A Touch of Feathers

Michael stared slack jawed at the other. Was he for real? 

"It just happens that your sweet scent is what led me here. I didn't expect that you'd be just as sweet looking as the scent you give off." Unlike last time, Michael was prepared as Isamu leaned down. 

The sound of the slap echoed off the walls. 

"Wow. For such a small thing, you certainly can hit hard." Isamu voice hummed with amusement as he brought his hand up to rub at the red, hand-shaped mark on his cheek. 

"I didn't think you'd go so far as hitting me. It seems my knowledge of humans having respect for celestial creatures was wrong." Despite the light nature surrounding Isamu's reaction to Michael striking him, the way his violet orbs darkened a shade indicated that perhaps his patience was running thin. 

"Don't try to kiss me then!" Michael snapped back, priming his hand to deliver another harsh slap should the other's face advance upon him again. 

"Would you give it up on the fucking angel thing already? You're obviously just some junky who took one hit too many. Why don't you just let me call the police already and they will get you the help you need." Then he could finally get back to his much needed rest before his shift started the next day. 

"Didn't you listen to me the first time I explained it, even if you call someone or scream for help no one will hear you. Not so long as the forcefield around this place remains up. As for your accusations, perhaps it would be good for me to show you once more how wrong you are about that." Letting Michael's other hand go, the angel took a step back. 

It would have cost Isamu so much less energy to cast a spell on the other and make him comply, yet something held the angel back. 

He'd seen a lot of humans over the years and heard tales about how mundane and predictable they could be. The one standing before him, however, was anything but mundane and predictable. 

Not only was he quite adorable with his big green eyes and baby face framed by his thick, mousy brown hair, but he was also sharp, feisty, and amusing. Not to mention he smelled absolutely amazing. The angel knew nothing about the different types of smells in the human world or where they came from, but he'd be certain to find out about the scent that surrounded Michael if only to be able to be able to surround himself with it permanently. Forcing the human to comply with a simple spell would take away those pieces the angel enjoyed so much. 

So, instead, Isamu opted to bring out his wings once more. Surely seeing them for a second time would make this human realize he was wrong about his accusations. 

While it was true that Isamu enjoyed a great deal of mischief and dabbled in a lot of questionable thing. Drugs and alcohol were one of the few things not on the list. After all, Angels had their own set of laws they were required to follow. Alcohol and drugs fell into the dark area that would fall unquestionably into the black zone of strictly forbidden. Even accidentally consuming them could lead to an angel being cast out without a trial. 

Isamu was never one to touch the dark side. Instead, he preferred to play and make trouble in the little gray area that existed between acceptable and forbidden. Pity his fellow celestials didn't see actions as harmless. 

But… back to the matter at hand.

Isamu summoned his wings into view with a fluid, almost teasing motion. They materialized with a flourish, each feather catching the moonlight and casting ethereal patterns across the room. The rings on his wings chimed a melody of subtle defiance, a sound that mirrored Isamu's rebellious spirit

The human, who had previously stood firm in his skepticism, was now visibly taken aback. His eyes, wide and unblinking, were fixed on the spectacle before him, his earlier bravado melting away into silent shock and wonder.

"Quite the sight, aren't they?" Isamu teased, enjoying the effect his wings had on the human. "Not every day you get up close and personal with an angel, especially one as charming as myself." Satisfied that the human would believe him, the angel decided it was time to send the feathers away once more as he waited to see what the human would have to say. 

But as the wings disappeared, erasing the celestial splendor from the room, it seemed the sudden return to normalcy was too much for the human. His expression, previously a canvas of bewilderment and weariness, paled noticeably as if the gravity of what he had witnessed was dawning on him. His eyelids fluttered closed, a sign that perhaps the shock and exhaustion of the encounter were taking their toll.

With a muted thud, the human's body gave in, collapsing to the floor in an unceremonious heap. He lay there, a picture of vulnerability sharply contrasting with the spirited resistance he had shown just moments before. To Isamu, it appeared as though the human's mind, overwhelmed by the collision of his mundane reality with the celestial realm, had chosen to escape into unconsciousness.

Isamu looked down at the crumpled figure with a blend of intrigue and nonchalance. A flicker of concern passed through him, swiftly replaced by his characteristic smirk. "Well, that's one way to react," he commented lightly, his tone tinged with amusement. This unpredictable response from the human was a new twist.