Chapter Text
Any ounce of unwarranted respect Lute thought she had just gained for Abel vanishes as soon as she steps through the portal back into Heaven.
How fucking embarassing.
That’s twice now he’s donned a near lookalike of Adam’s helmet in order to intimidate her into standing down, and twice now that she’s fallen for it. Like some pathetic, little subordinate.
Never again.
-
The one thing she will reluctantly admit, that Abel taught her, was that she has to be patient. Her need for revenge has to be smart now that Adam is gone. All-in-guns-blazing isn’t going to work with Sera anymore, and Lute glares at the cause of that from her position atop the Exorcist tower.
Emily.
Emily makes Sera weak.
She watches that infuriating smile widen more and more after each visit to Hell. With her disgustingly sweet gift baskets and stupid notes that she passes between the two realms. A Seraphim reduced to a fucking carrier pidgeon.
It’s sickening.
Lute’s wings itch each time Emily opens the portal, just begging to follow her through and finally continue doing her job. The job she was literally made for.
Because what is her purpose outside of that?
“Hey, uh, Lute?” Her shoulders tense and she’s instantly on high alert. His voice turns her blood colder than it already is, and she wants nothing more than to rip his vocal cords out. “Sera has called a meeting. She wants you there.”
“Fuck off, Abel.”
She can hear him pout behind her, “aw, come on! I thought we were finally getting somewhere.”
Lute doesn’t pretend to entertain that with a response, simply flies away from him towards the meeting room, her glare never straying from the golden-winged Seraph below her until she’s through the open window.
Sera smiles at her and her stomach turns. “Lute, it’s good to see you. It’s been a while.”
Three weeks, four days, two hours, and seventeen minutes to be precise. But who’s counting? “Why am I here?”
“Let us wait for the others, shall we?”
The ticking of the grand clock makes Lute flinch with each passing second. She doesn't even know why they keep track of the time outside of exterminations. There is no concept of time here. She groans in frustration, “Sera-”
Large, double doors slam open, cutting her off, while Abel and Peter glide in, laughing between themselves. Lute rolls her eyes, but that quickly turns into a growl when the snake follows behind them. “Hello, Miss Phim! Your Highness!” Her growl thickens. Vile piece of shit. “I must say, I am truly honoured to be invited to one of your important meetings.” He takes a seat at the table, and Lute’s nails on her golden arm scrape through the wood.
Sera chuckles, “Pentious, please, I have told you countless times to call me Sera.”
“Would anyone care to explain to me what the actual fuck is going on? Because unless you’ve finally come to your senses and realised that I was right all along and I can get back to work, there’s no point in-”
“I’m so sorry I’m late!” The doors burst open again, Emily out of breath as she swiftly takes her seat next to Sera at the head of the table. “What did I miss?”
Abel smiles at her, all sweet and caring and gross. “Don’t worry, Em, we haven’t started yet.”
Peter plays with his fingers, clears his throat with a smirk between the two, and Sera just looks uncomfortable. “Right. Well. Yes. I called this meeting to check in with everyone. We have been very busy since the new treaty with Hell, and I believe a monthly meeting to catch up with each other will do us well. Since Hell is no longer the threat we feared-”
“You have got to be kidding! Hell is no longer a “threat”? Sera, please. Hell always was and always will be a threat.”
“Lute,” Sera warns.
She seethes. “You know I’m right! You all think that because you sang some pathetic fucking song together that those filthy sinners aren’t going to rise up again? You need to let us go down there and finish them off before they regain their strength.”
“You’re not right,” Emily glares.
“I’ve always been right,” she snarls back. “I was right about not trusting them, I was right about the uprising, and I was right about their attack on Heaven. And none of you listened to me. None of you listened to me,” she pauses, gestures to Emily’s wing, “and look what happened. The winners in Heaven are scared but you all refuse to see it. If you’d have let the Exorcists, let me, kill that depraved, cult-leading sack of shit when I had the chance, that weapon never would’ve existed. Our barrier never would’ve come down, and Emily’s perfectly pretty wings would still be intact. You’re all soft.” Sera shifts her gaze away in regret, before Lute zones in on each one of them individually, starting with Pentious. “Repulsive,” then Abel, “weak,” Peter, “pitiful.”
Lute doesn’t get the chance to reach Sera before Emily sighs, eyes burning. “Okay, that’s enough.”
