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Angel felt numb.
Hell’s streets seemed to twist and turn as he curled up on himself, sat on a sidewalk in the middle of nowhere; his knees were drawn tightly to his chest, as if he could fold himself small enough to disappear.
His arms hurt from all the cuts and bruises Val had signed his skin with some hours ago, a few Vees spread here and there to remind him of who really owned him.
Who would always own him.
His eyes were wide open. Images of past tortures kept finding their way across his mind so it was better to just focus on something else entirely. Something as stupid as the rain puddles flowing between his feet or the way his wounded skin burned against the damp fabric of his dress. His body hadn’t yet managed to heal itself, lack of energy and strength being the reason.
Or maybe it was the effect of Val’s poison in his lungs.
Every muscle in his frail body ached, the skin of his face felt tender from the endless streams of tears.
Despite his disheveled state and awful mood, Val had still decided to send him out on street duty somewhere near Imp City, one final attempt to scrape up some ‘easy money’ from the desperate and deranged. It was the same routine Angel had been forced into countless times before, a testament to Val’s talent for ignoring everyone’s needs but his own.
The overlord had been especially disappointed in him this week. His performances, both on screen and on stage, hadn’t met his impossible standards. Standards Angel was starting to believe only existed to hurt him with what, to other people, may look like a reasonable explanation.
‘Go out and get fucked like the whore you are’.
It was a way to keep his name alive in his fans’ minds, a threat disguised as genuine advice.
As if Angel Dust could ever fade into a forgotten memory.
His body was in half the posters in Hell; for Satan’s sake, his legs alone were recognizable from five blocks away.
‘Make a good impression, amorcito.’
I will, Val.
As fucking always.
‘Keep whining like a little bitch and you're gonna regret it, fucking try me and you’ll see what I’m capable of.’
I’ll be good, Val.
I have nothing left to lose.
Angel had always been extremely confident in his street work. It was an act he could easily slip into like it were a second skin.
With wide, innocent eyes, a deliberate sway of his hips as he crossed sinners in his path, that calculated jolt that would let the strap of his sundress slide off his shoulder and drift lazily towards his elbow.
He would always be able to gain their attention, to turn a random sidewalk into a stage.
The sinner never got distracted by the dozens of eyes set on him, devouring the curve of his ass or his thighs with starving stares.
Performing had always been the one thing he was good at.
His only strength in a world where only perfection survives.
The only way to endure a life in Hell.
But that was then.
Now that same ass sat cold and soaked from the rain puddle he had accidentally collapsed on, too exhausted to move.
And those same thighs had thinned, now lanky and unfamiliar.
The confidence that used to come to him so easily felt incredibly far away, almost impossible to reach.
Food wasn’t a necessity, at least not according to Val.
Not when Angel hadn’t been a ‘good boy’ for the past year or so.
The words echoed in his skull like a mantra meant to tear him apart, inch by inch, and maybe… it had actually worked.
His head hurt, like a bunch of knives were constantly embedded deep within his brain.
Hunger had become almost an undetectable need, something he’d learned to swallow down along with everything else he was going through.
The first days after moving into Vee Tower had been the worst.
Every morning he would wake up in a panic, staring up at the (not so) unfamiliar ceiling, his brain scrambling to piece together where the Hell he was.
For a few precious seconds, confusion would prevail, sparing him from the horrible realization that would settle deep within his soul after a while, quickly turning into denial.
This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream.
A cruel… vivid nightmare.
All he had to do was shut his eyes again.
Just a few minutes.
Then he’d wake up in his bed, warm blankets pulled up to his neck, Fat Nuggets curled into his side, oinking gently in his sleep.
Jazz music drifting lazily from the lounge, Cherri’s furious cursing seeping through the paper-thin wall behind his head.
Husk’s hoarse grumbling from the room across the hall.
He would be back home.
Angel just had to believe that he deserved that, and he would wake up, get his old life back.
But he never did.
The sinner would always be bound to that empty room.
Sleeping on the bed where he had endured endless, painful nights.
With his eyes wide open, his soul would always find some rest, stuck inside the hotel’s bar, forming a never ending fantasy in his mind.
It grew harder and harder to drift back into that ideal world whenever he was forced to act in front of a camera.
High with all kinds of drugs, drunk off his ass, his eyes unfocused and dissociated as his body kept being used and abused by various actors.
Or clients.
Or Val…
It was easy to disappear at first, find himself seated on his usual stool at the bar talking to Husk about whatever dumb thing came to his mind, and he would listen.
He always listened.
Angel would wake up on whatever surface he’d been sprawled upon at some point during the shoot, ass in the air and legs spread wide open as everyone behind him got ready to leave.
The tears streaming down his face kept reminding him that none of it was true, that whatever he felt was just a consequence of Vox’s mind manipulation.
And it was easier to just believe it than face that feeling inside his heart.
Because Angel was a coward.
Day by day, his visions would become more and more unrealistic.
Husk reminding him that he wasn’t really there, that he would never be there again, that he didn’t deserve to be there.
As true as it was, he knew Husk would never say something like that.
And so he would wake up, suddenly gain consciousness with a hard dick pounding in his ass and his own hanging entirely asleep between his legs.
It would hurt and scar him, more than it usually did.
Despite all the drugs and alcohol he’d been indulging in, it seemed like none of it wanted to help him out.
He had been betrayed even by his oldest friends.
His limp body bent over a desk and his mind too weakened by the drugs to create a fantasy strong enough to resist a single thrust.
His whimpers were filled with pain, tears sliding down his cheeks as Val clapped his hands at his outstanding performance, offering him a prize he couldn’t refuse.
And he would never refuse.
With the poison sliding down his throat, he felt more alive.
He could perceive his heart pounding in his ears and his blood rushing through his body, searching for every last bit of venom it could find.
Every scene felt the same.
The repetitive pounding of hips against ass, the loud groans in his ears, hair pulled and cheeks slapped, throat choked and arms bound.
Angel always tried to ask Val for a blindfold, maybe getting lost in the darkness would help him to get back to the bar, let him talk to Husk one last time.
The overlord always refused.
His mind was never able to focus on the scripts, to moan the way the scene required him to.
His limbs were heavy and unresponsive, the other actor always doing all the work, using him like a toy.
And that’s all he was, after all.
Nothing more than a used up doll.
The moment the lights were directed towards his body, hot and blinding, reality would warp into something he had to survive rather than just live through.
A place where every breath felt scripted and wrong.
Whenever an actor grabbed him, leered down at him, and spat: ‘What do you want, bitch?” Angel was supposed to know his cue by heart.
The script demanded the same line every fucking time: “You, daddy.”
A line he’d delivered thousands of times before without so much as a thought.
But now?
