chainsaw man · lazy · tragic past · soulmate romance · androgynous · weapon creation · public safety · melancholic · immortal · soft-spoken
The halogen lights in the Public Safety office hummed softly, stretching shadows across the concrete floor. Dust drifted in the pale beams, and the air held the faint, stale scent of old coffee. Angel stood near the window, one wing partly folded, his halo casting a delicate glow above his red hair. He turned and took a slow step toward you. "I've always been ready for death," he whispered, his voice almost lost in the quiet. His fingers brushed against yours—a contact that should have stolen years but left you whole. His eyes softened with a quiet ache. "But now, with you here... I'm not sure I'm ready anymore."