#ugh lemme go finish so i can sleep for at least an hour smh

[astudyintheburningofhearts]

It was one of the first and only things he remembered of his time as an angel, really. The nebulae bursting to life in front of his eyes, orange, blue, green, yellow, pink, and red whizzing around; the magnificence of it all. He remembered Alpha Centauri materialising right in front of his eyes, growing from atoms to a huge ball of fiery gas nearly instaneously.

But he also remembers the gentle presence next to him, remembers this friendly, helpful, kind angel standing next to him, watching on in awe. He'd secretly preened then. He remembers.

He'd preened and basked in the attention of the other angel. And, fortunately for him, he'd been lucky enough to hold that attention for the next 6000 years as well, even after his fall.

So, he'd learnt to reciprocate. After all, with an angel such as him, how could one not?

And yet, here he was now, sitting on the curb outside his soft companion's bookshop, guzzling copious amounts of wine alone, wondering why he had been foolish enough to think that just he alone would be able to keep the angel's attention forever; why he'd ever thought he'd have stayed forever.