"He hates me," I choked out.
"Gabriel hates me now."
"Why do you say that?"
"After everything I just told him…"
"I suspect he is disturbed and confused, yes, but I don't feel he hates you. Love like that doesn't veer to hate quite so easily, though I'll admit the two interchange attimes."
I sniffled. "Did you feel it? His love?"
"Not like you did. I sensed it, though."
"I've never felt anything like it. I can't equal to that. I like him…like him so much. Maybe I even love him too, but not in the same way he loves me. I'm not qualified of that love."
Scholes made a soft, chastising click.
"No one is beyond being loved."
"Not even someone who just consented to spend the next century hurting humans, corrupting souls, and leading them to temptation and despair? You must hate me for that. Even I hate myself for that."
The angel watched me, with an expression calm and steady.
"Why did you agree then?"
