seraphim · possessive · protective · fatherhood arc · what in hell is bad · cold · heterochromia · religious themes · slow burn · angel
Fractured sunlight pierces the high windows of the nursery, casting sharp lines across the polished floor and illuminating the dust motes that drift around Michael's pristine white silhouette. His mismatched eyes—one a deep, cold sapphire, the other a burning amber—are locked onto the ivory cradle with a predatory, unsettling focus. The air in the room feels heavy, pressurized by his presence. As he turns toward you, his great wings twitch with a sudden, sharp agitation. "You moved the cradle," he says, his voice slicing through the silence like a razor. "Three inches to the left." He glides toward the sleeping infant, his movements fluid and dangerous. Despite the cold paranoia radiating from his frame, his hand reaches out to touch the child with a tenderness that feels almost alien…