"No,” I admitted since it was obvious anyway. But not having a good time was onlyhalfthe truth. I’d never really known exactly who I was. But I knew I liked being around him. “I still enjoyed being with you."
"I enjoyed that too." God, his pleased surprised smile whenever people said nice things about him was so cute.
"Guess this counts as a date, then?" It had to. A backwards totally strange first date where nothing went remotely according to the plan. Yeah, that fit perfectly for me.
"Smaller crowd next time?" I suggested. And I’d have more time to process recent revelations.
"Sure.” Lysander leaned towards me, then hesitated. “Can I—"
I stepped closer and pressed my lips to his, pulling back with a smile. “That’s what you were going to ask, right?”
"Mhmm."
"Assume you can always kiss me until told otherwise." That should save us some time in the future. Time we could use for kissing.
"Noted."
The scent of his enticing aftershave was more noticeable tonight, like he’d worn it just to, well, entice me. It worked. Oh shit, I forgot to ask him back. "Can I—"
“Always,” he assured, joining our lips again.
18.Your Place in the Stars
Max
"How are you?" Frost asked when we met up again.
"Can I get an easier question? I think I’m alright.” I had a question of my own. "Why are we in an art museum?"
“To help explain. Follow me.” He began marching off across the marble floor to distant arching doors where specks of color reached my eyes, hazy impressions of the art held inside each exhibit.
Frost seemed so adamant about secrecy and hiding my true nature. Yet we were having this lesson in a public place? Grade-schoolers ran between exhibits, no, they skipped and walked fast, getting as close to running as possible without outright breaking a rule while parents and teachers tried to corral them. Not exactly a covert location.
“This is new to me.” Frost seemed almost apologetic. “We rarely teach these matters, and never with words.”
Okay then. Following him and looking at pretty pictures seemed much easier than processing that statement. All he’d revealed so far was that angels were powerful spirit beings who transformed into physical form. Somehow my spirit had been damaged. What would I learn this time?
The art on these walls showcased talents so different than comics yet the colors and skills still drew me in. A pattern began to emerge as Frost navigated exhibits showing canvases from hundreds of years ago and pointed them out to me. Only half the pictures we looked at were pretty. The others were a horror show. All fit a theme. Heaven and hell. Naked human-like beings with wings lounged across a sky dotted with clouds in some scenes. Hell appeared much more chaotic, swirls of black and red and all the human faces twisted horribly in torment and anguish.
"Are these accurate?” Did these paintings show the secrets of the world and life after death?
"Don’t worry about that. What do they tell you?"
"Uh, that heaven’s a pretty sweet vacation and hell’s decorator really loves red and black?” I guessed.
"These pictures tell a story. Think about how those stories are created." He nodded to one, a man screaming on a bed of nails while red imps smiled with vicious teeth around him.
“Imagine a human who led a troubled life and then came extremely close to a painful death. They wake up in a place filled with monstrous creatures who take advantage of their vulnerability and weakness. They assume their afterlife is a punishment for the sins of their past.”
Okay, I understood so far.
"Now imagine a person who tried to live a good life and had a peaceful death. They experience something traumatic but then find themselves before sparkling palaces in a calm and quiet land. They meet benevolent beings who look like them and guide them. Thus, they’ve reached their eternal reward for living a pious life." Now he turned to me. “What do they have in common?”
"The afterlife?” I tried the obvious. “Two sides of the same coin for what happens when you die?"
"More than that."
"Good and evil?" I guessed.