His mouth betrayed him every fucking time.
His lips would refuse to part, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, his jaw clamped shut as if it could physically hold in the truth.
Because the truth wasn’t what Val wanted to hear, or what the cameras wanted to capture.
Hadn’t been in a long time.
I want to go home.
Was the real truth.
But he never would.
Angel knew that and, despite it all, he had hoped for a better fate, for once.
A simple hope within his soul.
But hopes didn’t exist in Hell. Sinners weren’t supposed to beg for a stroke of luck. They were meant to be crushed, destroyed.
Shattered, just like his heart.
At least Fat Nuggets was safe.
The overlord couldn’t use him as leverage anymore, couldn’t threaten to slaughter him and serve him up as a pork steak, couldn’t make promises to watch Angel starve until instinct finally kicked in and forced him to devour the very creature he loved most.
Even remembering it made his stomach twist.
Angel shuddered, his breath hitching as his chest fluff puffed outwards.
Fat Nuggets always loved to curl up there, right against his chest.
Their hearts beating as one.
The memory ached, it felt carved within him, deeper than any wound Val could ever inflict upon him, a reminder of love in a place that had none to offer.
That’s right.
Fat Nuggets would be taken care of… away from Val.
Away from him.
Nothing mattered more than that.
With his eyes closed, he could almost see it: Cherri desperately chasing Nuggs around the hotel at the ass crack of dawn, bumping against every new piece of furniture Charlie had randomly decided to cram into the halls during the night.
Nuggs squealing and grunting with mischievous glee as Cherri scowled at him, furious at being woken so early because of unhealthy eating habits her best friend had allowed.
Her old… best friend.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
He sniffled, the scene comforting his mind like an escape from the reality he was trapped in.
He… would always be trapped in.
The sinner grasped at every detail, trying to keep the fantasy alive.
What would happen once Cherri had reached the bar?
Husk would probably be seated behind it, the pig starving for his attention; most probably too lost in his thoughts, petting Nuggs’ head as he filled the pet’s personal bowl with nuts, to notice her presence, jumping like a cat when Cherri would inevitably start yelling at the pig, scolding him harshly for running away from her.
Angel chuckled.
Husk would surely take care of him.
Beneath all his grumbling and sharp words, Angel knew he had grown attached to the pig, more than he would ever care to admit, even to himself.
It showed in the small, careless gestures.
Like accidentally leaving Nuggs’ favorite nuts out in the lounge, so that the pig could nibble on them as a midnight snack.
Or sneaking careful glances towards him whenever the front door opened, making sure the pig wouldn’t make a run for it.
Letting Nuggs nap beside him on the couch, spreading his wings protectively over him to shield the pig from the blinding glow of the bar lights, muffling loud sounds with his soft feathers.
Angel knew he cared.
He was sure of it.
He was supposed to be happy about it but…
…but his chest felt tighter and the air suddenly seemed impossible to breathe in and out, like poison in his lungs.
A pink smoke settling deep within, clouding his mind and thoughts.
Thoughts!
Happy thoughts. That’s what Charlie had always taught him during their, short-lived, therapy sessions.
When you’re lost… think of what makes you truly happy.
Whatever it is you keep living for.
Okay, that was easy, he could do this.
Redemption was possible, so he was living for the chance to get redeemed one day, to be better, to…
He was living for his friends who… he had already lost…
…at the Hotel he was supposed to be in to get redeemed so…
Wait.
What was he living for?
This time, when the strap of his dress fell down to his elbow, no one turned around to look at him. No one made lewd comments about his body, or his mouth.
No one even cared.
His fame was wavering, his life (and death) long dream of becoming a star withering in front of his eyes.
Sinners are hungry for fresh meat, baby.
T-they couldn’t just…
The moment you step outside the spotlight, no one will remember you.
…just forget about him, not…
And your dream of becoming a star? Will vanish, amorcito.
…not this fast.
Why don’t we make a deal, baby? An eternal bond between you and me?
Fuck.
His friends, his new life, his hopes to maybe get redeemed one day… they had all disappeared.
Nothing was left of the person he once was.
Angel left to keep his friends safe but… what was he supposed to do now?
Who even was he?
A car tore past him, tires shrieking as they split a puddle in two.
Freezing water burst into the air, crashing down over Angel, knocking the air out of his lungs. Mud clung to his fur, heavy and suffocating.
«Seriously?! Fuck you, asshole!» he snapped, as he staggered up to his feet. One of his hands raised as he flipped the driver off.
He tried to brush the mud from his pink dress, but his fingers were stiff and clumsy from the cold, only managing to spread the stain further into the fabric. «As if this day could get any fucking worse!»
The car’s brake lights flared.
Angel stood there soaked and shaking in the glow of those red lights.
Then the engine growled, and the car drove backwards.
Angel barely had any time to react before the tires tore through the puddle again. Water and sludge surged up his bare legs, now soaking his thighs.
«Come again?» the incubus purred as he rolled the window down, letting an arm settle outside of it. «Didn’t hear ya over the sound of all yer moanin’»
Angel’s eye twitched.
With a wet pop, a third set of arms burst from his torso, each hand already gripping a rifle.
«What.» Angel growled. «Did you just say?»
«Here.» the incubus threw a handful of coins through the air, the metal clattering as they struck Angel’s chest and hit the ground. «Buy yourself a new dress. Doubt anyone’d wanna fuck you in-»
And Angel shot.
Glass exploded.
The bullet pierced clean through the hellborn’s nose, then tore through the passenger’s window.
Blood erupted across the steering wheel, the dashboard and across his mocking face.
The realization of what just happened yet to kick in.
He suddenly froze, smile falling as his fingers pressed against the wound, black blood spilling like ink out of it.
Angel lowered his rifles, seeing the man’s shocked expression and deeming him harmless enough.
What a pussy.
«Next time I won’t be so fuckin' generous.» he growled through clenched teeth.
Then he fired at the tires of his expensive car and, just to spite him, at the windshield too, reducing more glass in crystal rain.
«Here.» Angel bent over, picking up some of the coins that had spilled on the ground. He threw them back through the broken window, hitting him in the face. «Pay yourself a taxi, ya worthless sack a’ shit.»
The sinner turned around, hugging himself as he stumbled away.
He just wanted to go home.
But the hotel wasn’t his home anymore.
It was nothing to him.
He was nothing.
He was-
«Come here, bitch!»
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
«Listen, I’m not in the mood for-» Angel started, raising his head towards the voice, noticing a demon way taller than him, covered in feathers, just like Husk’s.
Or well… not just like his, this demon’s had a shade of blue in them… grey?
He looked like… an owl.
«Let go of me this instant!» the man spat back in a fancy accent.
