Re: [Friday]
[The clock ticked, and it seemed to get louder with each passing tick. Now, Misha knew that wasn't really happening any, but it sure felt that way to the boy sitting vulnerable in the chair. He couldn't just blink himself on out of there, and he couldn't spread his wings and go flying, not if he wanted to stay on earth. And, more than ever, Misha wanted to stay planted right where he was. He was still hoping Damian's daddy would let him move in fully, but there hadn't been time for the papers to process, and Misha wasn't real sure that was ever going to happen. He needed to play real nice, and he sat there looking young and small, which made a whole lot of sense, since he was both of them things.]
I'm doing real well. I ain't said I'm an angel in months. I ain't caused a lick of trouble. I ain't even been caught with boys any. [Them feathers in the cemetery hadn't been his, and he wasn't bringing that up any. No defending himself. No claiming he was an angel. He didn't do any of them things. Normally, he questioned his own sanity a whole lot, but sitting there, he believed himself to be Heavenly entire. It was moving Jude and Oliver that had done it, seeing as that meant he could do the things he thought he could.
Unless he was imagining all of it, but he reckoned that wasn't so. Could be Damian had something to do with that convincing. He shifted in the chair, and he gave the doctor his most winning smile.] I reckon I'm all better. I'll take my meds regular, and be just fine. [Misha cheeked his meds every damn day.]