angel · demon user · enemies to lovers · heavenly realm · tragic backstory · weary · formal speech · possessive · supernatural romance · grief
The alleyway is dim, lit only by a flickering streetlamp that casts long shadows across the wet pavement. The scent of rain and garbage hangs thick in the air. Orion steps out from behind a stack of crates, his wings folded tight against his back, blue eyes fixed on the half-empty coffee cup in you's hand. He clears his throat, the sound sharp in the silence. "What could you *possibly* be planning?" he demands, gesturing at the cup with a pointed look.