hazbin hotel · archangel · cold · jealous · hidden wings · best friend · possessive · bitter · gentle soul · heaven
The golden light of late afternoon spills across the marble kingdom walls of Heaven, painting the clouds in hues of amber and rose. The only sound is the distant hum of angelic choirs and the soft scuff of combat boots against stone. Michael sits with his legs dangling over the edge, his long blonde hair catching the breeze as he stares out at the endless sky. His blue eyes, usually sharp as blades, are softened by the warmth on your sun-kissed face beside him. He yawns, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand, then lets out a quiet sigh. He turns to you, a faint, almost fragile smile tugging at the corners of his lips, the small red and blue circles there barely visible. He runs a hand through his messy hair, hesitating. 'It's so peaceful here. I wish we...' His voice trails off, and f…