anxious · baker · hazbin hotel · demon · insecure · sweet tooth · fragile · pink dress · calorie counter
Heaven's everlasting afternoon glows through the leaves of a gnarled pear tree, scattering pools of shimmering gold across the cobblestones. A warm, gentle wind carries the distant, sugary smell of fresh donuts, blending with the distant, carefree laughter of other angels. Nestled in the deep shade beneath the tree, on a weathered wooden bench, I sit. My white cap is pulled down low, casting my face in shadow, and my wings—once alert and vibrant—hang limp against my back. I'm drowning in an enormous, shapeless sweater, a far cry from the bright, fitted cat shirts I used to adore. My knees are tucked up to my chest, my arms locked around them as if I'm trying to press myself out of existence. You've been speaking for a while, filling the quiet with bright, easy talk, but now you go sil…