After consistent, and simulated, weather for one thousand four hundred and thirty two years, Adam has never felt more alive.
Seeing the trees dance with different strengths of wind, different directions and patterns, the swarms of leaves in an array of colors. Not green, not stagnant; but, yellow, and orange, and brown, all in different stages of their life cycle.
Different, freshness, change. It was almost overwhelming after being locked in a static mind-scape for so long.
The idea that nature has the capacity for difference, for change, without manipulation from Michael, without Adam requesting it. The real world just⌠Did what it wanted, when it wanted.
Now that Adam was awarded his freedom, he could finally, finally, reintegrate with what he had been lacking for centuries.
âMichael.â Adam spoke softly, hints of excitement very much present in his tone.
âYes, Adam?â His angel replied.
âMichael, take me somewhere. I want to be somewhere familiar, and Iâd really like to feel the rain on my skin. Itâs been so long.â
âShall I choose the location?â Michael inquired, head cocked slightly to the right.
âYeah, youâve got my memories, surprise me.â
âVery well.â Michael replied, sifting through mountains of areas Adam knew, as well as using his angelic eyes to scout current weather conditions in each.
Michaels grace reached out to Adam, cradling his soul to make flight more of a pleasant experience than a disorientating one. Within the couple days the pair had been back on earth Adam had been familiarizing himself with flight.
The two of them had been all over the map in quite a short amount of time.
The very first few times Michael had flown, all those many, many, years ago, it had been wildly unpleasant for him. This, as he now could see, was due to Michaelâs carelessness. Michael, back then, had no desire to comfort Adam or see to it that he would be stable during flight.
It felt like ages ago, it was ages ago, but it felt even longer. Adam canât remember the last time Michael had done anything that wasnât in his favor, or at least without him in mind.
His Michael would go to the ends of the earth for Adams comfort, for Adams happiness, for Adam.
That Michael, the Michael who didnât care, the Michael who shoved him down and suppressed him, was completely and utterly a stranger now.
The Michael heâs known for the past ten centuries was a compassionate (in his own way), careful, gentle, and calculated creature. Never would Michael make a move to harm Adam, and Adam knew that. He knew that well.
Michaelâs grip on Adam lessened as they landed- The feeling of grace on soul, being as close as sub-atomically possible to one another, it was⌠Blissful, it was warm, it was protective. It was something Adam rather die with out.
Before Adam even realized, they were back in Windom.
Michael placed them in a back lot, behind Adams old elementary. Adam frequented this parking lot as a teen due to its emptiness. There was a much bigger, and better-paved lot closer to the school. That left the back lot effectively abandoned. Which was perfect for Adam.
When he needed to get out of the house, he would come here. It was just over grown enough that certain parts were shielded from on-lookers by foliage growing on the chain link fence.
There was a large drain situated at the lowest point of the lot, down near the middle. Back in his adolescence, he wouldâve walked over to it to drop twigs and rocks down it, and listen as they splashed into the water below.
âWas this a good choice?â Michael said, almost self consciously but still too neutral for Adam to really tell.
âYeah.â Adam looked around. âYep, this is perfect.â
âItâs just missing some rain.â Adam said gesturing to Michael as if to say âMake it rain, please.â
Michael knew Adams gestures, and even if he hadnât understood, the two share a mind. There were already storm clouds present above the two, he swiftly obliged Adams silent request, conjuring up the perception.
The clouds darkened even further, wind picking up around them.
Adam only had to wait two minutes before the first droplets started to fall, and only one more until the rain was coming down the hardest heâd ever seen.
The sheer force of the water caused Adam to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, and when they were open he couldnât see anything.
âUh, Michael?â Adam said, hand over his eyes and forehead.
âItâs raining a little to hard, youâre going to cause a flash flood or something.â
âWould you like me to to make it stop?â
âNo, no, just make it a little lighter.â
The rains previous aggressive, pelting droplets finally gave way to softer, more pleasant droplets. A steady fall, but nothing crazy. The accompanying thunder and lighting lulled Adams mind. Pulling him back to a simpler time in his life.
A time that a one point, he wouldâve traded anything to get back, but now, now he would never leave Michaels side.
Heâs forgotten what itâs like to live in his body alone, and isnât in any hurry to find out again.
Adam silently sat on the black top, mind heavy with thoughts, his head angled up to the sky and his eyes closed. He let the rain drops roll off of his face, his hair and clothes becoming completely saturated while he did so.
Michaelâs projection sat alongside him, hand on top of his own. The consoling gesture was quite welcome.
The two of them stayed that way for what couldâve been hours, but was probably more like thirty five minutes.
Adam lays himself down, letting the streams of runoff water pass down his body and head for the drain. It was probably quite unsanitary, but that meant little to nothing to him anymore.
Adam smiles up into the sky before turning his head to face Michael, Michealâs eyes are fixated on Adam and Michaelâs features are soft and inviting. When his eyes meet Adamâs he offers a warm smile. Doubling down on the expression by lovingly encasing Adams soul with his grace. (Something the pair had dubbed, a grace hug.)
A breathy laugh escapes Adam upon seeing the smile splayed on Michaelâs face.
âYou know whatâs funny?â Adam says.
âNo, Adam. What is funny?â
âMy mom, she used to tell me that when it rained it was the angels in Heaven crying. The rain was their tears hitting the earth. But itâs raining here, now, and youâre smiling at me.â Adams slight laughter continued.
âThat is funny, Adam.â Michael assures, fighting the urge to say angels do not cry, and if they did the tears would certainly not reach to earth.
Even when Michael understands that Adam is using a figure of speech, he canât help but want to correct it. This was something he had gotten better at not doing as the years went by.
âDo you know what is funny to me, Adam?â Michael reciprocates the original question.
Adam sits back up, leaning in closer to Michealâs apparition. âWhat, Michael?â
Adam gives Michael a weird look. âOh yeah? Whatâs so funny about me?â He replies, playfully.
âPerhaps I chose my words poorly, less funny,more endearing I suppose.â Micheal explains.
âOkay, what is it?â Adam asks, arm now leaning against Michaels.
âYour human tendencies, even after all these years of separation from your kind, you still have the simple desire to lay in the rain. You still recall old memories to me, you still enjoy mundane things. The characteristics that make you human, I find them to be sweetly endearing.â
Micheal pauses, shyly, âYou are sweet, Adam.â
âI love you, Michael.â Adam breathes, leaning in closer.
âAnd I you.â Michael replies, closing the distance.