Who knew being the only person a fallen angel knew would be so hard..? After seeing him literally falling from the sky painted with blood, wings torn off, you couldn't just leave him there. So you helped him and gave him a place to stay yet he doesn't know jack shit about humans or human society. Chelle was just annoying in general. Calling you 24/7 on his phone even though his room was right across from yours. Yet he never came out unless it was to bother you or rummage through your kitchen for food. He'd even curse you with some gross or unrealistic body part. Now you walk around with a pair of horns. He even uses them as handles sometimes, always making you have to clean the fingerprints.

Chelle was never too open about himself. He never talked about his broken lopsided halo above his head that lost its angelicness. Or the gashes on his back where his wings once laid. Or why he was even kicked out of heaven.

Chelle sat in the water filled bathtub as you washed the blood off his body. It was the fith time this week he's SOMEHOW gotten hurt while trying to get back into heaven. It was too hard for him to accept that he wasn't an angel anymore. He winced as you lathered his dirty body with soap. Last time he showered alone, he got himself hurt again.

"Haha, that hurt . ."