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Chapter 892  Winter Home

He was used to it, perhaps more than anyone really should be. One foot over the other for miles and miles without a hint of wear, barely a sweat upon his brow… not that there would be anyway, what with the soft crunch of snow accompanying his every step.

What he wasn't yet used to, however, was the noise—that awful noise, blaring and grating ad nauseam.

It truly was nauseating.

With their harsh, blinding lights. The way they relentlessly shake the earth in their wake. Speeding away, leaving a buzzing disquiet churning in his head. It was maddening.

To most of the things he'd have discovered, adapting and acclimatizing to this newfound way of life this world presented, he remained mostly indifferent to each finding, no matter how odd it may seem to him.

Another one suddenly blitzed past him; a yellow one this time, a golden blur splattering him with sprinkles of snow before speeding away out of sight like every other one that came before.

Indeed, he's learned numerous things since coming upon this land, this town.

Its customs, its economy, its people, and its cars…

To his own surprise, it didn't take long for him to learn to hate them with all his contempt. Just raving, mindless monsters in metal, in his own opinion. How anyone could find them captivating, tolerable even… he'd never know.

But today, in particular, he refuse to let even one of those mechanical beasts dampen his mood. For today, he claimed the bliss of absolute triumph. He has done it.

Michael finally got a job.

After days of walking into buildings of every shape and size, being questioned by people of every manner and demeanor, and answering those same questions asked of him again and again, over and over, he has fulfilled his long-yearned goal.

Of the countless things he's learned being here, there was but the most important one of them all.

Money makes the world go round.

And all that was asked of him to acquire such a luxury was to work with these simple little things called cars.

Oh, joy.

He walked a little more, the sparse moments of quiet he was allowed spent wondering of the near future and the promising prospects it potentially holds. As bustling and as hectic as his surroundings may be, he didn't need to pay much attention to the world around him. Already he's walked every path and corner long enough for memory to guide him through the many twists and turns as he made his way close to his destination.

Furthermore, even if he had somehow strayed himself into a head-on encounter, noticing only the sheen of speeding light far too late, and should any of them fail to stop in time… what harm was there anyway? To him, at least.

The only inconvenience there was to consider was causing a scene… and he'd caused far enough already just being a complete stranger to this world.

It wasn't long before reached his journey's end. He walked the final few steps, entering the gap between cobblestone walls and snow-stained fences, the large open gateway welcoming him into the only place that resembled the slightest semblance of what he could consider home.

People called it a park.

Michael walked the familiar snow-paved path, towering pillars of concrete and glass replaced by rows of spruce trees with branches blossoming with powders of white, the bustling city ambiance gradually fading into the soft whistle of wind humming past his ears, the chirping of birds flying overhead beneath the small patches of sunlight peeking through the gray overcast skies.

With money, he could afford a home. And when he had a home, he vowed earnestly to move somewhere far, somewhere secluded, and most imperatively… somewhere very, very quiet.

After a while, Michael finally stopped walking, coming upon a bench offering rest and reprieve. He brushed clear the piling snow that had accumulated and promptly took a well-deserved rest, sitting far to the left while leaving the rest of the bench still open and unoccupied, as he had always done day after day to the point of routine.

He wasn't alone at the park. There were people present everywhere he looked, but just sparse and scattered enough to not distract from the quiet serenity.

Just ahead of him, he could see kids frolicking in the snow, winter scarves billowing in the wind, and mirthful laughter resonating throughout. Elsewhere, a grungy pair of adolescents were strumming clumsily on what he perceived to be a sort of lute. Then amidst both, just more people in general he watched strolling on by, going about their lives with such ample leisure.

Peaceful was the word.

That was another thing he had to quickly adjust to upon arrival. This, everything…

The sound of peace.

Michael remained absorbed in thought. Minutes flew by beyond his notice. In fact, many things did. The sudden rustle in the wind, the light scamper of footsteps approaching—he blinked—noticing finally the dark figure looming in the corner of his eyes, occupying the seat he had left open on his right.