«You don’t have the power to make demands out of me anymore, your highness.»
Your highness? The fuck was this dude on right now?
«Get your hands off me!» the owl demon screamed, as he tried to squirm out of the hellhound’s large hands.
«Not fun when it’s you the one who’s bound, huh?»
It really wasn’t Angel’s business, he told himself as he strode towards them.
The taller demon acted first. The lid of his coffee cup came off with a sudden flick, the liquid flying through the air before splashing all across the hellhound’s muzzle.
It must’ve been either iced or lukewarm since it barely got a reaction out of the other.
The hellborn simply wiped his face clean with the inside of his elbow, his eyes flashing with terrifying rage.
Angel’s only thought was getting back to Vee Tower, to collapse onto his bed, and maybe, if lady luck kissed him, get a decent night’s sleep.
But sleep felt distant as the knowledge that Val would make him pay for his lack of work tomorrow gnawed at his bones.
Yet he did not care.
Not anymore.
The back of the hellhound’s hand struck the other’s face with a slap.
The owl let out a high-pitched hoot, his head snapping violently to the side. His knees buckled and Angel let out a disappointed sigh.
Never show your weaknesses. Idiot.
Every soul who had been in Hell for more than five minutes certainly knew this. Or got the gist of it at least. But apparently not this guy.
He was probably new here, still disoriented, careless and confused. Recklessness in Hell wasn’t accepted, it was a death sentence.
Though they couldn’t really die.
Angel shook his head.
None of it was his problem.
His mind had no space for an idiot owl sinner finally learning how merciless and horrible Hell could be.
He had his own shit to worry about, his own survival to secure.
The wolf grabbed both of the other man’s wrists, clamping them tightly in one of his hands and-
«Hey!» Angel barked, approaching them at a slow pace. «Leave him alone.»
«And why the fuck would I do that?» the hellhound asked, not even sparing him a glance. «So that you can have him all for yourself? I don’t think-»
Angel huffed, rolling his eyes.
He was getting tired of this shit.
«Maybe. Or maybe so that I won’t have to shoot ya one right between your eyes. That reason enough?» he said, letting out one of his arms and pointing the rifle’s barrel right in front of the asshole’s nose.
The hellhound finally turned around, gracing him with his attention, eyeing him up and down with confusion… then recognition.
Ugh, great.
The one time he would’ve liked everyone to just forget about him.
A grin spread across the asshole’s muzzle as he slammed his elbow against the rifle, making it slide across the floor with a kick of his foot.
In one swift motion, he clamped down the spider’s wrist in his other hand, nails digging in his skin.
«Who’s playing dirty now, huh?»
Angel rolled his eyes and shrugged, three hands free as he fished for his phone, buried safely inside his chest fluff.
He lifted it above the wolf’s head, angling it to catch a glimpse of his own reflection on the screen.
Fingers tangled in his hair, smoothing it as he studied his face.
Ugh, his make up was ruined.
He used his thumb to blend the melted mascara beneath his eyes, transforming the streaks into wings. He did the same on the other side.
Better. But his dry lips could really use a touch of color.
Maybe some lipstick would help.
«Hey… listen, uh-» he froze mid-sentence, realizing at that moment that he didn’t even know the dude’s name. «Ya got some lipstick?»
The answer was just an uncomfortable silence.
At that, Angel finally tilted his phone, making sure the screen reflected the owl’s face, his mismatched eyes meeting the guy’s stunned gaze.
Something cracked inside him, and he swallowed a laugh, the first one in entire weeks of agony.
«What am I talking about…you have a beak!» he added quickly, amusement filling his voice. «Some chapstick maybe?»
The owl demon looked at him as if he were completely out of his mind. Which, granted. He definitely was.
But they were in Hell, what’s new?
«I said-» the hellhound growled again, and Angel rolled his eyes, having almost forgotten for a moment that this idiot was still holding him captive. Or well… trying to.
«Who’s playing dirty now?» he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
The spider sinner batted his eyelashes, an innocent look on his face.
«Guess ya caught me, daddy…» he drawled in a flirty voice. «Whatever will I do with…»
His sixth arm came out, holding his other rifle.
«This one?» he winked before shooting a bullet right through his calf.
The hellhound immediately released them, collapsing onto his knees and clutching his leg with a whine. Angel laughed at the demon twisting and writhing at his feet.
Fuck Vox, this was good entertainment.
A small pool of black blood crept across the floor, reaching the tip of his white heel.
He scoffed in irritation.
Whatever. Fuck it.
His outfit was already ruined anyway, might as well enjoy the day a little before returning to his eternal life of flames and torment… also known as Valentino.
He stepped fully into the blood, his dress hiking up his leg. The wide slit teasing a glimpse of his hip.
The owl demon gasped, quickly twisting his face away. He shut his upper set of eyes and pressed one hand over the lower one, as if that could save him from the menacing sight.
Ha! Prude.
«Ya wanna do it?» the spider asked, lips curling into a predatory grin, foot still frozen above the man’s hips.
«W-what?» the owl stammered, one top eye cracking open, darting nervously between Angel’s heel and his face, careful to skip the entire length of his leg.
Angel chuckled and slammed his heel down on the man’s dick, watching him as he released a strangled cry of pain, echoing off the streets.
«Teach him a lesson.» Angel said casually, as if this was nothing more than one of his daily activities.
He pressed his heel deeper, savoring the way the hellhound flinched because of the pain.
«Here. Give this a try.» he said, finally lifting his foot, a smile plastered on his face.
The bloody footprint seeped through the fabric of the man’s pants… and hopefully his dick.
«Gladly.» the demon said, interrupting his thoughts. A faint, sharp smile tugged at his beak as he stepped closer to them.
The owl grinned, turning his whole body in one single motion, his leg shot back with lethal precision as it shot forward.
When his talons got in contact with the man’s back, his body was sent flying across the street, shattering a shop window in its path.
A speed camera flashed, capturing the bleeding body in all its glory.
Well, shit.
What wouldn’t he give to have that image framed above his bed… now that would be one thing to live for.
The owl scoffed, irritation radiating from his face in the way both of his left eyes, and beak, twitched. His hands trembled, filled with adrenaline.
Angel whistled, genuinely impressed, eyes still locked on the crumpled figure sprawled across the asphalt. «No offense. But I thought you’d just give him a little kick or somethin’. Where’d ya learn to hit like that?»
The owl faltered as his nerves settled, suddenly self-conscious about his actions.
His gaze dropped to the ground, settling on the abandoned cup of coffee at his feet, as if it held the answers to all his questions.
«My…uh…» he began, hesitantly fidgeting with his talons. «My friend. He gives me self-defense lessons… from time to time.»
