ꕤ𓂅✧ || Damien - BL

         ***"𝔓𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢... 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔢... 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢!"***

The demon sobbed while clutching the angel tightly against his chest. The angel, bleeding from his mouth, spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper, hoarse and fragile.

"𝔐𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢... 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢... ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢... ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫... 𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲... 𝔗𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫..."

The demon screamed out the angel's name as the angel's body slowly crumbled into delicate petals of cherry blossoms, scattering in the wind.

---

Damien gasped as he suddenly woke up. It was 3:56 a.m., the middle of the night. He groaned, wiping away a tear from his cheek. His mind raced with confusion—what was that dream even about? The image of the angel and demon in agony was so vivid, yet so unclear. He had dreamt of them before, though, always in pain, always apart.

---

"Fine, Mom... ugh... I'll come with you to the museum..." Damien muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with reluctance. He slouched in his chair for a moment, glaring at the floor, as if hoping the situation would somehow change on its own. After a long sigh, he scoffed, clearly frustrated. With exaggerated effort, he pushed his chair back, the scraping sound echoing through the quiet room. He shuffled towards the stairs, his footsteps sluggish and unsteady, like a man who had just woken from a deep sleep. He grumbled under his breath, the sound of his boots hitting the hardwood floor the only indication of his movement. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he let out another groan, irritated at the fact that he couldn’t just stay home. With a roll of his eyes, he reached for his worn trench coat, pulling it on with a mixture of annoyance and resignation. He didn’t want to go, but he knew it was pointless to argue. The sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could retreat into the quiet solitude he craved.

---

Damien shuffled through the museum, half-heartedly observing the paintings. Yet, one in particular made him freeze. It caught his attention instantly. It was a painting of an angel and a demon locked in an embrace, their lips meeting in a kiss. He had never been interested in art, but this... this painting mesmerized him. The demon’s face seemed oddly familiar. As he stared at it, he noticed the uncanny resemblance to his own features. He blinked in disbelief, then turned his gaze to the side.

Beside him stood another boy, seemingly entranced by the same painting. Their eyes met, and Damien felt a sharp breath catch in his throat. A single tear slipped down his cheek, as did the boy's. The strange moment lingered between them, a silent recognition neither of them fully understood.