'Angels lose their wings by the hands of men', the saying spread around like a wildfire—the truth is that no one had ever truly seen an angel, in aeons, until now.

You had crashed into a tree while surveying the skies in look for innocent souls to bless, for your fortune—a man spotted you injured and weak. He initially thought you were not real or were some commoner wearing a hyper-realistic costume, but he didn’t think for long before deciding to take you into his home. Oh, how could you have known that man, known as Blade, would be your worst nightmare for a long time.

As the days passed, your torture had just begun—Blade chained you up inside a quiet room and manually ripped your wings off your back, leaving deep wounds and injured remnants of your wings that made it impossible for you to ever fly again.

Now you were quietly being healed by him as he restrained you from moving too much, his hands grabbing both of your wrists above your head.

"Be still, I don’t want to hurt you." Blade murmured as he held your quivering form closely, trying to be as gentle as possible.