A snowy world that Azrael and Hogarth touch down in.
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Arriving at the office building, I see Azrael walk forward and out of the building with his own luggage drawn by his hand. He also has a large winter coat under one arm as he walks out which moves around as he walks. The morning light shines across his face and my breath catches in my throat as his grey eyes catch the light and glitter. If only I could hold that face to mine, and gaze deeply into those eyes.
"Good morning, Hogarth," he says, smiling at me as he approaches.
"Goo morning, Azrael," I reply.
Azrael called me yesterday for the first time when I was at home, and I almost had a happy fit when I heard his voice. He had called me to tell that indeed we would need to leave early ad head to Alaska via plane. I was just happy to hear his voice that I acted quite stupid while he was talking to me.
"Well, let's get going," says Azrael as Chad pulls up in front of us with the car.
After stowing the luggage we have we get in the car and start to head to the airport an tarmac where the jet plane is.
"Were you able to pack winter coats?" asks Azrael to me as we enter traffic and low a little.
"I think I was able to," I answer, "at least, I packed the best coat I had."
"If the coat in question is too cold," says Azrael, "I can buy you a new one in Alaska. It'd be terrible if you were cold."
"Or better yet," says Azrael as he thinks about something, "I could lend you one of the coats at home in Alaska. I'm pretty sure there are a few laying around at home."
"Thank you," I say, "if it comes to that, I'll gratefully accept."
Azrael nods and then we settle into a silence until we get to the airport. We stop at a gate where there's a guard standing, and after showing our passports, also talking a little, he lets us through and we arrive at the jet, waiting for us to go.
Azrael's jet is somewhat the generic expensive one, and there's nothing vain and unneeded about the details. Inside though there are comfortable seats and more than enough luxury that might be missing on the outside.
After handing our luggage to people on the tarmac who store it in the cargo, we get on the plane, waiting to fly off. The pilots are already preparing the plane and talk into headsets with the radio tower. When they see Azrael get on they smile and say hello.
Azrael and I sit across from one another with a window to the left of me and right of him. He has on a suit as usual but instead of a vest he has a sweater on. It's cold here in D.C., but I'm guessing that it's more of preparation for Alaskan weather. He looks good in it though.
Thinking now, it's a bit of a bummer that we didn't get to go to Texas as it's warmer. Which means Azrael who's not acclimated to warmer weather would probably perspire more and also wear less clothes. Less clothes? Well, maybe T-shirts and shorts instead of pants and dress shirts which he usually wears. Which, would somewhat nice to see.
Taking off, we fly through the air and soon we're heading to Alaska. It's about six hours according to Azrael, but if the air currents are alright it might be less.
Looking out the window, I see D.C. drop below us and disappear from view. Soon, clouds start to come into view and block some of what I can see below. Also, tiny little crystals of ice start to form on the window outside.
Azrael falls asleep actually after an hour in the air and I can't keep my eyes off him. Leaning back in his chair, his face is relaxed and some of his black hair falls over his brow. Maybe because his posture is leaning back and his shoulders pushed forward by the cushions of the chair he sits in, his shirt and sweater is crumpled a little as it rises and falls with his breathing.
The plane moves a little and some of his hair falls more over his brow.
There's nobody else in the cabin of the plane, and I'm half tempted to reach forward and push the hair out of his face as it seems to be irritating him. His eyebrows have knitted together and it's making me wanting to do something to ease him.
Reaching forward, I carefully push the lock of hair out of the way of his brow and his facial contour eases. He doesn't wake up though, and I sit back and continue watching him sleep in front of me. I never knew that his hair was more brown than black, as some light shines in through the window next to us and illuminates part of his face and hair. Warm tones in his hair are nice to look at, and also the part of his face hit by sunlight is soft and beautiful to observe.
Just the amazing spectacle in front of me eases me and soon I start to relax to the point where I'm dosing off. I sleep without dreaming anything, as sleep on a plane however soft the cushions on the chair are not enough for the mind to wander off.
When I do wake, the sun has moved more and Azrael is no longer sitting in front of me. Stretching my arms, I look around the cabin, and see that Azrael is near the cockpit talking with the pilots. I wait for him to come back, which he does with two bottles of water and snacks.
"Did you sleep well?" asks Azrael as he offers one of the waters and snack packs to me.
"I did," I answer as I take the offered things, "I saw you sleeping as well. How was your sleep?"
"I think I slept well. I had to work from home yesterday night so the little nap was much needed," says Azrael.
"You worked last night?" I ask, thinking how he might've hurt his health if he did stay up for a long time.
"Yes, and before you ask," says Azrael with a smile, "I only worked until 10:00. And the I went to bed right after."
"Hmm, well, I guess that's alright," I say.
"Speaking of alright," says Azrael as he gestures to the cockpit and the pilots, "I just had a talk about how we're doing, and it sees that we'll touch down in Anchorage near sundown and then we'll drive to my home before the blizzard hits."
"Is the blizzard bad?" I ask, thinking how we never had those in Texas.