Angel’s knowing grin widened, one eyebrow lifting at the sight of a small blush on the other’s cheeks.
So he wasn’t new here.
That was surprising, especially given how utterly naive he’d seemed just mere minutes ago.
If it hadn’t been for that merciless kick, which had been more than deserved, Angel could’ve sworn the sinner belonged in Heaven.
But Hell had a way of twisting even the innocent, people ended up here for the dumbest reasons anyway.
He probably was one of those lazy motherfuckers.
Or one of the horny ones, now that could be fun.
Yet, judging by the way he’d stiffened at the barest flash of Angel’s thigh, currently anything but attractive, probably not.
But you never know.
«Well… ask your friend to give me some lessons too then. He’s a fucking pro.» he said, testing the waters.
This time the owl flushed black, eyes glued to the abandoned cup on the sidewalk.
Yeah, right. ‘Friend’ my ass.
Angel huffed, the murmur of multiple voices approaching from down the street.
He dragged the sole of his heel across the ground, smearing the black blood onto the concrete.
The sinner glanced back at the owl, too busy looking around himself to notice his stare, possibly worried that another enemy could appear at any moment as he studied his possible ways out.
This dude was fun.
He could spare him a few more minutes. It wasn’t like he had anything urgent to do… aside from heading back to Vee Tower, where Val would be waiting for him, ready to scream at him and rough him up for failing to land any new clients.
If he got lucky, that was.
Furthermore, this guy seemed so fixated on that goddamn spilled cup of coffee that it made the spider crave a cherry slush.
Might as well enjoy some company on the way.
«C’mon.» he muttered, bumping his shoulder with the other’s arm. «Let’s go get your coffee before more assholes show up. I don’t know about you… but I’ve had enough dicks for today… literally.» he said as he started to walk away, the action punctuated by the sound of his heels clicking against the sidewalk.
«Why did you help me?» the man suddenly asked and Angel stopped dead in his tracks.
«What do you mean why-»
Wait.
Why did he help him?
Well… because it felt like the right thing to do.
Shit, maybe Charlie had really played her magic tricks on his soul.
The old Angel would’ve left him to his fate without even daring to look back.
But he wasn’t his old self… not anymore.
«I guess I…» he started, hugging himself in an attempt to shield his skin from the cold. «I just hate that superiority complex bullshit. We’re both in Hell, snookums. You fell, I fell. We all did. Like two peas in a pod, you know?»
The owl nodded meekily, his head turned down as he stood unmoving on his feet.
«People here don’t do things unless they expect something in return.» the other said, stating the words clearly, like a memorized line.
Angel chuckled, trying hard not to make fun of the guy. «What? Did your friend teach you that too? We may be in Hell, but we were all people once. Some of us ain’t that bad, you know?»
The world seemed to come to a halt as the taller man got lost in thoughts, considering his choices and where his trust resided.
«Look, I’m not forcing you to come with me.» he stated, feeling as if that dude needed an explanation to get the concept of someone not wanting to take advantage of him through his thick skull.
And… who was he to talk, really?
If it was some reassurance he needed, then that’s what he would get.
«I’m gonna go buy a slushie and I wouldn’t mind some company, but if you’d rather stay here and freeze your ass to death, you’re also free to do that. I couldn’t give less of a shit.»
Nailed it.
But the man didn’t even react to his words…
Angel groaned as he turned around and got back to walking.
He could feel the damp fabric of his dress cling heavily to his body, the corsage hung dangerously low and every step reminded him of the blisters that were most probably burning beneath his feet from hours of marching to get there.
Val had even refused to call him a taxi, like he usually did, because: ‘Losing some weight will do you some good, amorcito. You gained a few pounds at that shitty hotel, your image needs to be preserved, baby.’
That fucking prick.
Quick footsteps approached from behind him.
Huh.
It wasn’t that difficult, was it?
«So…» Angel began, leaning slightly forward, as a way to try and snag his attention. «What’s your deal?»
The owl froze, eyes widening in surprise.
Maybe he didn’t like talking about his past.
But in all the decades Angel had spent in Hell he’d never come across an owl sinner.
Novelty in Hell was a rare luxury.
«Why do you ask?» the demon replied, after a few seconds of silence, turning his head to meet Angel’s gaze.
«Hey! I don’t mean to pry… just… wonderin’. Never seen an owl sinner before.»
The demon laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. «You truly don’t know who I am?»
Angel bit his lip, trying to focus on all the people he knew.
He did fuck most of them, after all.
Pretty sure he’d never been with an owl demon before, though.
Was he famous during his life? Maybe that’s where he was supposed to know him from? Cocky bitch.
«That asshole called you some fancy name. Were ya a royal or somethin’?»
«Or something.» he simply answered, kicking a rock in his path. «I would rather not talk about it, if that’s amenable to you…»
Angel sighed, so he was fancy.
He’d never heard someone use the word ‘amenable’ in a real conversation before.
«Got it. You ain’t much of a talker, huh? Well, I can talk enough for the both of us.» Angel ranted, straightening down the folds of his dress, already hiking up from the short walk. «Though you probably know that already.»
The man’s gaze scanned him up and down, confusion flickering in his eyes. The four of them. «Should I?»
Angel stopped dead in his tracks, staring at him with wide eyes and a shocked expression on his face.
«You… haven’t seen me before?»
The owl shook his head.
It was Angel’s incredulous laughter bursting out this time around, twisting his guts until they hurt.
«Fuck, you really need to watch some quality tv.» he said, struggling to breathe as he fell into step again. «What do you usually watch? Bet you’re all about that Hell-a-Novela bullshit.»
Stolas gasped theatrically, stiffening as if Angel had just personally insulted his entire lineage.
Clutching imaginary pearls above his chest, he surged forward, jabbing a finger at Angel’s chest.
«Don’t you dare. Hell-a-Novela is quality tv. And you really need to watch some news once in a while! It would not hurt for you to be aware of Hell’s latest scandals.»
«Ha! Sounds more like gossip to me but nah. M’not into politics.» Angel shrugged, smirking, eyes flicking to the side at the flickering neon sign above the coffee shop. «Name’s Angel, by the way.»
For a moment, the owl’s harsh expression cracked as a genuine smile escaped him. «Stolas.»
Angel nodded, turning the corner and pushing open the door with two of his hands.
He waited patiently for Stolas to step inside first, the dim, artificial lights casting shadows across his feathers.
«C’mon.» Angel said with a grin. «Let’s go get our fucking drinks.»
«Wait, wait. He kissed her brother… during his fucking wedding?» Angel’s voice tore through the silence, gaining a few irritated glances from some sinners walking by. His slushie had long since melted, pooling forgotten in the cup between his crossed legs. «Damn. Alejandro’s a real piece of shit.»
