Welcome to Gaia! ::

The wind howled sharply in response to Lillian's question, as if some bodiless force laughed at her. The rain pattering against the window now came in sheets, which draped over the pane of glass and hid the view of the world outside until it was nothing more than a blurred, shaky mess of dark colors, broken by a jagged rip of white every so often, or, in one particular case, a bobbing mess of watercolors.

The lightning had just flashed, and the air was thick with anticipation of the coming roll of thunder. He, however, was not.

A sudden loud and urgent knocking on the door signalled a late night visitor, one that sounded desperate to be allowed in. In fact, after the thunder rolled past the Benedict Center, the knocks upon the door turned to nothing but scratching of nails against the wood.

It was cold. It was wet. It was thundering. But he couldn't help it. He had slipped out of his house late in the evening, and flew to where he knew he had to be. His insides churned with an unplaceable anxiety, and it felt as though the only solace and comfort lay just within these closed doors.

He just regretted that he had forgotten to bring the key.

What was she doing, just standing there? "Lillian, can you not see it's raining~?" He asked her incredulously, shuffling his way to try and get inside despite the fact that she was standing there dumbfounded blocking the doorway. He slid inside and dropped to his feet behind her, turning and standing in stride. He picked out the ribbons around his arms and started to twist the water out of them, before shaking his hair like a wet dog, sending flying sparkles of water everywhere. He released the ribbons and they floated effortlessly back into place, and one hand lifted to brush through the muss of hair, before he finally lifted those lapis lazul eyes to her, one careful brow raised slightly in time with a careless smile.

"Hah.. I got you all wet!"

His nose crinkled as he looked down at the droplets of water that splattered over her body, before he suddenly realized she wasn't wearing a shirt, and that was slightly unusual. It wasn't a sight he hadn't seen before, but still.. it was a nice one.

He shook that thought off as quickly as the water in his hair, and stood up straight, puffing out his chest just slightly in a pompous kind of way.

"Gee, you seemed a heck of a lot taller the last time I saw you!"

Her reaction couldn't have pleased him more. He deflated somewhat, but his bright grin remained. "Aw, silly Lilly. I knew you'd miss me!" He flung his arms around her neck and hugged her, snugging his head comfortably on her shoulder. It was so much fun to be able to hug her like this with his feet firmly on the ground, instead of needing to hover in the air like he had in the past. This way, she couldn't grab him and fling him away so easily!

He pulled away and stopped when his nose was a hairsbreadth from hers, giving her that half-crazed grin. For some reason, his newly defined features gave the expression an entirely different feel. One might almost say it was attractive.

Then the thunder rolled by, and his expression melted into a more familiar one; fear. His eyes snapped upward, as if he could see through the roof to the heavens above, and he'd cringed enough that his head leveled an inch or two lower than eye level with her.

"Wah.. I am not going home in that."

Well, at least he looked more grown up..

Asrafel shuddered slightly before finally letting Lillian go, and slipped his hand within hers to let her lead him off. "Yay, towel~! Is my Finding Nemo towel still here?" Somehow, his mind connected growing up with certain things disappearing; things like his Finding Nemo towel, or the little submarine he played with in the tub while taking a shower.

Shut up, it's fun. ):

He took the moment to look around, finding everything exactly as it had been. He pouted softly, coming to a sudden realization.

"Lillian.. how long's it been?" He asked, his deep tenor murmuring thoughtfully under his breath. He stepped softly and was all at once beside her, in front of the towel closet, giving her a troubled look.

"Since I've been gone, I mean."

Her answer didn't comfort him. His eyes fell as he took in her response, and his troubled expression remained even as she covered his head in his old towel and dried his hair. If he'd been younger he would have expected her to do something so motherly, followed by some kind of sharp and painful smack with the very same towel. At the moment, however, he was too lost in his own thoughts to think anything of it, and only her whispered words pulled him out.

"You of all know exactly where I was, Lillian. And what company I was keeping." He pursed his lips, settling his gaze on her once more. "But it felt like so much longer for me. I feel like I've been away from everyone for.. months. Maybe as long as a year."

He could still feel the strain on his body, the fading memories of what he'd had to endure. They briefly distracted him, but his eyes had already focused on her, and suddenly dawned with an almost mischievous realization. He reached his hand out, captured her chin in his palm, and tilted it up to look straight at him. One side of his lips turned up in a ghost of a smirk, and his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"You were worried about me."

Her denial only sealed his suspicions. Children never realize when someone is worried about them, but one thing was certain; Asrafel was no longer a child. He could see it, deep down in her narrowed eyes, and it made him happy. The reasons for her worry, however, didn't.

He stayed where he was even as she moved away and sat on the windowsill. The towel hung crookedly from his broad shoulders, as still and unmoving as he was as he listened to her reasoning. His careless smile dropped from his face, and a soft frown kissed his features.

Still, he wasn't as surprised as he would have thought he'd be.

He stood in the hallway, watching her with a disturbing calm. The pelting of rain filled the silence between them, as he wrestled with his thoughts.

"Give me a second." He called out quietly, breaking the silence and stillness as his entire body slid into motion. He swerved and took a sharp right, standing now in the pitch black bathroom beside the towel closet. He closed the door, and locked it behind him.

It would probably be better off if he left the light off.. he didn't want to see this.

He lifted one of his ribbons, and brushed it against his skin. It caressed him of it's own accord, innocent and unknowing. He felt a little like he was tricking it into submission, but it was a part of him. He was only fooling himself.

His fingers slid between the soft, velvet strip of cloth, and his other hand rose up to meet it. He held a corner between the index finger and thumb of each hand, and in response the ribbon first went limp, then turned rigid and hard.

He sucked a breath in, and held it. Several minutes passed before he finally built up enough courage to do it.

Riippp.

Asrafel rammed the side of his head against the bathroom wall a few times to stop himself from screaming. The pain was unbearable, but it was quick - like a bandaid that had just ripped off the skin underneath. Completely.

In his hand now rested a limp and lifeless length of ribbon, ripped from the side of his own. The ribbon he'd just ripped was fluttering haplessly in the air, shuddering in shock.

He let a few more minutes pass before the pain subsided completely, and he opened the door to the bathroom. He checked to see if he was crying, and was surprised to find he had not. He took in a deep breath, and in moments he was standing in front of Lillian, holding out the thin length of indigo ribbon in one hand.

"There, now. No matter what happens, no matter where I am, you'll know I'm coming back. As long as that ribbon still exists, I'll always come back home."

Asrafel crumbled into Lillian's arms when they wrapped around her. He had fought to remain strong as he stood there holding the ribbon, an extension of himself. He had fought with ever fiber in him to look as though he wasn't still in pain, but the throbbing still persisted. When she hugged him, his facade fell like a wall made of straw. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes and trying to find comfort to soothe the pain.

As always, he found it in her voice.

He refused to let her go that night, and eventually he had curled up on the bed, with his head resting on a pillow upon her lap, just as he had every night it thundered. He could still hear her voice permeating his dreams, and her hand brushing his hair to soothe him. Finally, despite all of the voices in his head and all that he held inside, he found the solace he had sought, and he slept under her guiding wing.