Michael did everything mentally possible to keep hold of the dream world as he could feel his consciousness coming back to him. He wasn't ready to face reality again despite reality being ready to take him back.
The cool, hard floor underneath him indicated that despite his fervent wishes for the night's events to be nothing but a bad dream, they were real. Or at least real enough to have caused him to pass out on the floor. What now?
Feeling the urge to panic creep up on him again, Micheal squeezed his eyes tightly shut until he saw spots before starting to count. Even if reaching a hundred didn't make things better, it would at least give him time to process.
If he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, that meant an angel really was in his apartment, right? How, though, and why?
Did Angels have names? Well, aside from the archangels, that was. Everyone knew the most prominent ones. Isamu. That didn't exactly sound like an Angel's name. It sounded more like a human name than one befitting of a celestial being.
"Michael, haven't you been sleeping for long enough? Isn't it about time for you to return to the land of the living?" Michael's eyes flew open at the sound of the deep celestial voice. How did the angel know his name?
"Twenty-five. Hmm. I wonder if that happens to be young for a human." As the angel carried on speaking, Micheal became aware of a muted rustling sound.
"I never knew humans could look so charming in their pictures. Although I think I prefer the real face compared to a photo." Photo? His wallet! Micheal bolted upright into a sitting position as this realization dawned him.
No sooner had he sat up when an intense wave of vertigo overtook him making him instantly regret his action.
"Don't touch my stuff." The words came out more as plea than the demand Michael meant them as. Focusing on trying to not pass out once more overtook the need to sound authoritative.
"Ah. So you are awake. I thought that I felt a shift in energy indicating as much. Quite a tumble you took there." Two Amused purple orbs came into view. Michaeal couldn't get over how deep the purple of Isamu's eyes were. He'd seen people wear fake purple contacts before but they were nothing compared to the deep violet pools staring back at him.
Michael's vision finally stabilized, revealing Isamu's face hanging upside down, his purple eyes alight with mischief. "Stay out of my things," Michael grumbled, the annoyance clear in his voice despite the lingering dizziness.
Isamu righted himself, a playful grin still etched on his face. "No need to be grumpy. I was merely getting to know my host better," he retorted, unapologetic. "Besides, your wallet was quite informative, Michael Preston." Michael's last name came out almost as a purr on the Angel's lips. The sound caused a shudder to ripple down his spine.
"You're supposedly an angel. Shouldn't you be... I don't know, more respectful of privacy?" He struggled to find his footing in this bizarre new reality. Surely though Angels were supposed to follow the rules even more than humans. After all, wasn't that the whole reason they were considered 'celestial beings'? This thought caused a twinge of pain to shoot through his head. Ugh and there was his migraine popping up on top of everything else.
Isamu laughed, a sound that seemed to fill the room with an otherworldly timbre. "Respectful? Perhaps. But where's the fun in that? I'm not your average angel, remember?"
Trying to regain some semblance of control, Michael steadied himself against the wall. "So, you're just going to stick around here, then?" he asked, a mixture of incredulity and resignation in his voice
Isamu's laughter resonated through the room, rich and charming, with a depth that seemed to vibrate in the very air. "Respectful? Maybe for some, but I prefer a bit of mischief. I did say I'm not your average angel," he said with a wink.
Michael, leaning against the wall for support, wasn't ready to back down just yet. "And you think you can just stay here, uninvited?" he challenged, frustration lacing his words.
Isamu crossed the room in a few graceful strides, his presence commanding yet not threatening. "And what exactly will you do to make me leave, Michael?" he asked, his deep voice smooth and slightly teasing. "Call the police? Tell them an angel has invaded your apartment? Even if you did manage to get someone to come on a report of an intruder, I could easily hide myself so they'd find nothing out of the ordinary."
Michael opened his mouth to retort but found no immediate comeback. Despite his overly egoistical confidence, the waiter didn't quite believe Isamu's words. Was it worth the trouble of calling the police to find out if he was and risking getting a slap on the wrist for a 'fake report' if Isamu could actually hide himself? Suddenly, Michael's head felt like a ten pound rock had landed atop it, and attempted to split it open as he tried to wrap his brain around what to do.
Isamu took Michael's hesitation as a sign he'd won the argument. A playful glint shimmered in his eyes "See, we might as well make the best of our time together. Who knows? You might even enjoy having a celestial roommate."
As. Fucking. If