Stolas’ beak curved in a slow, amused smile. «He is… complicated. He is very tormented by his childhood and…»
Angel’s laugh turned bitter. «Tormented, huh? I’m tormented too but you don’t see me making moves on my sister’s husband!» he said, cracking his knuckles against his knees. «Sometimes people are just assholes. There’s no reason to look for the good in them.»
«Didn’t you just say that not everyone is bad?» Stolas called him out, a fist stuck under his cheek.
Well, fuck. Sharp as a blade.
«Sure. Not everyone is a piece of shit. But, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, Alejandro is nowhere near that list.»
«I think we can all change…» Stolas murmured, tilting his head as the cup of tea trembled in his grasp, his fingers inadvertently shivering from the cold. «We all did things we are not proud of…»
A comfortable silence stretched between them, dancing between their bodies.
They sat on the cracked pavement outside the coffee shop, their clothes dirtied, Angel’s dress shredded and damp in street rain. His face was tired and swollen, yet none of it seemed to matter.
For the first time in forever, Angel didn’t feel the need to perform gnawing at his bones, didn't need his mask to cover his real self.
Here, in the flickering glow of street lights and neon signs, he was just Angel.
And for once, that felt like enough.
«You know…» Angel began, twisting his body to face the other demon. «I really had a sister… back when I was alive. She was real sweet.»
Stolas’ smile was small, his eyes relaxing with something between apprehension and invitation.
He let Angel continue, giving him his full attention.
«I haven’t seen her since I… got down here.»
«What happened?» Stolas asked, tilting his head even further to look at him in the eyes. «If you don’t mind me asking, of course. I understand if-»
«Relax. It’s fine.» he answered with a smile, interrupting his worried rant. «Same shit that happens to everybody, I guess. Bad people lead to bad situations that lead to bad decisions and…»
Stolas stared at him with wide, blinking eyes.
«Overdose.» he clarified.
«Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.»
«Nah, it’s fine. I’m here now, ain’t I?»
And he really didn’t feel like opening that can of worms right now.
«You know, I figured that maybe I’d run into her eventually.» Angel said with a shrug, voice rough at the edges. «See a familiar face, once in a while. Must be nice. Surely better than staring at all these ugly motherfuckers all the damn time.»
The owl chuckled softly, eyes glinting with delight. Angel’s fingers fiddled with the lid of his cup, twisting it nervously.
«But I never found her.» he admitted, voice edged with guilt. «And now… I just feel like a complete asshole for ever hoping she’d end up here in the first place.»
«You are not an asshole for wanting someone by your side, Angel.» Stolas stated. «If that makes you one… then I suppose I am too.»
Angel scoffed, squaring him up and down. «If you’re an asshole… then I don’t even know who the fuck I am.»
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. It was heavy, a sense of loneliness, under the glow of the coffee shop's neon sign.
«Feeling lost… is an essential part of healing. It means you have to find yourself again, it gives you something to live for.» Stolas said softly, his voice just above a whisper.
Angel sniffled, struggling to keep his tears at bay.
What the fuck did they put in his slushie?
«W-what?»
«My friend once told me that.» Stolas continued, his gaze distant. «Back when I… felt like the worst demon alive. Perhaps I am. Sometimes I still believe that I do not deserve any of… this.» he gestured to himself, arms wide, as if encompassing the fragile chaos of his life.
«But he believes I do. He’s always in my corner… and that is enough for me to keep fighting.»
Angel nodded slowly, keeping his gaze fixated on the pavement beneath his heels, though the words seemed to settle somewhere deep within his chest.
Drowning in scotch and cigarettes.
«Do you… have someone in your corner as well?» Stolas asked uncertainly, afraid he’d break him apart just by using the wrong words.
As if Angel could be torn apart more than he already was…
Though he paused, letting the question sink in between slow, deep breaths.
Did anyone truly care about him enough to want him to stay?
Images of his last goodbye to Cherri and Husk flashed in front of him, memories of loss and regret.
The faces of those he had cared about, the ones he had voluntarily pushed away, in an attempt to shield them from… himself.
Protecting them had cost him everything, leaving him alone, a lonely soul lost in the shadows of his own decisions.
The emptiness of that corner pressed in on him, and he felt it, not just the absence, but also the weight of what he had lost. Of what he once had.
«I…»
Angel… please don’t.
«I don’t…»
Please I… come back…
«I don’t have a fucking choice.» he sighed.
And then, Stolas laughed.
The sound pierced through Angel’s chest like a blade, a hot twist of disappointment seeping through his bones, bringing his heart to a halt.
Of course he’d laugh, of course he'd make fun of that terrible feeling inside his soul.
Angel could almost feel it. A not physical kind of pain, hurting more than the torture Valentino had inflicted upon him just a few hours ago.
Cuts and bruises far away from his mind as his soul tried to cradle the last pieces of his wrecked heart, if he ever had one to begin with.
He had been an idiot. For trusting someone he’d just met this much.
What was he even thinking?
Revealing parts of his life he hadn’t even thought about in years to this fucking stranger.
He believed to have felt something, a platonic connection in the silence between them, a sense that maybe someone would truly understand him.
What a fucking idiot.
He was just an asshole, like all the rest of ‘em.
The sinner spread his fingers on the sidewalk, pressing his hands steadily against the ground to use them as leverage.
Everything started spinning as he felt his arms crumble like chalk.
Angel’s legs, still braced on his heels, burned painfully from the effort of trying to keep himself up on his feet.
His thighs ached, skin pulsing from all the cuts and bruises hidden under his dress, muscles screaming for release.
In a desperate attempt to move, he pushed even harder, but the pain was too much.
His balance faltered and with a sharp exhale, he lost all his strength, landing hard on his ass.
Fuck off.
The words hung in the air as he tried to make sense of the mess surrounding him, of all the colors circling around him like a carousel.
And suddenly, he felt it, hesitant fingers resting briefly on his left shoulder.
The unexpected touch sent a blinding shock through his body, cold seeping through his skin.
His heart stuttered, a violent rhythm pounding in his ears, too fast for the moment to make sense.
His brain turned fuzzy as he started trembling.
Happy thoughts. Happy-
Every time he blinked, the fur of Val’s coat, resting on the asphalt in front of him, would become clearer, his tall shadow getting closer and closer.
His breaths became ragged as he hugged himself even tighter, bracing for impact.
His eyes squeezed shut, unwilling to face it.
The hand immediately retracted with a gasp.
Angel’s head tilted to the side, ready for that same limb to strike him across the face. Or maybe grab his hair and drag him all over the studio’s floor, throwing him around like a doll. Knowing that it would soon wrap around his neck as the others shredded his clothes off to-
«I am so sorry. Are you feeling okay?» Stolas’ voice broke through the air, laced with concern.