A portal opens behind Lute before she’s quickly shoved through it, Emily closing it just as fast, leaving only the two of them, and Lute’s chest puffs out. “What in Heaven’s name do you think you’re doing?”
Emily almost squeaks, her eyes wide, “what do I think I’m doing? What do you think you’re doing? Were you actively trying to get yourself banished back there?”
“They need a reality check. It feels like I’m the only one who’s trying to keep Heaven safe from that scum.”
“Oh, don’t put yourself on a pedestal, Lute,” Emily laughs, fury seeping into her tone. “I saw you down there. You were willing to die to get your revenge. You were willing to let me die. You didn’t care about Heaven, you only cared about hurting Charlie and Vaggi.”
Lute shrugs, “two birds, one stone.”
“Just stop,” Emily snaps, “stop acting like you’re so virtuous when you’re killing innocent-”
“How many times do I need to remind you that they’re in Hell for a reason? You’re not listening. Again. You haven’t seen what I’ve seen, Emily. You think they’re all down there just because of some small “mistake” they made when they were human?” She’s too gullible. Too naive. Too innocent. Too busy seeing the world through rose coloured glasses to see the truth. “Paedohiles, rapists, serial killers. That’s who you’re talking about when you say everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Not some petty thief.”
Emily tilts her head, “and did that matter to you when you were slaughtering them?” Lute grits her teeth. “It didn’t, did it? You just killed whoever was in front of you at the time. What happens with their redemption, if they want it, is between them and God. It’s not our job to-”
“But it is my job! It is literally my job, Emily. What Heaven is there to protect when the most evil sinners can just… get an invitation in? Adam wouldn’t let this stand.”
“Adam would’ve followed orders.”
A low rumble begins in Lute’s throat. “I’ve never disobeyed an order.”
“You were sent to Hell to get me, and instead you tried to kill Vaggi. Is that not disobeying an order? You should be thankful Sera had other concerns at that moment.”
Lute snarls, “with all due respect, that order was given to Abel, and he failed, so where is his punishment? If that order was given directly to me, you wouldn’t have even noticed you were back in heaven until it was too late and the weapon exploded without your help to contain it.” Emily stays quiet, because the thought of half of Hell evaporating into nothingness, no Charlie, no Vaggi, hurts her more than she could possibly put into words. “Besides, you weren’t going to let us take you anywhere, might as well finish that bitch off while I was there.” Emily bites her tongue. “You know he isn’t fit to be commander, yet you still chose him over me. Why?”
“I can’t trust you.” Lute nods. Finally, a fucking direct and honest answer. And a fair one at that. Lute isn’t even sure she trusts herself at this point. But still. Abel?
“Even if there was,” she swallows the vomit down, “peace, between Heaven and Hell, our army still needs to be at its best. We haven’t been training, we haven’t been doing anything other than waiting around for a decision. You have soldiers sitting restlessly with no mission. They need a mission. They need… something. Abel can’t give them that. He’s weak.” Emily rolls her eyes, and Lute’s back straightens. “He is. He can’t make the hard decisions he will need to make when it comes to war. Not everything can be settled with a fucking hymn, okay? We were made to get our hands dirty so you never had to, so that the winners could live their afterlife without fear or worry. It doesn't have to be me, but it has to be somebody that can do that. Adam was a prick a lot of the time, even I can admit that, but he was a strong prick.”
It’s at this moment that Emily realises… Lute has nobody. She’s never seen Lute with anyone other than Adam. He was all she had, and he’s gone. But while Emily believes she is wrong about Abel, that doesn’t mean she doesn't deserve to be heard, that she deserves no input as to the army she’s spent her entire life in. “Abel isn’t weak.” Lute scoffs. “And I will not take his position away from him.”
“Emily!” Lute’s eyes widen, rage slowly being built back up because, “after everything I just said,” she steps closer to Emily, “you’re still not fucking listening!”
She takes one more step before a hand on her chest stops her oncoming rampage. “Stand down, Lieutenant," Emily says gently, smirking as Lute instantly halts, her shoulders stiff.
“Is that an order?” Her eyebrows furrow in a glare. “Ma’am?”
“It’s a request.” Lute relaxes, but Emily doesn't move her hand. “I won’t take his position, but maybe we can work out a compromise? I am listening, Lute, but that doesn’t mean you’ll get your own way.” Lute nods. It’s a start, she guesses. “What else?”
