Hermes didn't flinch at Raphael's question. He didn't even hesitate.
"I'm not a beetle," Hermes muttered. "I'm a mosquito."
For a moment, the world was silent. Then Raphael chuckled. A low, amused sound, curling at the edges like smoke.
"A mosquito?" He tilted his head, golden hair catching the light. "How delightfully humble."
Hermes scowled. "I wasn't joking."
"Oh, I know." Raphael's eyes glimmered, unreadable, as though the answer had amused him for reasons Hermes couldn't see. "But perhaps that is why I enjoy you, my Lord. You're painfully… honest."
Hermes turned away. His eyes fixed on the wall, on the lifeless quiet of the house behind them. Samuel was alive again, but the weight of it all clung to his chest.
Raphael broke the silence first. "Your mission is done, is it not?"
Hermes frowned. "And?"
"And…" Raphael stretched his arms out, shrugging lazily, "why don't we go somewhere for a while?"
Hermes's eyes narrowed. "Somewhere?"
"What do you have in mind?"
