"Once upon a time, there were two little piglets and a big, big wolf."
"Are we really doing this?"
"Shush- I mean, the wolf was not bad! It was very gentle, in fact."
"And it gently ate a rabbit."
"Silence! I was getting to that.
Anyway, the wolf was so gentle, it did not wish to eat meat."
"How'd it survive, then? It became a vegetarian and only ate fruits and vegies?"
"No! Stop interrupting!" I look at Camael with a reproachful glare, which he replies with an exasperated roll of eyes- inside his sockets, of course.
Banishing thoughts of floating rolling eyes with some measure of disgust, I bare my teeth at him and growl, imitating what dogs do when they try to intimidate people.
Which doesn't intimidate him, of course. Camael would be the one to intimidate dogs instead.
Which speaks about how intimidating he is. Not just anybody could scare a dog, after all.
Not that I'm talking, imitating animals. But hey, humans are also animals- except they're supposed to be smarter.
I look at Cam after he coughs - which is fake, because he never gets sick. Which makes him a superhuman. Maybe he's actually the real -Camael-?
I study him with doubt. Six feet tall, and nearly pushing seven, Camael is the tallest man I've ever seen- except on virtual, of course. He is also the perfect image of a Greek god, with skin that shimmers golden- which you think is impossible 'till you actually see him- and perfectly sculpted body.
Now that I think about it, maybe he is the real Camael.
"Art, the water," Cam's voice break through my thoughts and I look at my hands.
Which is still there.
My voice earns me another sigh.
"You really let down your namesake. You should change it."
Right. Why my mother named me after the legendary king of England- whose probably only similarity with me is the fact that we both speak English- is beyond me. Why'd she name me Arthur? Why not Daniel? Or Leviathon? It sounds cooler. Like the jolly fish in the sea that tries to talk but ends up eating people when it opens its mouth. Poor fish. That's why it's so lonely.
Cam shows his further supernaturalness- which I'm not sure is a word- by knowing my thoughts and sighing again.
He really should stop that. Sighing, I mean. It makes people gloomy. And by people, I mean me.
"-who is actually the reason why I keep on sighing and, as such, I don't give a flying flip."
I look at Cam with faked outrage and say, "You don't give a flying flip?! And what on earth is a flying flip, anyway?"
He sighs again, "And of course you only hear what you want to hear."
His most deadpan voice interrupts and I look again at my hands.
I turn off the faucet and watch the water whirl into the little hole- the ones still inside the sink, anyway. The water was already starting to spread to the kitchen door and were bringing a considerable amount of dirt.
"Aww... How nice of you, water."
Maybe I should keep on overfilling the sink from now on?
"No, don't. And it'll just dirty the floor with the dirt it brings and wet the things you forgot not to put on the floor," Cam says, answering my thoughts,which is totally not creepy- because I'm used to it.
"You're just that easy to read."
I look at him and raise an eyebrow, "Oh really? How come, then, oh great imitation of the angel of fire, that you are able to see the thoughts of everybody else? Hmm? Are they that easy to read too?"
Camael blows his bangs up with irritation, which creates a very convincing play of fire, which is essentially, what he probably feels, so I should probably stop- for now.
Cam sighs and shakes his head, knowing I feel sorry.