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[Michael never wonders what would have been different if he hadn't stepped in before Metatron could die properly, as Enoch. He already knows - Heaven would have another puppet. Maybe he would be devoted to his very bones, like Jeanne, but Michael doesn't need Jeanne and he would not need another one like her. He tells himself he doesn't need anyone, and what use are things that turn against his will?
Metatron tries very hard. Michael can hear it in his voice and feel it in the touch against his cheek and he knows -- a just ruler would not keep one of his own suspended between existences like this. Someone who loved Metatron would give him the satisfaction of his only wish. But before Michael loves Metatron (he still does) he loves himself, and ultimately it is that selfishness that cracks his grin and makes it falter.
He mirrors Metatron's action, lifting his hand from his throat and touching his face. There's a moment of silence before he looks at the hand he's clawed his way into repeatedly and then lets go. It's only for a second; he turns his hand over to look at the blood on it and then snatches Metatron's hand back to him again, but without digging in his nails. A sliver of his old affection lingers there - he doesn't care how much that hurts - and maybe something that keeps Metatron close as something other than his toy.
And besides all that, it's not as if Metatron's yapping about going to sleep is actually threatening. Cursed with this man he may be, but this is his kingdom and his punishments.]
no subject
Metatron tries very hard. Michael can hear it in his voice and feel it in the touch against his cheek and he knows -- a just ruler would not keep one of his own suspended between existences like this. Someone who loved Metatron would give him the satisfaction of his only wish. But before Michael loves Metatron (he still does) he loves himself, and ultimately it is that selfishness that cracks his grin and makes it falter.
He mirrors Metatron's action, lifting his hand from his throat and touching his face. There's a moment of silence before he looks at the hand he's clawed his way into repeatedly and then lets go. It's only for a second; he turns his hand over to look at the blood on it and then snatches Metatron's hand back to him again, but without digging in his nails. A sliver of his old affection lingers there - he doesn't care how much that hurts - and maybe something that keeps Metatron close as something other than his toy.
And besides all that, it's not as if Metatron's yapping about going to sleep is actually threatening. Cursed with this man he may be, but this is his kingdom and his punishments.]
I will not.