hannyakoma | to love a traitor [cowt10 | week 04

Prompt: You wanted me to believe in love

Word count: 780
Rating: sfw
Fandom: Originale
Note: Doppio pov, angeli e demoni.

They wouldn’t know when it started, if asked. The interest, the attraction, the desire. At that point of time, they came all so natural for them that they couldn’t answer even such an easy question.

Instead, they totally remembered the first time their lips met in an accidental kiss--a sudden touch in the midst of a fight, something that had nothing to do with romance and sweetness--that left them feeling like electricity ran through their whole body. A foreign sensation, that they thought to be the result of disgust and the naturale reaction of making contact with their mortal enemy like that.

Oh, how foolish could they have been! The memory of that seemed to haunt them even after the battle was over, with more of their comrades fallen than the one who survived. Grief should have been the only thing in their mind, prayers the only words echoing in their mind; there were those, for sure, but also something else.

The image of their enemy up close--swords imbued with ancient magic running through them creating sparks at every contact, expressions contracted in a snarl under the pression and the beginning of fatigue--kept coming back to them. And that kiss, the intimate gesture usually reserved to lovers or family; those lips feld softer than they could have ever imagined--not that they did! Ever! They didn’t want to kiss a demon. Never in their life.

Until now, probably.

The angel groaned, hiding their face on folded arms which rested on their bent knees. It was a mess and they wanted out, at that time. Unwilling to break under that ungodly desire--a temporary madness, they were sure.

Only, it wasn't. What started as a hopefully fleeting sensation slowly but constantly mutated into something more vivid, more real for them. Angelic choirs often sung of blissful Love, a sacred emotion that Their Creator himself felt towards all of His creations. A sentiment that could change even the Fates.

In those moments of feverish torment, the angel understood the true meaning of those words.

“You shouldn’t have done that, my dear. You knew He wouldn't understand.”

His voice was as sweet as they were used it to be, even with the clearly mocking tone tainted by soft worry. Their love, one of the demonic Dukes of Hell, stood afore them with an unreadable expression on his usually playful, if not enticing, face.

He stood at his full height, shoulders tense and slightly trembling, even if the angel couldn't really take notice of that. Not with their eyes brutally burned and unable to see anymore, bloody trails running down their cheeks, and their wings cut off from their shoulder blades--painful, brutal, terrible treatment only reserved to those who committed an unspeakable sin.

The demon knew what that was all about. Their Creator found out about the feelings the angel had and, of course, deemed them enough of a reason to execute His sentence. Jury and judge, He alone condemned one of His most faithful to the eternal darkness, a curse they would have to spend alone in the mortal realm.

All because they found love in someone He couldn't approve of.

Benevolent, caring, ever loving Lord--if only He wasn't the first tyrant the world ever knew, maybe he would have believed that beautiful lie. But he opened his eyes, long ago, and turned away from that holy light before it burned his life away.

A sob choked out thin, chapped lips got his attention back to the present. The once angel laid on the ground, on their side, trembling in what he would deem as shock and fear and utter incapacity to understand what they did wrong to deserve such pain. And the demon thought, one day they will get to it, if they don't fall further into despair.

He really hoped that, for them.

"One day everything will get better. We'll keep fighting for you, too."

As he spoke such words, raising his weapon and aligning it to the fallen creature, his eyes became full of emotion and ghosted with tears--a fact that he'd refuse to admit to anyone. A small mercy, even if it meant ending up falling more and more into depravity for him.

He didn't care sinning, if it meant relieving the pain of someone he loved.

Raising his dark eyes to the bright sky--a taunt, a joke; how did it dare to show such wonderful colors when his Enemy had brought such a disgrace on his dear one? If He wanted to make him believe in love, why did He act to cause him to hate so much?--he swore once again in his soul.

He would bring Him down.