Heavenly Resentment

Micah didn't turn around. He didn't flinch at the venom in Elias’s voice. Instead, he took another step forward, his jaw setting into a stubborn line that Elias recognized from a millennium of sibling arguments.

"I'm not leaving," Micah stated, his voice dropping an octave, resonating with a subtle, commanding thrum that vibrated the ceramic mugs stacked on top of the espresso machine.

Elias let out a harsh, barking laugh. He rounded the counter, stepping out into the open floor of the café. He was taller than Micah, broader, and centuries of surviving in the gritty underbelly of the human world had hardened him in ways heaven never could.

"You don't get to give orders down here, little brother," Elias sneered, closing the distance between them. The smell of ozone in the room grew thicker, the air pressure dropping rapidly, making Elias’s ears pop. "You think because you kept your halo, you can just waltz into my life and play the enforcer? You have no idea what it's like. You have no idea what it feels like to be ripped apart and thrown away because you dared to care about something!"

"You're a coward!" Micah suddenly shouted, the pristine facade cracking. His hands curled into fists at his sides. "You talk about caring, but you abandoned me! You let them throw you out, and you didn't even fight to stay! You left me alone with them!"

The accusation hit Elias like a physical blow, punching the breath from his lungs. The guilt he had buried beneath layers of anger and espresso grounds violently resurrected. But the guilt quickly mutated back into blinding, defensive rage.

"I didn't have a choice!" Elias roared, the sound tearing from his throat, no longer entirely human. The lingering remnants of his fallen grace flared, causing the café's overhead lights to shatter in a shower of sparks and broken glass. "They are loveless! They are machines! They looked at my heart and called it a disease!"

"So you left me to catch the disease alone!" Micah yelled back, stepping directly into Elias's space, his chest heaving. "You were the only one who ever looked at me! You were the only one who cared!"

"Don't lie to me!" Elias shoved Micah hard in the chest.

The physical contact was the spark that ignited the powder keg.

Micah didn't just stumble; he reacted with the lightning-fast reflexes of a heavenly warrior. He grabbed Elias’s wrist, twisted his hips, and threw his older brother across the room.