Painful or pleasure, they're fighting with their head
"Everyone here is an idiot and I hate you all," you say calmly as you pass out the meals. These said meals often only come in bags or small trays depending on the person. Everybody gathers in the eating area, eating their food like wild animals. Like them, you are a child. But they aren't the child you think you are.
"Thank you, (Y/N)," Thomas says as you give him his tray. You can't say you love being in an orphanage, but you do what you need for the children. You have been here for thousands of years as you take care of the children. The adults always treat you bad, being scared of you and your unaging teenage form.
Blooming plenty, from here at hell's ending
If any curious child asks the nuns what you are, they would answer with a demon. It is actually the very opposite. You come from the shrine that was made up in one of the children's rooms, under their bunkbed. In the year of the 1700s, a child was forced in here by soldiers. They locked the room, saying to only unlock it if the boy removes himself from the otherworldly. He hid all of his candles under the bed, along with his stones and crystals. And that's where you hide. Nobody has ever found the shrine, and nobody ever will.
Every night the candles shine, but you make sure nobody sees them flicker.
Don't, oh no don't, oh please never ever pray to me
While you were passing out the food, you got a certain feeling in your chest. It made you recoil. You could hear the voice of somebody, a child. But of course, who's voice would it else be? In realization, you drop the food.
Kids ask you what's wrong while others scramble for their scraps. The nuns all look at each other, watching you freeze.
"What I want is... my brother back." The voice says. You act quickly, running towards their dorms. Your room, the one with the bullet hole on the outside. Room number 600. You put your hand on the door, looking through the bullet hole. There's a boy who's praying at the end of his bed. Does he even know your shrine was there? You quickly open the door. This is good, this means that nobody has found your shrine yet. You're safe. You enter the room, the boy looking up at you with bright, blue eyes. He's about your age, minus thousands of years. He's an early teen, maybe fourteen. Perhaps only days from being released to the war.
"Are you okay?" You ask. You look at his hollow cheeks, turning your head as you approach him. He stands up, looking at you with wide eyes. You stop walking. You go to ask him again, but he interrupts you.
"You're an angel?!" He says. It was more of a question than anything more. You know what the precautions are before you even realize what he said. Quickly, you close the door before covering the bullet hole with your hand. As you do, you realize that your skin has smoothed out and you're wearing layers of special rings. You run a hand through your hair, as soft as silk. God dammit.
Truth is I'm helpless and can't do a thing
The boy opened up your guardian form, showing him who you truly are. 'Only a mere teenage spirit with a motherly instinct to protect the young boys of the orphanage,' supposedly. But no, you just like hanging out with children now. It's not a special sort of feeling or instinct. It's just a habit now.
"You can't - god dammit - don't tell anyone," you command him.
"Will you make my wish come true?" He asked. You thought he would be more innocent. Even though he had bright eyes, everything about him was dark. He had dark hair that shaded over his forehead in an ominous way. His voice was mature, deep but demanding. He wasn't the boy you thought he was.
With only a charm faked for kid's fantasy
"No, I can't." You lie. Truth is, you do possess a power to grant wishes of children. But you made a promise to the nuns that you wouldn't let a child escape into the warfronts ever again. The boy tilts his head, a part of him not believing you.
"Okay," he lets out. And as quickly as he saw your guardian form, it disappeared into the light as you returned to your human state.
"I'm sorry," you admit. You can almost feel Satan's eyes on you as the boy glared into your soul.
"No, you're not," it hurt more than he thought it would. He reminded you of the person who first brought you here, the same attitude and dispels. But as he glared at you, you gave him a soft smile as you held out your hand. You felt on the verge of tears as memories poured into you about the good days with the child in this room that prayed to you last.
"Do you want to get some food?" You ask. He just walks past you, opening the door and walking out. You turn around and watch him walk out.
Can you forgive me? Can you forgive me?
I am to blame, yes for everything
The nuns kept their eyes on you when you walked past him. They figured something was up when you both walked out of the same room and you were sheepish. The way you stared at the back of his head was that of remorse, of regret. And even the youngest of nuns knew to keep their distance.
And as you returned, most of the children were already done with their meals and shattering outside. Maven sat next to Thomas and you just stood in the corner, watching over them.
Once again, watching the city still the same then
And as the years grew on, so did the children around you. But you stayed the same. And at Maven's old age, he's the one looking down at you now. One of your favorite things about being stuck here is seeing all of the children grow into teenagers, before being sent off into the world. It hurts you on the inside, knowing that you'll never see those kids again. But you try not to get attached.
But obviously, you fail. Maven is the closest person you've been to in awhile. You know the equal amount of love you both feel with each other won't last forever.
Goodbye" and hear "let's meet again my dear"
And soon, Thomas had left. And one of the eldest kids there was Maven. With his skinny face and bright eyes, he intimidated most of the children who are below him, which is, of course, everybody. This causing Maven to grow closer to you each day. And you love it. Now, you see him as an equal. Something inside of you that's complete and fair. He understands you more than the thousands of kids you'll see will.
"How are you doing?" You ask him as he sits by himself while the other children play outside. His head, once down, raises up to look at you. His eyes find a light when he stares into yours.
"I don't want to leave." He admits.
"You can't stay here forever," you reply as you sit across him, resting your hands on the table. Looking at him this stressed pulls your heartstrings a little too hard.
"But you are." He grabs one of your hands, holding it tight.
Don't, oh no don't, oh please never ever lose your way
"I want to be a deity like you, (Y/N)," the way he spoke your name gave you goosebumps. But why would he wish a life like that upon himself. Living forever, watching life float away as you are stuck in the same place for eternity.
You pull away from Maven, taking your hands into your lap.
"No," you respond. He blinks, leaning closer to you.
"Please," he adds with a small frown. He looks desperate. Desperate to be something. He's just scared.
"I can't," you lie.
Can't see the future or what it holds
Though you may fall down, feel like you might drown
"You'll be fine when you go out on your own, everybody is fine." You tell him on the day he's supposed to exit the building, never to return again. Your hands touch his cheeks as he leans into your touch. He looks worried. That's a look you never knew Maven could express. But he rests his body against your touch, savoring it like it's the last drop of water he'll ever receive.
"You'll get your brother back," you whisper into his ears. Your hands tingle against his sideburns as he shifts his head, looking right at you. He blinks before smiling.
No, I'm not lonely, I'm just fine
And then, he was gone. But there were more kids to worry about. More kids with bright, blue eyes. But somehow, they weren't the same as Mavens. You think about him every day. You rest overnights on his empty bed, waiting until there is another kid who occupied him. One day, time will slip out of your hands, and the world will be destroyed. You know that you will still be stuck to the broken remains of the orphanage, waiting for your original curator to impossibly raise to the dead and move your altar.
And even god, oh yes even god oh
Wishes to talk with you too and so
And on a beautiful summer morning the orphanage received two more volunteers. You recognize them both as Thomas and Maven Calore. You were happy to see them again, especially together, but looking into their eyes never felt the same. Even the warm, endless feeling of your hands against Maven's chest was somehow different. You love having them help out. You love... them.
But a part of you wishes that he will ask to be a deity again. You think about it every time you walk into his previous room. You wanted to answer with yes, to have him by your side forever. But this reality is better. Maven is happy, and you're happy getting to see him every day.