1| 🌗 The Argument for Mankind
An angel and a demon walk into a bar...
“Not a bar.”
Gabe slowly exhaled. Feeling the rush of oxygen sift through his lungs. The strange sensation of pressure against his rib cage. He rotated his broad shoulders, flexing his massive wings.
“Bars are for uncultured heathens.”
An angel and a demon meet at a cafe.
Gabe leaned back against the wooden bench he sat on. His finely trimmed fingernails circled the rim of his half-empty coffee mug.
“More coffee, sir?”
He raised his marble blue eyes to the waitress standing before him.
She visibly shook from the sharpness in his piercing gaze.
With a chiseled jaw line and shapely pink lips that sensually contrasted with his lightly tanned skin. His face looked as if it had been crafted by God himself.
The waitress snapped out of her trance as she looked at the perfect male specimen in embarrassment.
“I will take more of your bitter liquid,” Gabe said tilting his mug.
“Oh... right...” she said nervously. The kettle trembled uncontrollably in her grasp as she tried to refill his mug, spilling a little onto his hand.
“I-I’m so sorry!” she blurted.
“It’s fine,” Gabe said nonchalantly as he watched his fingers turn red from the boiling coffee. “I don’t suppose you have a cleaning fabric.”
“A... napkin?” she asked confused.
She quickly handed him a few napkins and watched him wipe his hand. Even such a simple movement managed to stoke a heated fire in her belly that streamed into her panties.
Gabe could hear the rapid beating of the woman’s heart and looked up at her intrigued.
“You may go now...”
“R-right,” she said shyly before she quickly walked away.
Gabe lifted the mug to his nose and slowly inhaled its smoky aroma.
“Late... he’s always late... typical.”
An angel and a demon make a deal.
Gabe’s finely polished fingernails lightly tapped to a slow rhythm on the mahogany wooden table. A low hum emanated from his chest that slipped between his lips in a whistle.
The sound of bells clanging against each other disturbed his silence and his crystal clear blue eyes slowly opened.
Black boots, caked with an unknown thick gray substance stepped into the small cafe.
Dark-colored pants, wide at the thighs but tapered around the ankles. A black leather jacket curtaining a muscular chest painted with so much ink, not a speck of peach-colored flesh could be identified. Dark shades that hid the secrets lurking behind it.
Luc scanned the tiny cafe, immediately locking onto the purpose of his visit.
“C-can I help you... s-sir..?”
He looked down to see a small woman standing a few feet away from him. He assumed her to be a worker.
And yet... she trembled in his presence.
A highly amused grin painted his face.
“Help me... with what?”
The waitress’s jaw immediately shut as she felt her entire body grow still as if entirely on its own. To say the man before her intimidated her would be an understatement.
He terrified her.
Luc looked up at the sound of his name. Like an echo in his head. He again locked eyes with his target.
“My patience grows thin...”
Luc’s grin widened as he removed his shades and looked at the waitress.
Her lips parted in awe at the piercing blue irises so dark they nearly blended in completely with the blackness of his cornea.
“I’m good,” Luc said tucking his shades into the front pocket of his leather jacket and heading towards a table.
“Took you long enough.”
An amused chuckle escaped Luc’s lips as he sat at the small coffee table.
“I’m glad my irritation amuses you,” Gabe added frustratingly.
Luc shrugged as he leaned back against the bench and stretched his arms out over the seat.
“...I was busy.”
“Aren’t you always...” Gabe muttered.
The bell of the small cafe rang again and a light brown-skinned man with a turban on his head walked inside. He smiled warmly at the waitress before walking himself to a lone table. The waitress looked at the barista behind the counter as they both exchanged strange looks.
Gabe raised his mug to his lips. He sniffed the aroma again before setting it down.
Luc raised a curious dirty blonde brow. “Why do you do that?”
Gabe looked at the mug. “I’m learning...”
“You call that learning?” Luc snickered. “Watching you try to navigate a mortal’s body provides me more entertainment than any chaos I could conjure.”
