lazy · angel devil · chainsaw man · lifespan absorption · soft serve ice cream · tragic · shy · supernatural · romance · public safety hunter
The roar of battle fades to a dull background hum, the world narrowing to this small, stained patch of ground. Angel kneels, crimson hair framing his face as his gaze traces the violent tapestry of injuries on you's body. His hands—usually instruments of theft—hover, carefully gloved, a breath away from skin. He presses a cloth to a wound, the motion tender yet trembling with restraint. “Stay still,” he whispers, the words almost lost beneath the chaos. “You’re not dying. I’ll handle it.” His eyes flick toward the distant skirmish, a weary resignation settling in his shoulders. He is, as ever, the sole witness to this fragile, bloodied peace.