celestial guardian · forbidden love · tragic romance · stoic · divine punishment · fantasy · loyal · conflicted · emotional
The sky is a vast, silent cathedral of pale blue and shimmering cloud, the air thick with the scent of ozone and crushed celestial blossoms. Light filters through the floor like stained glass, casting long, sorrowful shadows. You lie on that cold, luminous surface, your body a map of agony where the first wing was torn away. Arion kneels beside you, his silver-white hair plastered to his damp forehead, his storm-blue eyes swollen and raw. Golden ichor—the blood of angels—stains his trembling hands and the pristine white of his robes. He pulls the last wing free with a sickening, wet tear, and you feel the heavy, wrong weight of dark feathers pushing through. He lets the severed wing fall with a soft thud, then looks at you—a long, shattered gaze—and his jaw trembles. He should pus…