Gabe scowled in irritation. “Mortals are simple.”
“And yet you’re learning,” Luc smiled mockingly.
Gabe looked from Luc to his hand. He flexed each finger and sighed.
“The mortal body requires far too much for basic survival. It’s tiresome.”
Luc shrugged nonchalantly. “You just need to get used to it.”
Gabe analyzed the lines on his hands again before he pulled it back and looked at Luc.
“That won’t be necessary...”
Luc raised an intrigued brow. “...you’re accepting my deal?”
Gabe’s blue eyes flickered with wonder. Glazing over with a million thoughts before he looked at Luc again. He went to speak when again the bell of the cafe rang out.
Skin so rich and dark it seemed to sparkle like the night sky. Dark mocha brown almond eyes magnified by large-framed glasses. A pair of thick plump lips that parted into a smile revealing sparkling white teeth. And large, kinky, curly brown hair fighting the bright yellow scarf struggling to keep the fro down.
The strapless yellow sundress fell just above the knees, teasing the smooth dark brown skin beneath it.
The strange woman shined so brightly, she put the sun to shame.
The two immortal beings eyed the peculiar woman for just a brief moment before they set their eyes on each other again to continue their conversation.
“Mortals are... simple,” Gabe surmised.
“You said that already,” Luc smirked. “Who are you trying to convince?”
A labored sigh left Gabe’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. He rested his chin on his fist as he pondered the thoughts busying his mind.
“He said they were complicated...special,” Gabe spat with a tinge of disgust.
“He’d say anything in defense of his creation.”
“So you agree with me?” Gabe inquired.
Luc shrugged. “Mortals are predictable. They kill. They hate. They destroy.”
“Much thanks to you...” Gabe said coldly.
Luc chuckled. “You give me far too much credit, Gabe. I cannot create what already exists in man.”
“I instigate,” Luc corrected. “And mortals are so weak-minded. So weak-willed. My job only becomes easier as time continues.”
Gabe sighed as he leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Never did I think I would disagree with the ideals of my master...”
Gabe looked up at Luc. “And side with my enemy.”
“Are we enemies, Gabe?”
“We have nothing in common, Luc.”
“Except for our disdain for mortals,” Luc smiled.
Gabe hated that smile. That perfect, charming smile that signified... Luc was right.
Luc looked down at the butter knife on the table and twirled it between his fingers. He spun it so fast, it nearly became invisible. His mischievous blue eyes glanced over at the dark-skinned creature in the tantalizing yellow dress sitting alone at a small table, reading a book and sipping from a mug.
“Unless...” Luc said watching her absentmindedly. “You still think they are worth...saving...”
Gabe scoffed. “I have studied mortals and I cannot see what he sees. For they have only proven themselves to be selfish. Arrogant. Weak. They destroy everything they touch. They manufacture prejudice as a reason to kill each other. Their innate nature seems to only be violence and hate. They are a disease unto this planet. They are certainly not worth saving.”
Luc looked at Gabe to see his nostrils were flared and his face tinted red.
“You know some mortals turn a different color when they’re angry,” Luc smirked.
Gabe furrowed his brows in confusion before he turned to the window and caught his reflection.
“Disgusting...” Gabe muttered. “They are disgusting.”
Luc leaned forward on the table and smiled warmly.
“Well then, my friend... shall we move forward with our deal?”
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Luc and Gabe glanced across the cafe to see the brown-skinned man with the turban looking rather confused at the suited man standing before him who he could only assume to be the owner.
“I’m sorry?” the man said. “Did I do something wrong?”
“You’re making a couple of our patrons uncomfortable,” the owner said.
The man looked around at the cafe to see several curious eyes on him. He flushed with embarrassment as he turned back to the owner.
“I don’t understand,” the man said. “I haven’t done anything but order a simple coffee.”
“Please don’t make me ask you again to leave or I’ll be forced to call the cops,” the owner said impatiently.
“See now...” Luc scoffed amused. “See how they are.”
“Simple,” Gabe said coldly. “They are simple.”
