It took two months for Pavel to turn up last time. It took five bodies for Azrael to see him back in his house. As soon as he had returned from the Lotus after Pavel had attempted to 'repay' him, Azrael had expected a much longer period between then and the next time they would talk. If they ever spoke again.
He was back in Azrael's house exactly a week later.
Azrael had heard the back door sliding open as he sat in front of his computer, working through his financial statements and checking the balances in each of the accounts. The dull monotony of it being disturbed was something Azrael was vaguely grateful for. He had perked up at the sound because he knew it couldn't be anyone else but Pavel. A wave of curiosity spread through him, considering it had been so little time since he had last been here.
This time, though, he wasn't beaten, bleeding or injured in any way at all. He wasn't starving or soaking wet from being caught in a sudden storm. Yet there he was, sitting at the breakfast bar, his turtleneck clean and his trousers unwrinkled as he looked at Azrael with a clear face when he emerged from the study. Only the final traces of the attack from the week gone painted his skin like delicate watercolours.
Fortunately, Azrael was fully clothed this time so, while he approached him as Pavel watched him with his amber eyes, he didn't feel exposed, as he had previously. Standing in front of Pavel, Azrael pushed his glasses back up his nose before tucking his hands into his pockets, unsure what to do with them. "Did something happen?"
Azrael thought it best to make sure Pavel was alright before any other questions. Enough time had not yet passed for Azrael to have really thought about what had happened that day so he still had an odd clenching feeling in his heart and a churning in his stomach as he trained his eyes on Pavel's face. It took all of Azrael's conscious thought to not stare at his lips. Azrael's skin prickled at the sight of the man's fingertips.
His feelings towards Pacel had become further complicated. Azrael still wanted to protect him and he was still the man that had kept him alive for all of these years, even if he didn't know it, but something deeper was swirling about in the back of his mind. A slow burn of emotions.
Something new, but also painfully familiar.
He couldn't deal with that again. It'll end the same, the same or worse. No, stop it. Just listen to what Pavel has to say. Subtly, Azrael shook his head and kept on looking at Pavel as he looked back, now smiling slightly. Curious, he tilted his head to the side as he waited for Pavel to finally speak.
"Nothing's happened. Don't worry." Pavel spoke like he had before and it didn't seem like he was lying but Azrael hadn't interacted with him enough to know his personal tells. Nonetheless, Azrael nodded to indicate he understood and accepted Pavel's statement, though he couldn't force himself not to be concerned. "I… I wanted to apologise for what I did last time we spoke. It was thoughtless and I still did it despite knowing what you've gone through. I'm so sorry, Azrael."
Azrael's concerned stare softened finally and he felt that heavy, confusing feeling in his heart grow much lighter and far more welcome. The stiff way Azrael's shoulders had been held relaxed and he let out a gentle exhale. "It's alright, Pavel. I don't hold it against you." I forgave you, not even an hour after what happened.
Arguably, Azrael had no right to hold it against him – Pavel wanted to use all that he thought he was good for to pay Azrael back, just like what he had been doing for years. He had been killing and killing and killing to repent for not helping Pavel at that auction fifteen years ago. They were the same, in the end. Inescapably similar.
"Are you sure?" Pavel's voice was persistent, demanding but calm. It was obvious why he didn't believe Azrael but, even if he told him the entire truth, they would both be left confused because even Azrael didn't understand how he felt about what had happened. Azrael knew it was for the best if he ignored it. "Ah, I shouldn't be so pushy. I'm being rude, aren't I?" The smile that had faltered came back much broader now. "Anyway, I wanted to take you out to dinner."
"Dinner?" Azrael couldn't help but be stumped by this offer. Pavel didn't have the spare income to be frivolous and it seemed he was trying to repay him again. Azrael was ready to refuse when Pavel spoke up again, clearly predicting his mindset.
"Don't worry, this isn't because I don't want to feel indebted to you. This is a meal with… with a friend." Now was the only time that Pavel's gazed danced away. It seemed he was embarrassed or perhaps anxious that Azrael didn't view him as a friend as well.
While Azrael wasn't quite sure how he would describe his relationship with Pavel, he wouldn't push away or disregard the olive branch that he was painstakingly extending between them. This time would help him to work through his turbulent emotions and would allow Pavel to, perhaps, come to terms with the fact he owes Azrael nothing at all. Being a friend is the least Azrael could do. "I would like that. It's been a while since I've had a… a friend."
Have you ever had one, Azrael?
Pavel nodded quite vigorously at Azrael's response, his face splitting into an exceptionally wide smile, one that he had yet to show. Pavel's rabbit teeth were on full display and his eyes crinkled into crescent moons; the vibrant gold-speckled irises hidden entirely by his evident joy. Azrael could almost convince himself that his slow heart skipped a beat. "I'm glad. Would you be ready to go soon, get ahead of the dinner rush? The restaurant we're going to can get really busy."
"I'd have to get changed. Where are we going?" Azrael rolled his shoulders, his upper back suddenly feeling very stiff form the extended time he had been hunched over the computer. Shaking out the cricks in his joints, Azrael spun on his heel so he could go upstairs as soon as he got Pavel's response. "What's the dress code?"
