Little Rose

~^~Chapter 1~^~

"I wasn't trying to hit you." I retort, standing up and brushing off my clothes.

"Perhaps you should have been. What's an angel like you doing out here at this hour?" An angel like me? He's one too, right? One's Destined can only be an angel. My head shoots up in confusion. Wrong. So very, very wrong.

Though I guess the devil was an angel once, so it makes sense -- dangerous sense, but sense.

"Of all the people..." I mutter to myself.

"You still haven't answered me Love." He steps closer, carefully. A predator, and for the second time in the span of a few minutes, I'm the prey. I can't decide what to do. Run away from the one person who perfectly completes me? Or stay and risk everything on him?

Only judge on what you know Rosette. Not stories, not reputation. Fact. Even then, be nice with it. You don't know everything.

I shake my mom's voice from my mind, trying to concentrate on my current dilemma. Her advice though, I think that over. I let out a sigh. It's not like I have much to risk anyways. I don't have to fall in love with him, I can do this cautiously. He could still help my situation as well.

"Running." My statement seems to surprise him, not that it shows for long. Did he not expect me to answer? He cocks a perfect eyebrow -- not that it would be anything but, he looks absolutely flawless from what I can see of him.

"Before you... encountered my men?" His men. Of course, he is the devil, ruling over the fallen is in the job description. And I didn't encounter them. They attacked me.

"Running." Again, this word is met with surprise, more thinly veiled this time around.

"What could you possibly be running from that isn't my men?" His curiosity peeps into his voice. I simply point up as a reply. He has the audacity to laugh. "Not perfect enough to keep those wings then?" He seems amused -- the laugh tells me that much -- but there seems to be something hidden a bit deeper that I can't quite pinpoint. Then his words sink in. Keep my wings. My wings.

"It's not- not like that-" I force out, trying not to break down. Why did he have to phrase it that way? My mother's face flashes in my mind. "Nonononononono" I barely register that I spoke out loud, clutching my head, eyes screwed shut, hopelessly attempting to block it out, to stop it. "Not now." My back hunches, my legs fail beneath me. Somehow, I don't hit the ground. "Please not now..." I desperately plead to myself, voice a whimper.

"Love?" His voice floats into my ear, a temporary reprieve. "What did I do wrong?" I just want him to keep talking.

"Please-" I manage, mind a raging storm. "Please keep- keep talking-" My tongue fumbles over the words, memories bombarding me full force now. "Your- your voice... Please..."

"There's no need to beg Love. I'd give you anything you ask for anyways." He murmurs into my ear, honey voice soft. The memories recede, become fainter, less harsh. "I don't suppose you'll be going back anytime soon." He muses. Even fainter. "Would you like to go home with me?" I weakly nod, thoughts calming enough to realize my head is tucked into his chest. "Did they do this? Up there?" My head bobs once more. "Mhm. Sounds like something they would do." The memories fade away.

"I'm- I'm good now."

"You're sure?"

"Angels don't lie." It's a fault of sorts. We find ourselves incapable of it. Half truths are somewhat feasible, sometimes. It's not certain, so most don't bother trying.

"Very true." I can almost hear his smile. "I'm still asking."

"Yes."

"What's the 'yes' for?" He adds an innocent tone to his voice. I nearly snort. We both know he's far from innocent.