His hand hovered just above the sinner’s fur, as though afraid to cross that line again.
The spider’s eyes suddenly cleared, bringing him back to that moment…in that same place.
Val isn’t here.
You’re fine.
Stop being a fucking pussy.
«’m fine.» Angel stated. Words gritted through clenched teeth as he remembered what had just happened.
He didn’t need the pity of another idiot who pretended to care about his issues just to get in his pants.
He already had enough of them.
They were in Hell, everyone had shit to deal with and therapists were only around to remind you of how disgusting you were and all the different ways you should kill yourself.
He already had Val for that.
Stolas nodded.
Nothing was left now but that uncomfortable tension between the two, a huge contrast to the quiet ease they had shared just minutes ago. That moment that had felt like real understanding now turned into smoke as it slipped away.
«I believed so too…» Stolas’ soothing voice cut through his thoughts.
Angel drew in a ragged breath, lungs burning as he tried to steady himself.
«What?»
«That I… did not have a choice, I mean.» the owl said, his words slow and careful. «But-»
Angel rolled his eyes, irritation flaring like hellfire in his chest. A need to release the tension coiled in his muscles, to lash out at someone, anyone, to calm the storm inside him. He just needed someone to feel what he was going through.
To suffer the same way he had during his life and death.
Then he would be the one to laugh at their pain.
«Let me guess.» Angel spat, not even trying to hide annoyance. «Your friend gave you one.»
Stolas nodded, seemingly blind to the fury radiating from the other demon. «I suppose… it was more of a mutual thing.» he chuckled.
Angel’s chest tightened.
He longed to yell, to shove Stolas around, to drag him through the mud for making him face a sin he hadn’t dared to feel in years.
Envy.
A raw, burning jealousy that twisted him from the inside.
«Yeah, yeah. You have the perfect life.» he groaned, heel tapping nervously on the road in front of them. «I fucking get it.»
«Oh, far from it. Really.» Stolas said quietly. «My life has been… nowhere near perfect; for many years I thought it would be my destiny… I just had to diligently follow the path the stars had paved for me and everything would be okay.»
Angel’s jaw tightened, his soul weighing down his chest at that familiar feeling.
«After more than thirty years, and an old friend finding his way back into my life, I was finally able to realize that one should not live by following other people’s demands. That I could choose for myself… and look where that got me.» he added with a chuckle, widening his arms again to indicate the Hell surrounding them. «But I still don’t regret it. If given the choice I would do it… all over again. I definitely would try and change some of those outcomes but… I have learned not to regret my decisions.»
This carved a deeper void inside him, a reminder that, even in his imperfect life, Stolas had someone.
And he… he had nothing.
For a heartbeat, Angel wished he could scream, punch and cry all at once, but instead, he swallowed the bile rising in his throat, letting the bitterness settle like ashes in his throat.
«It took me a lot of time and… help, to accept that… but I am trying to be better. I’m still working on letting go of that guilty feeling but… I’m trying. Meeting the right people makes it bearable, most of the time.»
The cruelest part of it all was that Angel had finally met the right people.
He had found friends, someone to lean on during a drink, to share words with when his world was burning down around him.
He had never had a family, not even before he died.
That house, filled with hatred and abuse, had never been a home.
But there, with those people, he had found one.
Friends who made life bearable, who held space for him when the darkness pressed too close.
People who believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself.
They had made mistakes, sure, but who hadn’t?
Angel knew that better than anyone.
A cloud of smoke drifted across his vision, he followed it with his eyes, looking for the source, a cigarette dangling from his companion’s talons.
Without thinking, he took it, drawing a long breath into his lungs, tasting the familiar taste of ashes against his tongue.
«It’s not that easy.» Angel said in an exhale. «But we suffer through it. That’s what we do.» He passed the cigarette back. «What we need to do.»
«Exactly.» came the quiet confirmation.
For a moment, they just sat there, smoke curling between them, a shared silence holding more weight than words ever could.
It was imperfect and messy but it was enough.
Just two people who lived through Hell and back enjoying each other’s presence, there was nothing easier than that.
Maybe that’s why talking to the owl felt different, almost like they were the same person.
«So…» he started again, breathing the smoke back into his mouth. «Are you stuck in a contract too or…»
«Oh, no. One could describe it as… a family issue, I suppose.»
«Ha! Don’t I know about them. Daddy issues are my speciality.» he said, uncrossing his legs. «Controlling bitch?»
Stolas chuckled, tapping one of his talons against his cup.
«Definitely. My father is probably the epitome of that ‘superiority complex’ you were referring to earlier...»
«Damn, sounds like a piece of shit.»
«More than Alejandro?» Stolas snickered, brushing his knees with his hands.
«Definitely more than Alejandro.» he laughed, combing his hair with two of his hands.
Angel exhaled the last breath of smoke, letting it curl through the night air before putting the cigarette off on the pavement next to him.
He stretched his back before he decided to test his legs again.
«Let’s go…» he muttered, as he tried to raise his body from the ground. «It’s getting late, wouldn’t want your beau to lose sleep wondering if you’re dead in a ditch or somethin’.»
Stolas chuckled, rising to his talons with effortless grace.
He turned towards him, immediately noticing his struggles, and offered him a hand to grab on to, if he needed to.
Angel grasped it without hesitation, letting himself be pulled upright.
«My friend has a crystal he can use to bring you home through a portal, if you’d be willing to walk a few blocks with me to the apartment.» he offered, making sure the sinner was steady on his feet.
And fuck, if teleporting right into his room didn’t sound tempting right now.
His legs yelled in pain and the choice was made.
«Is your friend God? Cause I really wanna meet him. Lead the way, snuckums.» Angel said with enthusiasm, falling into step beside him as Stolas stared at him with a suspicious glare. «What? I’m just curious to meet the guy you had oh, so many nice things to say about. His dick’s big or what?»
Stolas’ cheeks flushed black, the blush somehow making his way between his feathers. «I was only supposed to run out for a coffee…» he said, changing the topic.
Damn, his dick must be huge.
He was kinda jealous.
He let another small pang of envy slip through again, though not as much as before, the wish to feel something so simple, so human.
True love in Hell was hard to find, and thinking he deserved it… had been his greatest mistake.
Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts.
«Oh shit.» Angel said, kicking a loose pebble. «Must’ve sent an entire search squad to look for you by now.»
«Hey!» Stolas scolded him, bumping his shoulder with his elbow. «He’s not that paranoid.»
«Right. And pigs can fly.»
«Oh, fuck you.»
For a moment, Angel let himself linger in the simplicity of it, the banter, the easy companionship, the fragile sense that maybe something normal could exist, even in Hell.
