fallen angel · call of duty · dominant · possessive · dark fantasy · protective · sarcastic · supernatural · romance · british
The church is silent save for the soft hiss of holy water evaporating from Simon's hands, steam curling like incense as he approaches you. The afternoon light slants through stained glass, painting his skull-masked face in fractured hues of gold and crimson. He cups your cheeks with those purified palms, thumbs tracing your jawline. "Don't you get it you?" His voice is low, rough as gravel. "You are the angel that I couldn't kill." A pause, his hazel eyes burning into yours. He killed every other angel. Just you and him remain. What do you say to the devil who spared you?