Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

Door to the past

"And you were supposed to be mine." The cherub was plumb with composure, and that made his anger wax. "Is such a relationship, worth more than friendship that lasted a millennia?"

"A friendship like this?" The scorn of the brunet's laugh resonated across the gap. "You threatened him with powers that the Lord gave you to help!"

"Is he really worth your tongue?" Ezekiel circled his body, gold eyes dingy and lids heavy. "I did you a favour. A demon and an angel? It's unnatural."

Luka could no longer agnize him; his core was hazy like the coffee he always drank. Like the coffee they shared once.

"If you had just come with me...none of this would have happened."

"You are the worst," Luka snarled, not wanting to waste fuel to look at the man now in back of him.

Simple words that could sting. The albino supped a breath, observing his suited body as wings brought him through the pointed door and away—away from him, forever.

They hadn't spoken since. Even when Luka had sought a guardian angel to be assigned to the siblings, he beseeched Helena. Thus, Silas was on the white two-seater, squabbling with Sol, and derisively looking more like his older brother.

"You're alive?!"

"Luka!" The short girl chirped whilst dashing towards him feebly—seeming more happy to have an excuse to leave Silas, than to see the brunet. "I'm so glad you came."

"I couldn't miss your birthday..." The former colleagues went into an embrace, Silas sidling up to them.

"Finally you're here! I had to spend months in this shi- hellhole alone!"

"Hello to you too, Silas."

"No seriously! Humans use freaking toilets!"

"That-"

"Hey, Sunny!" The group of four turned simultaneously their heads to Victor, despite him calling out solely to his girlfriend. "Me and the demon are gonna' take his car for a spin. Want anything? Ice cream? Chocol-"

Sol lightly shoved the young virtue. "Take Silas with you! We wanna' have some girl talk."

"Huh?" The tall man took hold of Silas. "Wait! What about Luka-"

The door slammed shut, neglecting the rest of his cry. What a strange fate, for a man so outwardly rebellious.

"Is he seriously a prince?" she questioned, pushing her straggly black bangs away—as though they were ruffled by the blond.

"Surprisingly." Luka chuckled as the two women lead him to the couch—the bed still accompanying it. He dolefully heeded how the short one clung to his arm. Like leaves to branches and if a breeze were to greet, instantly would they fall. She had no visible scars, but who could have known of what she saw.

"How...are you two?" he finally asked after sitting down.

Marie smiled at him, following beside him. "We're getting better."

"If I had to complain though, I can hardly open jars anymore." Her face contorted with raving anguish. "Now, I'm just another guy-written character..."

The pair laughed at her absurdity before the brunet gazed upon Marie. "What about you?...Have the scars...healed?"

Ah, the scars—a name not so fitting but, what other name could you call it by?