“Predictable,” Luc added.
“And unworthy of the planet they inhabit. The lives that they live,” Gabe said shaking his head. “Enough of these distractions. I cannot wait to be rid of this body.”
Luc and Gabe were once again interrupted and turned to see the dark-skinned woman in the bright yellow sundress stand in front of the owner.
“What right do you have to refuse this man service?!” she demanded. Her arms were folded defiantly across her plump chest. An infuriated look in her eye. Her mouth twisted in frustration.
“Ma’am, this doesn’t concern you,” the owner said putting his hand in her face.
“It does concern me,” she said pushing his hand away. “It should concern everyone that you seem to be discriminating against this man. Which is ILLEGAL by the way!”
“It is not discrimination-” the owner protested.
“Then why are you kicking him out?” she demanded.
“We have the right to refuse service-” he started again.
“BUT WHY?!” she snapped again.
“Miss... it’s alright,” the brown-skinned man with the turban said lightly touching her arm.
“No, it’s not alright,” she said glaring at the owner. “You have some nerve running a business in the most diverse city in the world yet refusing service to someone based off of some racist stereotype.”
“I assure you, that’s not what this is-” the owner counteracted. “Some of our patrons have complained-”
“Then you tell them to leave! They’re the ones with the problem, not him!” she snapped.
Luc raised an intrigued brow and couldn’t help the snicker that escaped his lips when several phones started recording the altercation.
“Another thing about mortals,” Luc said to Gabe. “They’d rather watch than intervene. It’s as I said... predictable.”
“Quite...” Gabe said with his eyes trained on the woman. “Yet... she intervened...”
Luc looked from Gabe to the woman wagging her finger in the embarrassed owner’s face.
“It’s okay, I’ll just leave,” the man with the turban said standing up. “I don’t want to be where I am not welcomed.”
“I’m leaving with you,” she said to him before turning to the owner. “And you know what, sir? I’m putting this allllll over social media. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook. Snap... what they call it? Snapchat? Tik Tokkers? Whatever. About your little racist coffee shop. We’ll see how long you stay in business when you’re branded as a xenophobic racist.”
“Ma’am, that’s not-” the owner said quickly.
“Nope! Too little too late,” she said side-stepping him.
Gabe watched the woman leave with the man before he turned around and met Luc’s similar intrigued gaze.
“...she’s... interesting...” Gabe said lowly.
Luc looked from the door to Gabe and caught the look of conflict causing him to scoff.
“There’s a million mortals like her, Gabe.”
“Yet she’s the only mortal who said anything, Luc,” Gabe pondered.
“For every one mortal who actually does something selfless, there’s at least a thousand more who would sacrifice his own family to save his pride,” Luc said snidely. “Mankind is not worth saving.”
Gabe leaned back and sighed. “No...mankind is not worth saving...”
“Hey, wait! Wait!”
The man with the turban stopped walking and turned around to see the woman with the bright yellow sundress running towards him.
“H-hi...” he said awkwardly.
“You left so quickly!” she said trying to catch her breath as she shifted her bag on her shoulder.
“Yes well... I wanted to leave as quickly as possible,” he said diverting his eyes.
She twisted her mouth in frustration. “I’m sorry about all that. That guy’s an asshole. Seriously.”
“It’s alright,” he said quickly. “Thank... thank you for saying something.”
“Of course,” she smiled. “This is New York. We stick up for our own.”
A warm smile etched on his face. He rarely received such kindness.
“My name’s Brianna,” she said holding her hand out. “But you can call me, Bria.”
“Bria,” he smiled back. “My name is Hyder.”
“Nice to meet you, Hyder,” she beamed as she adjusted her glasses. “Hey you know what? There’s this really cool Jamaican cafe in Harlem. Only a few train stops away. They also make some really good Caribbean food.”
“A cafe that makes... Caribbean food?” he asked confused.
“That’s Black Harlem for you,” she smirked. “What do you say?”
Hyder checked his phone before looking up at her and smiling.
“Sure why not.”