[Mr. Morningstar]

в общем, смотрите. я весь такой умный и красивый взял и написал фичок про Джона и Уэллса.
на английском.
по АУ!Джон ангел хранитель Уэллса.
потому что могу.
бтв, можно и нужно править май инглиш лёрнт виз Александр Невский, если нашли какой-то косячный косяк.

тут вы можете сломать свою жизнь моим английским и лэймовыми шутками
ЭНДЖОЙ

Harrison Wells had removed his sweatshirt with a sigh of relief and started undoing the belt when he heard a low whistle behind his back.

"My, oh my. What a show I'm getting from here, mate. Keep going, I can even put some music on for ya." Leaning by the doorway there has been standing a so called guardian angel of his. Wells put his belt back in place to what have been granted with a short scoff from the angel.

"What do you want?" Harrison was fully aware of the irritation spilling through his voice, but he was tired. Even he could use a piece of good rest time to time and a useless not even entirely physically real creature which had a habit of appearing whenever he wanted to wasn't really in Wells' plans for the evening.

"What, no «Hello, John, how are you?», «Long time no see, my feathered friend», «How it's going on up here, oh messenger of God?», «Mi casa es su casa»? Truly, Harrison, I'm wounded." John seemed to enjoy the situation too much to Wells' liking. Usually he tolerated the random presence of the angel and would have been even interested to try and discover some new piece of information about angels and God. But not now. Awfully bad timing he had in here.

To be true, John just was a strange angel at all. Looked not-angelic, talked not-angelic and of course acted not like one of them.
"Oh, c'mon, mate. We've been through it already. I showed you my wings, which is quite an intimate object for an angel. And you won't even show me a glimpse of your hip. Not fair, mate, huh?"

"We've also been through no mind-reading, John" Harrison replied rather calmly. The angel raised an eyebrow and put his hands up in front of him in a protective gesture.

"My bad then, mate. But it's like you're thinking out loud again. And I ain't popping up just on random, ya know. That's God's will and stuff. Not really my intentions, I just feel like it. Though I kind of missed ya, shady lad." Harrison sit down on the bed as John appeared now near the window. For a moment the angel seemed to be more interested in what was going on outside, so Wells stretched his legs and removed his glasses, placing them on the stand. The next thing Harrison saw was that John was now in front of him, watching him carefully. He tried to stay still, but his eyes narrowed.
"Can't you move like a normal person when you're around, John?"

"'F course I can, but that no fun at all. The weather is a bitch and you've got some bad bruises in here, mate." John smirked lazily, not minding the lack of distance between them. "Can heel them no problem, but that's not like Daddy-o and other big bads will be pleased with my help in a-" the angel wiggled his brows slightly "physical way, you know. Plus your fellas can get a little bit more suspicious. Not like some of them are not suspicious enough." As John talked Wells took his time to catch some small features of the angel, which he hadn't time to acknowledge earlier. John had some kind of a unnaturally whiskey eyes, warm brown tone, with a bits of gold lightning on the corners. And then there was something old and tired in theirs depth. Oh, that's interesting.

"Looked more angelic back then, so you wonder. Had this big bunch of blond curles and a white robe, oh, hated it. Coat's way better." the angel pulled back and straightened his dark red tie. Harrison let himself smirk a little.

"Can't really picture you that way."

"Oh, don't you try. I looked awful. Though all the nuns were in awe."

"So looked after nuns and now me? What an ungrateful change indeed." Wells closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
John fell silent and for a moment Harrison even thought that he was gone again somewhere down to his angelic business. But when he opened his eyes the angel was still here. Standing silently by the window again. As he spoke again, Wells' eyebrows shot up slightly.

"You know, I'd prefer not to look after anyone at all, mate. Not really a guardian material I am, so to say." Didn't Harrison think that his angel - oh, so John was his now - was rather unconfident. He seemed to be quite sure of himself most of the time, not tongue-tied and frankly saying was an interesting companion. When he wasn't trying to look all obedient and following the rules type of an angel. Wasn't his style at all, father all Wells wasn't stupid and he could feel the struggle when the angel acted like that.

"Not that I'm bad at my work, I wouldn't want to lower my authority in your eyes. Though I'm not really sure I am an authority to you at all, mister Wells." John emphasized the last words on purpose, making his voice sound mockingly official. "I'm just not that good at talking stuff."

Harrison raised an eyebrow again, tilting his head. "Oh?"

"Angel-talking stuff." John groaned, placing hands in pockets of his coat as Wells smirked. "We are the messengers of God. We spread His word among all. And lead them. And blah blah something about responsibility, destiny and no such thing as intervention. Only in case of emergency. Haven't really been a lot of emergencies in past thousand years." the angel appeared now sitting on the headboard of Harrison's bed. "Pity you hadn't been given to Zed instead. She really has a way with words. Also quite a pretty lass she is. Wondering how she's doing. Haven't seen her for a long time."

That was the first time John mentioned any other angels personally to Wells' memory and not only by "feathered bastards", so he finally tried to catch something new if his guardian didn't seem to want to go away so easily.

"Not her real name too, I guess?" Harrison moved slightly so he would be facing the angel again. John grinned and Wells could see something patronal and warm in his eyes, which felt unusual, but rather pleasant to his surprise.

"'F course not, mate. Haven't I told ya yet? We don't tell our real names to everyone. Real name gives power. And with great power comes great responsibility. And if even I'm, the one of these hella great God's creations, not really good with responsibility then what to say about, uh, just people."

Harrison hummed thoughtfully. "So I should not hope to know your real name then."

"Not that we are on a real name basis with each other, mate, ain't we?" John leaned closer, eyes narrowing. Wells' whole body tensed instinctively. Oh, he should definitely have a talk about personal space with this - being. Though he was quite sure that John has a clear understanding of this term and just preferred to ignore it. Like he ignored loads of other things accepted among humans. After some seconds of intense starring between them, the angel finally leaned back, laughing low, accompanied by the echo of thunder from the outside. Harrison relaxed a little, still slightly uncertain of what was going on in here.

"I still haven't received an answer. Why are you here exactly?" he asked, hesitating, while another lightning struck in the distance and he could hear the rain starting. "John? Are you even listening to me?"

"Hm? 'F course, I am. Though it should be other way round. But I guess you listened to me quite enough for today. So, why am I here? Well, in fact. Haven't been any God's will today, just ol' good me feeling a little lonely. C'mon we're getting closer, knowing each other better, creating a trustful ground and stuff. That's important!" the angel snapped his fingers, smiling shortly. Wells didn't really believe the whole thing.

"Can't see how other people whom you've guarded could even put up with you." Harrison sighed.

"Just the matter of time and you really get used to it. So till the next bonding time, Harrison. And you really can put a shirt on or something, so you know. Your chest is a little bit distracting for me." John winked, sounding pleased with himself.

"I wouldn't be sitting here bare-chested in the first place, if somebody didn't have a habit of appearing in situations..." Wells didn't finish the sentence as the angel had been already gone. He stared at the place where John was sitting just a second ago for a while, before huffing to the emptiness of the room.

"Did he really quote that Spider-Man line on me?"

@темы: кривые руки, DC, Constantine, Flash, олени в лесу читали Булгакова

Comments

[Граф Дэлэйст Эррел]

а можно теперь на русском?

[Mr. Morningstar]

Граф Дэлэйст Эррел, может, переведу попозже)

[Граф Дэлэйст Эррел]

Mr. Morningstar,

ааа, морнингстар, это прекрасно
диалоги просто прайслесс