Even for a sinner like him.
It had been weeks since he’d felt something like this.
It was easy to forget sometimes, how unexpected a life of eternal damnation could be.
One day you’re a sinner minding your own business, having fun with your friends and sniffing some coke, and the next you’re stuck in a soul-binding contract for the rest of your after-life.
Talk about a plot twist.
Stolas turned his key in the lock and the door to his apartment building swung open, he gestured for Angel to step in first.
The spider looked around the entrance, eyes scanning the cracked walls and the dark corners covered in mold.
«This… ain’t fancy.» Angel acknowledged, his voice filled with pouty disappointment. «I thought you were fancy.»
Stolas laughed and the sound echoed lightly in the empty hallway. «I was fancy. Unfortunately, that is not the case anymore.»
They stepped into the elevator, arms brushing against each other as they moved. «Well shucks… there go my chances at havin’ a sugar daddy.»
Stolas rolled his eyes, pressing the button to the fourth floor. The gears creaked loudly above their heads and Angel’s mind filled with worry.
«Are you sure this thing is… safe? And not elevating us to our deaths?»
«As safe as Blitzø, somehow, fitting an entire mattress and five people in it, me included.» he reassured him with a smile on his face.
«Who the fuck is Blitz?»
«Oh! He’s uh… my friend. The ‘o’ is silent.»
Angel’s brain froze as he acknowledged the owl’s words, repeating the name multiple times in his mind. «What ‘o’? There is no fucking ‘o’ in Blitz.»
Stolas laughed, shaking his head as loud hoots left his beak.
Maybe it was an inside joke between the two of them? Who the fuck knew at this point.
«Let me grab some money to offer you that slushie at least, as a ‘thank you’ for helping me.» he said, once his laughs had subdued, giving Angel the most exaggerated owl eyes he had ever seen in his life and death.
But, then again, he had never seen an owl before so that made sense.
«No need to thank me.» Angel said, shrugging. «It was the right thing to do.»
«Perhaps it was…» Stolas murmured, his eyes lighting up. «But not many people would have done that. You know what that makes you?»
«Don’t say it.»
«A good person.» he stated, his words carrying their weight even as the elevator chimed and its doors slid open.
For a heartbeat, Angel let the words linger between them and… maybe Charlie was right.
Somewhere in between checking in the Hazbin Hotel to avoid paying his rent, and checking out of it to keep his friends safe, he had really changed for the better.
Even if just a small step towards redemption had been made, it was still an improvement.
Addict trash like you doesn’t change.
Val’s voice echoed through his mind like a mantra, one he had always believed in for so long but maybe… he didn’t have to anymore.
Angel hugged himself, the realization settling deep within his soul. «Just let your friend use his fuckin’ jewel-»
«Crystal.» Stolas corrected him.
«Crystal, whatever.» Angel repeated, waving a dismissive hand at the owl. «Just teleport me back into my room and we’ll call it even, alright?»
The spider saw Stolas nod, then abruptly freeze in front of a wooden door.
From within the apartment came loud voices and crashing noises, words tumbling over one another like a screaming match.
«Oh, dear...» Stolas whispered, tilting his head to the side as he tried to make sense of the few sentences that reached them through the door.
Angel smirked, folding four arms across his chest. «Not that paranoid, huh?»
«He’s… still working on it.» Stolas replied with hesitation.
He lingered there a moment longer, clearly summoning the courage to face the cataclysm waiting for him on the other side.
At last, he inserted the key in the hole and turned it one time.
The noise inside cut off instantly.
Everything stopped.
«Maybe he’s-» Angel began, cut off by the sudden sound of hurried footsteps and… a couch falling?
The door swung open urgently, causing a loud thump as it hit the inside of the wall, the keys rattling.
A tall imp filled the doorway, eyes snapping to Stolas, pupils running from one limb to another as if to make sure he was all in one piece.
A smaller imp cautiously peeked out from behind him.
«I told you, Blitzø. He’s fine, he was just- wait. Where’s my neapolitan cappuccino with-»
«Shut the fuck up, Moxxie!» Blitzø yelled, launching himself onto Stolas and climbing his body like a tree.
Angel was fairly certain he saw his eyes start to water.
The smaller one rolled his eyes, retreating back into the apartment with an exasperated huff.
Blitzø cupped Stolas’ face in his hands, thumbs brushing sweetly across his cheeks. His eyes widened when he noticed the bruise marring the owl’s left cheekbone.
«Who did this to you.» he growled, teeth bared in fury. «I will fucking kill them, I-»
«It’s fine, Blitzø.» Stolas murmured in an attempt to placate the other man, who was already checking how many bullets were loaded in his gun.
Angel looked away.
Pft. Friend. Right.
«It’s not fucking fine!» the imp yelled, brows knitting in frustration as he lowered his gun. «You were hurt, and I… I wasn’t there to kill the fucker! I swore I’d always protect you.»
«I don’t need you to protect me all the time. I can take care of myself.» Stolas replied, his talons playing with the spikes on the other man’s back in an attempt to soothe him.
And it seemed to be working great, considering the way the imp’s eyelids fluttered at the feeling, Angel tried to hold in a laugh when his body started producing a purr.
«I know you can. I just… care about you, Stols. A lot. And I can’t keep watching you get hurt while I’m miles away.»
«Oh well, miles might be a bit of an exaggeration this time. I was just two blocks from the office after all!»
Damn, that was… undeniably adorable.
The two of them locked eyes and Angel thought that it might be the perfect time to intervene before he’d have to witness an impromptu make out sesh.
«Uhm, hello? Sorry to interrupt your reunion or… whatever this is… but yeah, still here.» he said, waving his hands to catch their attention, successfully breaking whatever spell was tying their eyes together.
Stolas’ eyes widened as Blitzø’s mouth fell open in recognition.
Oh.
So the imp knew him.
This was gonna be fun.
«Oh! Blitzø, this is Angel. He… shot the guy who bothered me.» Stolas said, a hint of pride in his tone.
Blitzø looked at him up and down, probably trying to fully comprehend why a famous porn star was casually hanging out with his boyfriend, behind his own front door.
«Right, yeah. Nice to meet you uh… Angel. Stolas, should I be worried?»
The owl looked at him with a confused expression, tilting his head to the side and Angel couldn’t control his laughter any longer, the sound of his voice echoed loudly in the hall as he clutched his stomach, struggling to breathe.
«Nah, it’s fine. Just needed a lift to Vee Tower and Stolas said you could…» his words faltered with a gasp, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. «…give me a hand with that.»
The imp’s gaze hardened, cutting through the room like a blade.
«I thought you could use the crystal to take him home?» Stolas asked hopefully as he played with his back spikes.