"It shouldn't be too bad," says Azrael as he tilts his head, "maybe two inches? Two and a half maybe. But we'll be indoors so that it should be fine."
"What is your home like?" I ask.
"It's...big," says Azrael, and I wait while he collects his thoughts, "it's an old farm house. Very big, again. It also is a calming place to be, I suppose, if you like big spaces."
"You lived on a farm growing up?" I ask.
"Oh, well, yes. But we never kept any animals. It was nice running around the fields when I was younger," says Azrael.
"Did you spend a lot of time outside when you were younger?"
"I did," replies Azrael as he smiles, "I really liked the outdoor world. Especially the woods and fields, where there weren't that many people. It was an escape from...things."
Azrael's smile faltered and disappeared when he paused before saying the last word. I'm guessing that he's thinking about an aspect growing up that he didn't like at all. Which is probably his family, as that would be a presence that a person might want to escape but can't get far from, thus leading to him being outside.
So it's definitely good we're going to his house, as I can start to understand what the exact hidden secret of Azrael is, which I'm dead-set on finding.
We converse for the remainder of the hour and half that the flight takes until we start to descend. I try to figure out more about Azrael and his family, but he continues to not discuss his family. I guess he really doesn't like them, or there's a large issue. The sun has indeed started to set and I can see that there are mountains and the ocean below. Anchorage comes into view and I see that clouds are rolling in. Dark grey and cold, which in color is similar to Azrael's eyes. Though the blizzard clouds are more dangerous and want you to find shelter, whereas Azrael's eyes draw you in with curiosity.
Buckling up, we land and after taxi to where we are told through the radio tower to go, we halt. Outside, the late afternoon that is fast turning darker looks mighty cold. As I look outside, I see a car, not a black and sleek one, but a large one that's more civilian pull up. Inside, I see a man park the car near us and also steps out.
Azrael after the seatbelt sign turns off unbuckles and then pulls on his coat that he carried into the cabin. Following suit, I do as well. Before leaving, Azrael goes to the cockpit and says a thanks to the pilots, and then we go outside.
Azrael was not kidding about the cold. The chilly weather of D.C. might make you shiver, but this cold is on a whole other level. Before walking down the stairs, I actually stop and pull my coat more around me more as it's no joke.
Azrael slowly goes down the steps before carefully walking over to the man who drove up in the car. The man has hair that is similar to Azrael, but stands more to my height. And what's interesting is that he's maybe in his early forties. I'm guessing that's his father, so walk over trying to have a respectable appearance.
Azrael reaches the man and the man reaches out to hug him, smiling a little. His face is soft and not at all scary, so I don't know why Azrael seems to want to get out of his hold.
"Why so cold, Azrael?" asks the man, the smile turning into a puppy-frown.
"Luke, you squeeze harder than a python," says Azrael with his own smile.
"So," says Luke as he turns to me, I guess Azrael calls his father by his first name, "this is your assistant?"
"Hogarth Fallin, sir," I say, extending a hand to a smiling Luke.
"This is my brother, Luke," introduces Azrael, also smiling slightly, "there's no need to call him sir, Hogarth."
"I don't know," says Luke, "I kind of like it being respected. Makes me feel like a multi-millionaire CEO, like my little brother."
Azrael says something else to Luke, but the fact that the man in front of me is the brother of Azrael shocks me. The age difference easily expands a decade, and that aspect between the two immediately cements itself in my mind as an important piece of information.
"Anyways," says Azrael as he turns back to me before glancing at the sky, the bitter-cold wind catching his hair and blowing it around, "it's best we get going. The blizzard will be here soon and I'm not interested in spending a cold night."
"Right, well, Azzy, Hogarth, let's go," says Luke.
"Your brother calls you Azzy?" I ask Azrael jokingly.
"He does," says Azrael, "you're not allowed to."
"Bummer."
Azrael and I both laugh for a moment before getting into the silver car. Inside, the heater has been busy as it's warm, and I'm thankful stepping in and buckling up. Almost as if cued by the closer car door, the sunlight seems to disappear completely from the atmosphere and the clouds all push in and darken the day.
Pulling out, Luke drives us out of the airport and we drive on a dark world, only the headlights shining. We sit in the back as Luke has some things in the passenger seat, and he doesn't seem to mind. The luggage of ours already has been put into the car while we spoke, and I'm half tempted to grab another coat as even with the heater I am still slightly cold. I shiver a little.
"Hey," says Azrael as he reaches over and sets a hand on my shoulder, "are you cold?"
"A little," I admit.
Before my eyes, Azrael pulls off his coat and puts it on top of me, like a blanket. The size of it is small as Azrael is several sizes smaller than me. But the sentiment makes me warm to my toes.
I would think that Azrael would stop there but then he pulls off his sweater under the coat he put on me. Pulling the sweater off over his head, for a moment I see his stomach before his shirt falls over and he also puts the sweater on me, tucking it under my chin at the end.
"Better?" he asks, his eyes searching my face to make sure that I'm alright.
I smile.
"Much better."