Lute’s fingers wrap around Emily’s wrist to keep her hand there, to show she isn’t a threat as she takes another step forward. “The sinners. I know you want to see the best in them, but I’ve seen first hand the truly horrific things they’re capable of. They can’t be trusted.”
“And I’ve seen the good that they’re capable of.”
It makes Lute sick to her stomach, the thought of those vile creatures sneaking their way into Emily’s trust. Too trusting. And she hates Charlie even more so for digging her claws into the Seraphim, warping the views of those below. But it does give her an idea. Smart revenge, a long game. She should’ve played along the entire time. “Okay, so how about we go down there together?” Emily’s eyes squint. “You show me how “good” they can be, and I’ll show you what they’re really like. Compromises, right?”
Emily thinks for a second, “I’d need your word that you won’t harm anyone.” Jackpot.
“Even when they attack me first?”
“If they attack you first,” they will, “you may defend yourself.”
Lute sees Emily’s exterior begin to crumble, hand slightly shaking as she takes yet another step forward. Intimidated, but not scared. “And you? You’re not a fighter, Emily, and I’m more than capable of protecting you.” Emily opens her mouth to argue before Lute swiftly shuts it down. “We’re not going to be in that shitty excuse of a hotel, so your safety can’t be guaranteed. Let me do my job.”
Reluctantly, Emily agrees. “I’ll talk to Charlie in the morning to see if she has space for us for a few nights.” Lute freezes. “How am I supposed to show you the good, if we’re not where the good is taking place?” A smirk. “Compromises. Right?”
“Fine,” Lute growls, “but if that little bitch-”
“Lute. Stop.” Emily’s brows suddenly furrow in concern, her other hand coming up to hold Lute’s jaw. “Fuck,” she breathes, “when was the last time you slept?”
Lute blinks in shock, not realising just how close they were standing together. Which is very, very close. Especially if Emily can see the red in her eyes, usually faded by the bright glow of her yellow irises. Instead of stepping away though, she simply frowns back. “Did you just say ‘fuck’?”
Emily giggles, finally pulling away from Lute, “I find it’s been happening more these past few weeks. I haven’t been struck down yet so I think we’re good,” she jokes. Lute can’t stop the tiny smile that threatens her mouth. “But seriously, you need to sleep. You’ll feel a lot better afterwards, I promise.”
“Angels don’t need sleep,” she argues.
“Yes. They do.” It’s final, not room to disagree. “Here, you can use my bed while I go back and tell the others I’m safe.”
Quite honestly, Lute had no idea where Emily portaled them to. She glances around the quarters, takes in all of the soft, comforting tones Emily has used throughout. Whites, pastel blues, and lilacs seem to be the main theme, but there are also splashes of yellows and greens that come from artwork and plants. It feels warm, welcoming.
It makes Lute feel like throwing the large, glass vase in the corner through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Nice place.”
“Thank you. I like it.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s the only place in Heaven nobody but me has access to. It’s all… very shared in the Seraphim world, but this is mine, and mine only.”
“So we really are completely alone? And you willingly put yourself in that position with me?”
Emily hums, “you wouldn’t hurt me. You’re a lot of things, Lute, but nobody can deny you’re a loyal soldier. Even if you were going to let me die in Hell.” Lute shrugs. “Get some sleep. There are spare clothes in the closet.” Before she can contemplate responding, Emily cuts her off. “And that, Lieutenant, is an order. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
With that, Emily disappears, and Lute catches a glimpse of the others rushing over to her before it closes.
She spends another half an hour or so taking in Emily’s quarters. Her various romance books, which… gag, to her perfectly set-up kitchen, to the huge cloud-like couch in the centre. A dusty TV sits in front of it, which is obviously there for show. The dust isn’t like the dust that gathers when something is unused, it’s more like book dust, and by the worn pages of a few certain books, it appears as though Emily prefers to read.
When she finally decides to change, she isn’t at all surprised by the rails of puffy dresses. No. What she is surprised by, is the assortment of sweats in every colour that could be named.
She begrudgingly takes the black set out and changes. Her uniform is still stained with Adam’s blood, no matter how many times she’s angrily tried to scrub it away. How dare he leave her alone to deal with all of this bullshit?
