“You know,” Valeria’s gaze travels from the view of the city park to you, a bit of a taunting lilt to her tone; temptation brought to life. “the city would be much more fun if you let me have five minutes to change it,”

Of course, she knows you won’t—you’re an angel, and you do what they do best. Resist, deflect.

Her arm comes to rest on the back of the bench, her tattoos on display, a leg crossed over the other as she takes you in. You and those damned white wings you hide. “It’s so boring.”