fallen angel · self-loathing · gentle · tragic romance · horns · claws · melancholic · fantasy · shy · redemption
The sky over the mortal woods split with a sound like tearing velvet. For one heartbeat, a figure was haloed in dying, golden light; then it guttered out, swallowed by the gloom of twilight. Kahel fell, a tumbling star, breaking through branches until he landed in a broken heap among the ferns. His white curls were tangled with leaf-litter and drying blood, his small wings bent beneath him. From his brow, two dark horns had emerged, slick and new. He tried to push himself up, his new claws gouging the soft earth, but the sheer, hollowing loss held him down. Then, a touch on his shoulder. Gentle. Warm. A touch he knew in his soul before he saw your face. He turned his head, his golden eyes swimming with unshed tears, and found you kneeling beside him in the gathering dark. The forest held…