Her skin itches when she puts the sweats on. Of course they’re fucking soft and smell like jasmine. Sweet, floral, and a little bit earthy. She grunts as she looks down at her own clothes. Over starched, rough and durable, unscented, perfect for attack. Perfect for a soldier.
Angrily, she trudges over to the bed. She’s not the slightest bit tired, but as Emily pointed out, she’s undoubtedly loyal to her commands, and she was given a direct order to at least try, so she will. If only to prove to Emily that she’s a willing participant that will uphold her promise not to harm anyone in Hell.
At least this gives her time to think of a loophole for it.
The bed is softer than the clothes. It’s like laying on a cloud and every single section of her body screams at her to get the fuck off of it now. It isn’t right. Her senses are in overdrive. Too soft, too nice. The scent of jasmine mixes with almond from Emily’s pillow and she rubs harshly at her nose to stop the tickle it causes. It’s dizzying.
She’ll never sleep like this.
-
Emily barely manages to close the portal before she’s rushed, questions being shot at her from every direction in a flurry of panic and concern, until Sera demands the room. “Are you okay?”
She frowns, and her head tilts slightly. “Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Well,” Peter sings, “Lute was already pre-tty angry when you decided to shove her through a portal and lock her away.”
“I didn’t lock her away,” she rolls her eyes, “I took her away. Significant difference.”
Abel looks confused. “But… why?”
Emily shrugs, “she was hardly going to calm down once she got into that spiral. I didn’t want her doing anything stupid.” They all look at her in shock. “Despite what she’s done, she’s still one of us.” Focuses on Abel and Sera. “Lute respects the chain of command, but at this moment, Abel, she has no respect for you. And if she doesn’t respect you, none of them will. They listen to her.”
He holds his hands up, “hey. This was your decision.”
“I’m aware,” she grits out, “I just didn’t realise…” Clearing her throat and forcing back the tears that are bound to come, she voices her thoughts strongly. “Lute said the Exorcists are sitting around waiting for orders. It’s been almost a month since they were put on stand-by, what is your plan for them?”
Abel shrugs, and that’s really helpful. She aims the question at Sera, but her sister is still too sore from her past mistakes regarding them.
She asks the only person in the room with combat experience. “Pentious?”
“M-me?” He stutters. “Oh, well, well I must say, this is quite the unexpected responsibility. What would I do with them? Hmm. Let me see.” Emily smiles at how awkwardly adorable he is. “You’re always going to need an army, I s'pose. I see no reason why they shouldn't still be that. Only less… exorcism and more… defence. I can show them some of my defensive weapons! Cherri has been sending me quite the- oh. No. Forget I said that. Anyways I guess you can never be too safe,” he rushes at the end.
Emily nods, “I agree. They were created for a reason, to protect us. And not one of us ever bothered to question their lonely existence. We never bothered to try getting to know them. We just knew they were there, around somewhere. Maybe if we’d have tried, they wouldn’t be so,” she glares at Sera now, spitting her next word, “conditioned.”
“You’re not wrong,” Abel snorts, “the only way I can get Lute to listen to me is by talking to her like shi- like my dad.”
“And that stops now,” she warns. He sulks. “You’re not him, Abel, you never will be, and that’s one of the reasons I chose you, so stop trying to be something you’re not.” His eyes water in thanks, but she doesn’t have time for this. “I need you to work with Lute, okay? She’ll come around eventually if you listen to what she has to say, even if you don’t agree with it, just hear her out. If she throws a tantrum, so be it. You still get the final say. If you can’t make that choice, I will.”
Sera’s brow creases, “Emily, that is not your job. It's mine.”
“She’s still grieving, and she might be for a while. She respects you, Sera, but she’s already on the verge of breaking. You arguing against all of her opinions isn’t going to help that. You’re both just so… stubborn.”
A gasp fills the room, and Peter quickly covers his mouth. Sera blinks, her lips twisting into an amused grin. “Very well. We can discuss this more tomorrow.”
“Oh! Shoot. Yeah, it’s actually going to have to be a few days from now. When Lute and I get back.”
“Get back? Get back from where? And alone?” Abel looks down right offended at the thought of Emily and Lute not being there for a few days. She tries not to read too much into it.
“So,” Emily drags out, scratching the back of her neck, “funny story…”
-
Lute’s nose twitches as aromas flood into her nostrils, eyesight blurry when her eyes flutter open, and she groans as she stretches her back with several satisfying pops along her spine.
