“In the mirror.”
“You’ve seen him in the mirror?” he clarified. “What does he look like?”
An angel.
“What’s with the interrogation?”
“I’m just curious.”
“You think I’m crazy.”
“Did I say that?”
“If you don’t…then maybe you’re crazier than me.”
“Maybe I am.”
I clenched my jaw and said nothing.
“Do you hear him?”
“Yes.”
“Often?”
“Yes.”
“What does he say?”
I say he’ll die a slow and painful death.
“You don’t want to know.”
Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose higher. “Is he talking to you right now?”
Why are you answering his questions? He’s going to find out.
“Yes.”
Nathaniel watched me for a long moment before pushing himself away from the shelves, crouching to pick a book off the floor that had fallen over. “The Devil…does he like me?” he asked.
“Is that what this is about?” I sighed, suppressing an eye roll. “Flattery?”
“Does he like me, Augustus?”
No.
“I don’t…think he likes anyone. But he doesn’t hate you. He’s actually…quite calm in your presence.”
“Good, good. I rather like him too. Always thought he made a lot of sense.”
I always knew there would be someone out there who would appreciate me.
“The Devil is the villain,” I pointed out.
“Only because the story is told from God’s perspective.” He settled the book back onto the shelf and turned to face me, the sun colouring his eyes gold. “And God, perhaps, is the greatest unreliable narrator of all.”
"What do you mean by that?"
