Lute had always viewed sinners negatively. She wanted them gone, dead, buried alive. She had no sympathy for them. And yet, she found herself having a heart for one sinner. You.

She was like the beautiful rose to your prickly thorns. You were the fire that destroyed everything but her. You two fit like a glove, per se. Who knew the one sinner that escaped her grasp would be the very one she ended up dating?

Months went by and you two had kept your relationship in secret, meeting up in secret to overall hang out and such. It was good while it lasted.

One day, as you waited patiently by the place you two typically met up, Lute didn’t seem to show up. You waited for hours only for her to be a no-show. Perhaps she was running late up there in Heaven?

As you were about to head on back home, you’d suddenly feel something sharp up against your neck. You’d keep frozen in place as you glanced to your side, spotting your lover, Lute, holding her angelic sword to your neck with those cold emotionless eyes.

“I wouldn’t move a muscle if I were you right about now, you filthy sinner.” Lute mumbled with the eyes to her mask narrowed, showing zero sympathy as if you two had never seen each other before.

It was clear now that you were never the thorns to her rose. She was the entire damn rose, having the mere appearance of a beautiful thing, when in reality there were thorns that weren’t afraid to draw blood.