“Hey, you’re finally awake.” Awake? She shoots up in the bed, muscles taut and ready to attack. “Whoa, calm down. You’re okay.”
Sleep still lingers after her. “What the fuck?” She mumbles. “I actually fell asleep?”
She’s talking to herself, but Emily answers her anyway. “You’ve been out for at least five hours now. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Angels don’t need-”
“Yes. They do.” Lute scoffs. “Come on,” Emily plays, “are you going to sit there and pretend you don’t feel better after some decent sleep?” It’s the first time her eyes have closed and she hasn’t been plagued by images of Adam’s death, but Emily doesn’t need to know that. “You know I’m right,” she sings, mocking Lute’s words back at her.
Getting up from the bed and walking towards the kitchen, Lute eyes the pot Emily is stirring. “What is it?”
Emily shrugs, “just some stew. I didn’t want to make too much noise while you were sleeping, and I didn’t know how long that would be for. With stew, I can just dump everything in and leave it until I need it.”
Lute hates to admit it, but, “it smells good.” A blush coats Emily’s cheeks and she murmurs out a quiet ‘thank you’ while Lute takes a seat at the breakfast bar. The clothes don’t feel so itchy anymore, and the scents of jasmine and almond that still linger no longer make her feel dizzy. “Am I able to leave?”
“Do you want to leave?” Emily tilts her head, but she doesn’t look upset at the question.
“I don’t know. I just want to know if I’m able to, since you said you’re the only one able to enter.”
Emily stirs the pot once more before she grabs two bowls. “Technically, no. Not without me opening a portal for you. But there are ways I can give people access to that privilege. All us Seraphims have quarters like this.”
A hum leaves Lute’s lips, “so you could just keep a prisoner here if you wanted to? And nobody would ever know?”
“I guess that’s something that never crossed my mind,” Emily giggles, “but now I know I have the option…” She fills the bowls and slides one over to Lute, followed by a spoon and a chunk of bread.
Lute laughs, she can’t help it. It’s so out of character from what little she knows about Emily to joke about something like that. She takes a bite of the stew and barely holds herself back from moaning. Angels don’t need to eat, but Adam made them all get together once a week for a family meal regardless. It wasn’t good, mostly food for the sake of some extra fuel to aid recovery, but it was nice enough. This? This is something else.
“It’s nice to see you smile about something that doesn’t involve murder for once.” Lute doesn’t mention the fact that while it doesn't involve murder, it does involve kidnapping. She gestures to the bowl. “Good?” Lute nods. “Good.”
“Why are you being nice to me? All we’ve ever done is argue.”
Emily plays with her spoon. “Figured you could use a friend. Doesn’t seem like you’ve had many of those. Or, at least ones that were nice to you.”
The halo around Lute’s wrist shines bright. “Adam was nice to me.”
“Was he?”
There’s a tone to Emiy’s voice that Lute bristles at, and she glares up, teeth grinding together, “don’t you fucking dare. You have no right to-”
“You’re right,” Emily surrenders, “I’m sorry. It isn’t my place to judge the dynamics of your relationship with him.” She quickly changes the subject. “I managed to convince Abel to allow the Exorcists to continue their training.”
Lute perks up, “how? And why? You hate the Exorcists.”
Emily shakes her head, “that’s not true. I hate what you did with it, but I don’t hate you. And this is purely for defensive action if required.”
It will definitely be required, and Lute will be prepared. Sinners will never change, and she intends to prove that to Emily. But still, she plays along to stay in Emily’s favour. For now. “I can live with that. It’ll be good for them to blow off some steam. It’s been a while since I’ve put them in their place.”
“Can I come to watch the training when we get back?”
“If you want.”
“Really?” Emily squeals, and it shouldn’t make Lute smile the way she does. She masks it as quickly as she can.
Lute shrugs, “that’s if Abel is even competent enough to run a training session. He’ll probably hide away as soon as things get mildly interesting.”
Emily hums, “that’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about before we leave. I’d like it if the two of you could try to work together. Abel will still make all of the final decisions, but your input is just as important.”
“When did you become the new Sera? What happened to, ‘we can’t kill these poor, evil sinners, Lute!’,” she mocks in a high-pitched tone.
