Devilish New Year

𓆩♡𓆪

“I can’t believe it’s canceled,” Angel sniffed. Tears of sadness rolled down her cheeks and soaked into her golden blonde hair. As was natural for bio-organisms that had been touched by cherub tears, her locs started to shrink. At least four inches had gone before she noticed and quickly pushed her tresses behind her shoulders, shielding it from any future effect of her magic. “Oh, you really would’ve liked it…”

Devil looked around awkwardly. To be honest, she was kind of relieved. She didn’t want to go to a lame ass angel party in the first place. What did they even do at those? Hold hands and sing “Kumbaya”?

Devil couldn’t say what she was thinking out loud. She knew that much, at least. Angel would give her demerits, and she would have to stay in this Heavenhole for even longer than her 2,000-year sentence stipulated.

In an attempt to feign sympathy, Devil put a hand on her guardian’s back. Usually Angel shriveled a bit at the red-hot heat of demon skin, but this time, she thought the warmth felt good on her rapidly-cooling body. Devil dragged her hand up and down the girl with a maladroit energy as she spoke,

“I mean, who could’ve known that an inferno bus would crash into White Plaza and destroy the entire courtyard?”

A pause.

“Actually…” Angel swiveled her head and looked up into Devil’s eyes. “You could have known. Don’t hellions have thought transference?”

Despite being a literal demon, Devil couldn’t bring herself to say that the tragic event had been all her doing. It was just wrong… Not out of any sort of moral code she held herself to or anything, but because she thought lying about your mischievousness was just embarrassing. It didn’t mean anything if you didn’t really do it.

Not that it mattered what she thought—she couldn’t lie, anyway. It was literally impossible. Angel had The Eyes.

Decidedly, Devil opted to avoid answering the question in any way that would suggest clarity. She had to keep Angel on her toes. It was the only enjoyment she got around here.

Devil pouted, manipulating her face into something malevolent. “Aww. You don’t trust me?”

Angel studied her ward’s face for a few moments. She thought Devil’s glossy rogue lips looked like ripe cherries—a food Angels were strictly forbidden to eat. She thought her broad nose looked like a doric Roman column, strong and supportive and harmonious with the all the rest of the girl’s distinct features.

She tried not to think about these things, of course, but it was just too inherently of her nature to get distracted appreciating the things around her. If Angel was ever clear-brained long enough to have time for reflection, she might have even started to get annoyed by it.

“W-what were we speaking about?” Angel stuttered, jittering back into the here and now. Her voice sounded like it came from a place far off.

“You were accusing me of ruining your party by not warning you of the telepathic intentions of my brethren.”

“Well, did you?”

“No!” Devil threw her hands up and sighed exasperatedly. “I can barely summon a pizza up here! This place is wack.”

Angel didn’t respond. Instead, she wafted across the room, interacting with the beings in her dormature to try and cheer herself up. She hummed for the sunbright. Pawed at Semya and Razael. Danced with the potted vera.

Devil rolled her eyes. It was miffing her to have to deal with this seraphim. She was too bright, too cheery, and her brain was too airfull. She could never hold a conversation with the chick… for deviltry or for pleasure and this greatly bothered Devil. Demons naturally thrived on attention; and, respectfully, power in dialogue.

And more… the house was far too white, and was definitely too gold. It was undisputedly too clean and minimalistic and serene. Kitschy rococo paintings lined the wainscoting instead of Dada; and the waterfall that rushed outside the sunroom did not rush at all; and instead, inaudibly flowed in a straight stream from hard rock to plunge pool with no absolutely intention of spritzing or spraying anyone within a soakable radius.

Worst of all, it annoyed her to no end to see Angel thriving with full access to her powers.

Devil couldn’t take it one more night.

Before she could even fully devise a scheme, Devil floated over to and shadowed behind Angel. She still hadn’t decided on anything before she started to speak,

“So…” she stalled, “are we really just going to… stay here all night? For Gen’s sake, it’s New Year’s Eve! We have to celebrate… somehow.” She meant for there to be a period at the end of her bumbling, but it came out sounding more like a question mark.

“Mmmh,” Angel hummed. She wasn’t really paying attention. She was too busy watering the lilies in her mayfly nook.

“Oh! I have an idea!” Devil tried not to sound overexcited but even she was a little impressed by what she had come up with in the last ten seconds. “Let’s do a devil party!”

Angel paused. Then she turned around. Her eyes were puppyish—curious, but skeptical. “A what?” she giggled, seemingly entertained by the idea of this.

“Yeah,” Devil said, nodding her head with increasing confidence, “Let’s get out of here. Do a traditional devil’s New Year celebration. C’mon, it’ll be fun.”

The seraph thought about it for a second.

“It’s against the rules for me to go to Gloomacre, Devil,” she decided. “And besides it’s probably best that you don’t surround yourself by tempestuous archfiends. Remember what landed you in Heaven to begin with, sweet.”

