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Marc wakes up from his sleep with a start, looking around the dark room quickly. He must’ve had a nightmare, but he can’t recall any of it. His breath slows to a normal pace, and he walks out into the hall. Marc didn’t bother to light a candle, so he just walks down the halls in the dark, not paying much attention to where he’s going. Finally he finds himself at the door of the study, why he walked here of all places he isn’t sure. Without thinking, he opens the door and walks in.
He had expected the study to be dark as well, but to Marc’s surprise it’s lit up by a candle on one of the far tables. He walks towards it without thinking, and when he reaches the table he looks over its contents. Books on religion, from what Marc can see. He picks one up and starts flipping through it, and he’s so absorbed with its contents that he doesn’t notice the other person in the room. Not until they make a sound, that is.
Marc spins around to see Olivier with an armful of books. They met a few days ago, and ever since, Olivier has been staying at Marc’s home as a guest. And though they’ve talked often enough during the time they’ve been here, Marc had no idea they were religious, more importantly, he hadn't expected that they would sneak into his study in the dead of night.
“Can I ask what you’re doing here at such a late hour?” Marc asks, trying to muster up the strength his voice normally carries, but not quite succeeding.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Olivier says quickly, though they seem conflicted. A few books start to slip out of their hands and Marc notices just in time to catch them before they hit the floor. But instead of handing them to Olivier he glances at the titles then places them on the desk behind himself.
He turns back around and looks at Olivier. Their hair is down, and unruly as if they’ve been running their hands through it a lot. And they are still dressed in their clothes from the other day. Suddenly Marc thinks of how much of a mess he must be, standing there still half asleep in only his bedclothes.
Trying to disregard that, Marc clears his throat and gestures to the desk. “So what’s with all of this?”
Olivier’s voice is quiet as they go to say something, seeming to stumble over their words. They quickly give up on that and instead walk closer to Marc and place the remaining books on the desk with a small sigh. Turning to face Marc again, they speak up.
“What do you know about angels?”
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