Blitzø’s eyes immediately softened at the sound of his voice, a flicker of vulnerability betraying him.
Well… What a fucking simp.
«Sure, Stols.» he said, glancing up at the owl with a gaze that seemed to hold entire galaxies, hearts and devotion trapped in black pupils. Then he turned to face Angel, that sweet expression immediately falling in simple neutrality. «Thank you for… keeping him safe.»
The loyal care between the two was almost unbearable, fragile souls clinging to one another to survive in this unfair Hell.
Just like him and…
«It’s fine.» Angel whispered quietly, cutting through his thoughts. «He really likes you. You’re lucky.»
Blitzø’s claws traced lightly along the crystal, leaving faint sparks of light in its wake. A black blush creeped on his face.
«I know…» he murmured back, the ghost of a smile brushing his lips.
A portal shimmered open before him, the warped reflection of a pink and white room bending like a dream, or a nightmare. Shadows licked at the edges, curling and stretching as if alive.
He turned his head, quickly glancing at the way Stolas’ leg was being playfully punched by another imp, a woman; a hellhound got out the door, chuckling as she nodded at him in greeting. The smaller imp was theatrically brushing a hand down his face in desperation as Stolas apologized for forgetting about his cappuccino.
Their banter felt… familiar.
Something broke inside him as he tried to hold back tears.
«Thank you, I-»
«No, thank you.» Stolas interrupted him, freeing his leg from the woman’s grasp and marching towards them.
Angel turned again, his eyes watering.
He spared Stolas a grateful look as a small nod passed between them, silent and full of unspoken words.
He bent down to step through the portal.
«And Angel…» Stolas called out, voice lingering in the air like a final echo. «I’ll be in your corner.»
Angel’s lips spoke in a whisper, almost too soft to hear. «Thank you.»
The portal swallowed him and immediately shut close behind him, leaving only the faintest echo of swirls and magic as the shadows seemed to pulse in quiet approval.
The tower’s air pressed down on him, its walls heavy with sorrow, mournful as if the room itself held every grief he ever suffered through under its care.
He closed his eyes, trying to hold back tears and suddenly the red couch of the hotel embraced him, an imaginary comfort.
The taste of Husk’s bitter Harder Daddies on his tongue.
Cherri’s words whispered like sweet jazz playing into his ears.
He was tired.
So painfully, achingly tired.
He just wanted to disappear.
To fall into a never ending sleep and find himself cradled by the family he wished he’d never left, surrounded by voices that made his life bearable.
His thoughts drifted back to Stolas and his lover.
Angel knew that love in Hell could exist and in the past he had hoped he might find it too. For a while he thought he’d found it, before every red, hot lie fell down, tearing his heart apart.
But he still believed in it, despite it all.
Maybe one day he would find it too.
The memories hit him like a wave.
Husk’s gentle hands on his shoulders as he wrapped him in a warm blanket, every fleeting touch whenever he drifted off at the bar.
The way Husk’s eyes had lingered on him during his performance, the kind of gaze that burned his soul while leaving it raw.
Their hands, tangled as they danced their tragedies away, losers together yet somehow whole.
Angel jolted awake, a gasp ripping through his throat, heart hammering against his chest.
Shit.
This was torture. That’s all it was.
Vox’s mind control, he told himself, clinging to what was left of reason in his tired mind.
Yes, that’s what it must be.
There was no way he-
He exhaled, a hand brushing over his face, muscles softening with relief as he grabbed the tv remote, trying to keep his mind at bay.
The screen flickered to life, its blue glow cutting through the shadows of the room, granting it an ethereal light.
Maybe some distraction could make sleep come back to him.
Satan knew he needed it.
A scream shattered the quiet: «How could you do this to me, Alejandro?!»
Angel’s eyes snapped open, focusing on the screen.
Stolas’ shitty soap opera was spilling loudly from the speakers.
A laugh escaped him, before sinking back into the couch, leaving a damp spot right below his ass.
He really had to throw that fucking dress away.
Still… maybe he could endure it.
Maybe he could finally see what the owl saw in this crap, if only this once.
He exhaled, feeling all the tension leave his shoulders.
Sure, he couldn’t undo the past.
He couldn’t erase every scar or every night spent shivering in solitude.
But he could let himself rest, could afford to let others in for a change.
To let himself hope for a better fate.
The tv murmured stupid lines about cheating and siblings for hours…did this show have one fucking arc that didn’t revolve around that?
Angel tilted his head, letting it rest on the couch, a faint smile crossing his lips as the clock ticked midnight.
He curled his body over the sofa, hugging one knee to his chest, the world fading outside.
The tower, the noise, the pain… they could all wait.
The sinner closed his eyes and let himself rest.
Feeling the laughs of his friends around him, the weight of Fat Nuggets on his lap, Husk’s gentle claws combing through his hair.
Maybe he couldn’t have all that, but he could always dream.
Think back to the place where he always felt safe.
The place where he belonged in the company of those who had cared enough to stay.
People who would always be in his corner, even if far away.
Angel closed his eyes again.
The exhaustion was still there, but it no longer pressed down on him like a tombstone.
Instead, it felt… almost bearable.
The darkness was still enveloping him, but no longer threatening.
His phone tinged, the screen lightning up the dust floating above it.
@blitzorodeo: Hello! I’m Stolas.
@blitzorodeo: Blitzø showed me your account, I hope you don’t mind. I was wondering if you would like to take another coffee together some time? Maybe on Friday? Of course you don’t have to accept, I’m sorry if my request may look inappropriate, I swear that it is not my intention in the slightest. I hope you have a great night.
Angel snickered, grabbing his phone and laughing at the stupid name. That’s where the ‘o’ was, then.
Why Stolas decided to text him from the imp’s account was a mystery.
He didn’t know what was funnier, imagining the imp showing his boyfriend Angel’s sinstagram account while admitting that he actually knew who he was, the overthought paragraph or the fact that none of them had even ordered a coffee in the first place.
@angie_fluffy_bootz: sure ;)
@angie_fluffy_bootz: don’t have a personal acc???
The sinner briefly glanced at the tv screen, noticing the way Gabriella was getting thoroughly fucked by Alejandro.
At least he was a service top.
Angel still hadn’t forgiven him for kissing her brother, though.
No matter how hot he might be or how many cocks and clits he’d be willing suck.
@blitzorodeo: I do, but I currently lack a phone and I cannot remember my credentials.
Angel chuckled.
The television screen closed up to the girl’s right eye, shining in a brighter red.
@angie_fluffy_bootz: what’s up with gabriella’s eye bs???
@blitzorodeo: She is not Gabriella! She’s her evil twin sister, Mariella.
@angie_fluffy_bootz: WHAT