Devil didn’t think about it at all. All she could think about was Dave, Decotal, Darrius, and Deandra blipping in and out existence in front of her as her attempt at compelling Angel wavered in and out of the ocular.

Devil lowered her pitch to invoke persuasion. “It’s not in Hell,” she corrected. Devil floo to the other side of Angel so that she could look her right in her clairvoyant eyes. While it was possible for a demon to avoid answering a question under the gaze of an angel, it still wasn’t possible for her to outright lie to it; a fact Devil thought she might as well use to her advantage.

“If we’re lucky, there won’t be any demons there at all.”

Angel blinked. “Well, where is it then, if not in Hell?”

“Can’t say. It’s tradition.”

“I don’t know…” she trailed.

Devil rolled her eyes again. “Aren’t you supposed to be rehabilitating me? Come on Angel, show some support,” she begged, “I’m trying to connect with you. If we’re going to spend the next 2,000 years together, shouldn’t we at least enjoy it?”

“I don’t know…” Angel muttered again. Her eyes started drifting to the side, and Devil knew she had to recapture the nymph’s attention again before it was too late.

All at once, the most important decade of Devil’s countenant muscles forcibly labored together to bring an uncomfortable Pan Am to her face. When Angel saw this new and sudden brightness light across Devil’s face, she couldn’t help but to homecome it.

The two stared at each other with their fake and real smiles, studying the other with varying degrees of sanctity.

Devil was weary of Angel’s smile; and Angel was wary of hers.

To her surprise, a soft, yet faintly convinced

“Okay…” left Angel’s princess pink lips.

A little in shock, Devil couldn’t think of a comeback. So, instead, she just replied,

“Ok.”

𓆩♱𓆪

To Angel, when the duo landed on a dimly lit street in the middle of nowhere, she thought that it might have been possible that Devil had somehow managed to fib to her, and she really had been dragged to Hell.

“Where are we?” Angel marveled, looking up and down the row.

“Ohio.”

“Oh-hi-oh,” Angel repeated, furrowing her eyebrows, then seeming to relax. Angel didn’t know what or where Ohio was, but she was relieved that she wasn’t in the forbidden place. Whatever place they were, though, it was obvious that the magic rules were more strict in it. Angel could physically feel her power start to dwindle whenever they had flown into the atmosphere; and this loss was confirmed for her when she tried to use her magic to pull a compass from the sky and the only thing that came was puffs of smoke.

Even though it wasn’t much to see, it delighted Devil to watch her guardian struggle a little like she had been doing herself for the past year. Now Angel might finally understand where she was coming from when she complained all the time. Maybe now she would be sympathetic and charge forth some Dr. Phil boxsets and whoopie cushions for her every once in a while.

Angel followed Devil for about sixty footsteps before they arrived at their probable destination—a large, multi-multi-storied apartment building right at the edge of the neighborhood that overlooked a field of snowed-on carnations.

They entered the complex and navigated to the 38th floor using the next thing closest to flight—the elevator. As soon as the electronic box dinged! and slid open its heavy metal doors, the lively sound of humans intermixing swelled within the ill-matched pair’s ears.

Devil found the boisterous chattering of the tiddly humans comforting.

Angel found Mike Posner’s blaring “Cooler Than Me” track overwhelming. Still, as was her nature, she kept her spirit high. Though this setting was almost unbearably loud for her, seeing the smiling, happy faces of the humans in the walkway enjoying the festivities made the discomfort she was experiencing extremely bearable.

Angel thought they had reached their destination, but Devil kept pushing past the sardine-packed crowd. Angel shyly trailed behind her, stepping into Devil’s phantom footsteps in order to not make a mistake. She didn’t have much experience with humans. She didn’t know how they were going to interact with her.

She was a little scared.

Right before they both passed through the threshold of the open penthouse door, a tall, dark figure cut off Angel’s sight.

Someone was blocking her.

It was a human, dressed in a shiny gold suit. Angel liked that. She liked it less when the human glared at her and asked, “Who are you?” in a tone she had never heard directed at her before.

Devil doubled back.

“Oh, she’s with me, Dave,” she told the human.

The human slid his glasses down his thin nose and studied Devil with his honey brown eyes.

“Oh. My. God—Ada, is that you‽” he squealed, suddenly excited. He rushed toward her; and when he confirmed that she was who he thought she was, embraced Devil with a hug that smelled like Black Opium. Devil took in the scent deeply. She missed this. “I haven’t seen you in forever, girlie. Where’ve you been?”

“Oh,” she smiled up at him, “here and there.” Angel was mystified. Devil leaned in closer to the human and whispered, “You wouldn’t believe it, man… I’m on parole,” while maintaining eye contact with Angel.

“Oh,” he repeated. He looked down over Devil’s outfit. “Where’s the ankle candy?”

“Actually… Eve here got it off of me,” she pointed at Angel, “so I’m treating her.”