"Ah, you know that Thai restaurant that opened a couple months ago? It's just down the road, called Taste of Bangkok." Azrael stumbled in his movement at the casual way Pavel announced that. It hadn't been long since that place's opening so Azrael still remembered seeing an advertisement for it – the prices had been astoundingly high. The place was not somewhere Azrael would go even though he had the means to go whenever he wanted to.
Keeping his befuddlement to himself, Azrael turned to look at Pavel. "Why there? It's… ritzy." He hoped that that didn't come across disrespectfully, rather than just like a friend would ask another when someone was offering to pay for their meal.
"I know the owner. We go way back. Knows my situation and I get to eat for free, though this will be the first time I've used that privilege." Azrael let out a silent breath of relief that he wouldn't be putting Pavel in a rough situation. Pavel flashed him a smile, unaware of his worry, it seemed, as he waited for Azrael to get ready for their visit to the restaurant. "Wear something nice."
Nodding, Azrael left the kitchen so he could get changed. It wouldn't be hard for him to wear 'something nice' considering his wardrobe of choice was a constant business casual – a hammered-in habit from his days of wearing nothing but suits. As Azrael changed, he felt himself frowning slightly, a heavy feeling settling into his stomach. Why did Pavel know the owner? What circumstances had led to their acquaintance? Something he couldn't identify was suffocating him, crashing into his ribs, and crushing his lungs. An oppressive, unfamiliar feeling.
I'm… jealous?
-
Standing in front of the restaurant, Azrael took in the cursive and the subtle hint of gold on the logo, the way the brickwork of the building seemed so perfect it could be fake and the crystal-clear floor-to-ceiling windows that gave way to the gorgeous interior. In theory, he should be appreciating the view and looking forward to eating here but all Azrael could think about was the relationship between this mysterious owner and Pavel.
Azrael found himself homing in on the man, looking only at Pavel as he led them to the host and gave them a sheepish, but dashing smile. "Hi, I've got a table for two under the name Pavel. Could you let Ben know I'm here?"
The host perked up, either at Pavel's name itself or his dropping the first name of the owner so casually, and gave a curt nod. "Follow me then, sirs."
They walked across the dark wood floors but all Azrael could think about was the fact Pavel really did know this owner, this Ben character. They were so close as to be on a first-name basis – nicknames, even. While that may be insignificant to the general populace, to people like Azrael, and undoubtedly Pavel too, it was quite important when someone shared their real name, especially a first name. That was why it had been one of the first things Azrael had told Pavel was his name, even if he had had to pry for him to tell him. It was a show of respect.
Finally, they were taken into a little annexe, shut off from the main body of the restaurant so they had privacy. Azrael couldn't help but wonder if Pavel had purposefully chosen this spot for some reason or if it didn't matter at all, just a random table. After they had settled in and ordered food, Azrael was about to start on some attempted small talk when Pavel's attention was dragged away from the retreating waiter.
Pavel's eyes lit up when he looked back up at Azrael. No, not at me, behind me. Curious, Azrael was about to turn around to see what it was he was so excited to see when he practically jumped out of his chair and wrapped the still-unseen thing in an embrace. Probably a person then. "Ben, it's been ages, how are you? I'm so sorry I couldn't make it to the wedding."
Wedding? That's good, Ben is married. Azrael's brow crinkled at that thought. He cleared his throat and stood up so he could greet Pavel's friend properly. However, Azrael went unnoticed for a moment as Ben and Pavel curled up in an embrace, quite literally.
"Ah, don't worry, I know why you couldn't be there. I can't wait for you to meet Rose in person." Ben responded; her face buried in the hair on the top of Pavel's head. Her serpentine tail coiled tightly around Pavel's legs. I haven't seen a naga since I was with Master Lynch. "Now, you have to introDuce me to this new face, no?"
Pulling out of the hug, she finally looked at Azrael. Their eyes met, a spark of recognition tickled the far recesses of Azrael's mind, and it seemed that Ben experienced something similar but far more palpably. Her face drained of all colour and her widened as she hastily shoved Pavel behind her with a hiss.
"Wait, what's wrong? He's my friend!" He exclaimed, trying to struggle back around Ben's lithe form, her human upper body rising up to meet Azrael eye-to-eye as she defensively coiled her snake-like lower half around Pavel. He stared at her, wide-eyed and terrified. "Ben?"
"This is not a friend." Her words were guttural, throaty as she snarled her retort. The unnatural green of her eyes glowed with a gruesome power, threatening Azrael with death silently. The woman who had so gently held Pavel was long gone, replaced with a hideous, powerful monster.
Azrael had killed a handful of naga before, but it had almost cost him his life each time and he didn't intend to do it again if he didn't need to. They were a powerful species. To show that Azrael wasn't a threat and that he didn't want to fight, he took a step back before glancing between her and Pavel. "I don't think we've met before. I'm Azrael, a… friend of Pavel's." Against his better judgement, Azrael extended his hand out, an olive branch. He had to hope this would work; he didn't want to have to fight anyone, not in front of Pavel.
"I know who you are. I remember you, dragon." She was snarling, her fangs flashing from behind her lips as she stared Azrael down. Her dark, muscular arms that were on display flexed as if she were holding herself back from attacking him on the spot. "You killed my father."