“I still believe that.” She’s careful not to use the word redemption, knowing it sets Lute off. “And I never called them poor, or evil. But I’m starting to understand the need for us being able to defend ourselves on the off-chance we would need to, as low a chance as that may be. I mean, obviously with Charlie being so busy with her therapy sessions, I’ve been spending more time with Vaggi and she’s helped me-” Her brow shoots up as Lute’s spoon scrapes loudly against the bottom of the bowl, the handle bent into the shape of her fingers, eyes dangerous. The Lute she had with her five minutes ago has completely disappeared. “Is this going to be a problem for you, Lieutenant?"
Lute shakes through deep breaths. If she reacts too strongly to this, Emily is never going to let her go down to Hell. “No, ma’am,” she forces out.
Emily walks around the bar to stand in front of her, and once again places her hand on Lute, this time on her shoulder. “Lute, don’t make me regret this.” It surprises Lute that Emily’s touch seems to ground her so quickly. So used to harsh words and even harsher punishments.
Disgusting, frankly. She hates herself for it, and she curls her fingers around Emily’s wrist like she’s starved for connection.
Perhaps she is.
“You have my word.”
-
Later into the night, they both sit on the couch. Emily is reading one of her worn books, curled up into a giant pillow with a blanket covering her while Lute sharpens her sword. She’d chosen the lavender sweats for herself, and they bring out her eyes-
Wait, what? Fuck. Sleep really messed her brain up.
Lute sharpens her blade harder.
“I like your wings, too.”
The sharpening stone slips off of the blade so violently that Lute barely has time to stop her flesh arm from connecting with steel. “Excuse me?”
Emily flips a page, taking that time to briefly glance at Lute’s shock. “Earlier. In the meeting room. You said my wings were pretty. I like yours, too.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“That’s okay,” Emily shrugs. “I still like yours. They look powerful like an eagle, yet still agile like a hawk, and fast like a falcon. They’re beautiful, Lute.”
Unbeknownst to Lute, her wings betray her by standing to attention, and her cheeks turn a golden hue. She shakes, turning back to focus on sharpening her sword. “What’s your book about?”
Emily brightens, both from the lack of dismissal from her compliment, and Lute’s interest in what she’s reading. Baby steps. “It’s about two girls who grew up together in an abusive orphanage, but one of them finds a way out, and soon they find themselves as enemies on opposing sides of a war, until they eventually find their way back to each other.” Lute raises her brow. “I may have simplified it a little, but yeah, they realise they’ve been in love with each other the entire time and it all works out in the end.” Lute grunts, and Emily eyes her warily. “Is that an issue for you?”
“Is what an issue?” She grumbles, before understanding what Emily’s asking, and she scoffs, “what? No. I’ve spent my entire life cooped up with dozens of women, Emily. They needed some stress relief somewhere.”
“Did you?”
Lute’s sharpening halts. “Sometimes.” She resumes.
“What about Adam?”
Her eyes close, and she takes a deep breath through her nose, trying not to lash out at the sound of his name. “Never happened.” She’s done talking about herself, and flips the question on Emily. “What about you? Can’t really imagine the Seraphs getting their rocks off.”
Emily smirks, “I think you’d be surprised.” Lute halts once more, places her sword and the stone gently to one side, and gives Emily her full attention. “What’s the matter? Did I just shatter your illusion of my innocence?”
“Shockingly, no.” Lute matches the smirk. “If anything, it makes you more interesting.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Emily looks at the time and sighs. “We should get some rest for tomorrow. Come on.”
Lute straightens, “you mean-”
“Why not? Unless you want to go back to the barracks?” Lute swears there’s a pout to Emily’s voice. It crawls under her skin, so deep in her stomach it’s almost nauseating.
“It’s fine,” she grunts. She’d rather be anywhere other than the barracks, knowing Abel will be around, trying to cling to her side as he has been doing since they were in Hell.
Weak.
Darkness surrounds them as they get under the covers of Emily’s bed, Lute adamantly facing away from her as Emily sighs comfortably from the other side. “They are pretty. Your wings.”
She can feel Emily smile behind her, and she squeezes her eyes tight enough to see stars.
It doesn’t take long for Emily’s breathing to even out, and Lute continues to plan her revenge in her mind. She turns over to see Emily already facing her. Her eyes are relaxed, a content lilt to her lips, breaths soft and quiet. Too innocent.
In the corner of the room, Adam smirks at her. “This is hot.”
“Shut up.”
Lute is going to end up breaking her fucking heart.