Angel was taken aback. Until now, she’d never had a reason to have a moniker. All seraphims and demons were called either ‘Angel’ or ‘Devil,’ and they always knew whom was talking to whomst. The experience of having a name that belonged specifically to her was a strange feeling.

Strange…

but she liked it.

Eve was a good name for the humans to call her. Eve was a nice, decent name.

The human took out a small black square from the inside of his coat and starting pushing his fingers around on it. “The squad is not going to freakin’ believe this,” he said, chuckling. He held the box at arms length in front of him and smiled into it. The thick brown horns sitting atop Devil’s head brushed through his sandy hair as the two put their heads together lovingly; but, of course, the human did not feel anything.

“Guys, look who I found!” he joyed.

Devil waved at nothing.

Angel watched. She didn’t really get it. Devil looked happy though, so she was ok, too.

After the two old friends finished canoodling and catching up, Angel was formally accepted into the party, and Devil abruptly left her alone to enjoy the festivities in her own way.

She danced. Talked. Moaned “pizza-ahhhh…” when she found the buffet table.

And when she picked up the first pepperoni slice she would eat that night, she almost cried. She did cry when she tasted it. It was so warm. So familiar. Nothing like the tiring and never-ending array of angel cakes and apricot brownies and Christmas Angel cookies they forced her to eat in Heaven.

No, this was real food. Real, nutritious shit.

Devil was in ecstasy.

As the water in her eyes continued to bubble past her waterline, Devil came up with a New Year’s resolution.

She was going to get out of Heaven.

And not escape from it like she had thought to do so many times before, but really get out. She was going to serve her sentence and get out and never come back. It had only been a year, but now she was sure she’d learned her lesson.

Heaven was terrible. Ruthless, even.

Just 1,999 more years at the hair shop.

She could do it.

She was positive.

𓌹ᄋ𓌺

In the time Devil had decided that the party would be her one cheat day before really committing to her new, turned around life, Angel had discovered that she too had some things she wanted to do.

Because when Devil was dancing, Angel had been dancing too.

When Devil had been talking, Angel had doing so as well.

But, when Devil was eating pizza, Angel had been trying out a new thing the humans called “alcohol.”

Unlike most of the humans, Angel was past tipsy now. Angel was so drunk off of non-mana infused drink that she was stumbling. It was a terrible sight for Devil to witness. And more than anything, when she saw Angel’s ass being groped by some rando in her spot on other side of the apartment, she wanted to run up and stop it.

Angel was past ecstasy. She was in eureka.

Maybe it was because of all the forbidden food she had eaten. Maybe it was because being stuck in the human world without her powers shocked her into adaption. Maybe it was because her angel DNA was over-stimulated and forcing her to appreciate all the things around her, good or bad. Whichever it was… its effects were instant.

Angel was in love with it.

Devil rushed to Angel promptly, both concerned with the consequences of Angel’s current behavior, and of Angel in general. How much more time would she get put on her sentence if she got an angel fucked up? What if they considered this a violation of her probation and sent her to rot in Angel Prison?

Devil couldn’t take the thought.

When she reached her incapacitated conservator, Devil immediately broke the skinship between her and the mystery human. The man threw his arms up. Devil growled at him in response.

Angel giggled. Then she looked down at she and Devil’s now awkwardly interconnected hands.

Angel couldn’t help but to marvel at how beautifully Devil’s bronze skin contrasted against hers. The two of them were just cohesive, she thought. They were complimentary, like satyr butterflies and gaura lindheimeri.

That is why Angel didn’t bother to move when Devil’s fingers unwrapped themselves from around hers and started slowly trailing up her pastel arm. Angel couldn’t stop the transfixation when a flurry of fireworks chased each other into the sky, and a clocktower chimed, and when every single human on the 38th floor screamed cries of felicitations all at the same time, either.

She had even less control of herself when Devil’s horns crumbled and fell off of her crown (as all demon horns did on New Year’s day), and Devil joked, “It’s like mistletoe, you know. You’re supposed to kiss—”

and she kissed her on her red hot lips.

~

Time froze.

𓆰𓆪

Literally. Time froze.

When Devil suggested that Angel should kiss her, she hadn’t really meant it. It had been said as nervous bumbling, not as an instruction she wanted the chick to follow or anything. She was hoping it would sober Angel up a little if she was being honest.

It didn’t sober her up at all.

Devil would have brought up the mixed signals if time hadn’t literally been frozen.

All around her, for as far as she could see, Earth was still. Even the confetti from the poppers the humans had used was stuck hanging in the air defying gravity and physics.

Angel noticed this too. She was less stressed about it than Devil, though. At least that was the case until she saw pink and red Angel Cop lights rushing towards them from beyond the carnations.

See, Devil had sworn to be good.

But Devil had also seen those lights before.

They weren’t going to go easy on her this time. She just knew it.

Maybe Devil could be good next year.

Without another thought, Devil clasped Angel’s hand in hers and dragged her out of the penthouse and into the night. It was a Devilish New Year, and Devil and Angel were going to spend it being fugitives.