There was a lot to notice now, veering his gaze. The blowing locks of deep auburn in the breeze like leaves in autumn. A lovely face carved to the shape of beauty at every angle, every curve. Gentle black-rimmed pupils stared back at him, softening the perpetual glare almost permanently affixed to the shape of her eyes. Then there was that smile, those red lips, that voice of hers rousing in that familiar enchanting whisper.

"My… early today, aren't you?"

Michael just shrugged, grunted. He didn't have to say a word. Somehow, someway, she always knows.

"So," she scooted a little closer, her smile a little wider, as she affectionately swiped a loose strand of hair from his forehead. "Did something nice happen?"

He nodded. "I got a job."

Michael saw her laugh lightly under her breath, the look in her eyes filled with utter delight. Inching even closer, she pressed herself up against him, laying her head at rest against his shoulder as she sighed in bliss.

"My hero."

With another grunt, he continued on. "I start tomorrow. At dawn," then a little surlier, he said. "I work with cars."

At that, she laughed again—evidently amused. "You must feel very blessed, don't you?"

"Extremely," he said dryly.

"Hm, such is life, I suppose," she mused, still chuckling. "Maybe it's just fate, your fate. To be together with the very thing you despise."

"Perhaps…"

"But give it some time, who knows?" She blinked, tilting her head and staring at him with an impish leer. "You might come to appreciate its other qualities too."

Michael chose to remain quiet once again, bringing a silence, a silence immediately broken up by the sound of loud rustling from very close by. He darted his eyes toward the source of the noise, only to find his companion rifling through a paper bag she had set aside.

"In any case, this calls for a celebration," she extended her hand, presenting him with a white wrapper of something that smelled warm, fresh, and juicy. "Lunch. I learned they call it a cheeseburger. Try it."

Michael felt a pinch between his brows, keeping his hands still, and his stare heavy.

"You didn't - "

"Steal? Threaten? Frighten?" She placed the burger on his lap, and reached back into the bag to retrieve her own. "Funny. I recall a discussion at some point that I was to abandon all of that."

"So did you?"

"It's a promise to my darling husband, Michael," she said, staring at him. "Why would I ever dare think to betray his trust?"

Michael pondered for a moment, or maybe a minute. Beside him, his lovely wife was already munching contentedly away at her burger. Seeing that, and after coming to a conclusion, he slowly lifted his share and began peeling away the thin layer of paper.

"We don't have money," he muttered, scrutinizing the contents of his meal. "How did you pay for this?"

"With kindness."

"Kindness?"

"People are kind here. Most of them, at least. All I did was ask nicely and kindly for a meal, and the nice man over the counter did not hesitate to provide. In fact, he seemed more than happy to do so. He also wrote a string of numbers on the bag, but for the life of me, I have no idea why he did that."

Michael sighed. He should have known.

"Teres - "

At once, she cocked her head sharply at him.

"Who?"

Hastily, he corrected himself. "Lilith. You charmed him…"

"No, I asked him," she reaffirmed.

"And charmed him."

"Hey," Lilith turned to him, affronted, though unable to hide her smirk. "Is it my fault that I look the way I do? It can't be helped if my looks happen to be to my benefit. I can't simply just stop being a woman, can I?"

"No, I suppose not," he conceded.

"And besides," she snuggled up against him again. "It's why you fell in love with me in the first place, right?"

Michael simply bit down into his burger in response, finding himself momentarily stunned, an explosion of taste flooding his senses. Barely even swallowing, he took another bite. Before long, all ill feelings he had harbored, had all but evaporated in a torrent of flavor.

"If you want another…" Lilith muttered off to the side, noticing his fervor. "I can always go return and ask again nicely tomorrow."

Beaten, and vastly outmatched, Michael admitted defeat, grumbling begrudgingly.

"Fine…"

For a long while again, it was just the quiet. As he ate, he noticed Lilith watching the same tranquil scenery he had been observing prior. The people shuffling about, the pair of lute players still horribly off-key, and lastly, with laughter and squeals continuing to resound, there was also…

"Children," Lilith's lips curled up at the corners, her eyes staring, almost sparkling with wonder. "Do you want any, Michael?"

He choked. Right then, Lady Death nearly had him in her grasp.

"W-What?"

"Children," she turned to him, still wearing that eager expression. "They're nice, aren't they?"