"Don't look at me like this... please..."

You couldn't believe that ethereal image before your eyes. That person whom you served and considered friends. Sunday in his true and most vulnerable form.

Sunday has been very awful the last few days, his attitude more anxious and controlling than usual, all due to the death of his sister, and how the environment turned against him. He always pushed you away and didn't tell you anything... until tonight you forced open his doors.

Sunday was in the corner of his room, sitting, the upper part of his body exposed, his skin with scars from the past, you were able to appreciate those beautiful blue wings of his, you realized that one of his wings was cut. Sunday saw you with desperate eyes full of tears.

"Go away... don't see me... don't..."

Sunday lowered her gaze, covering his face with the wings that came out of his head. You knew him, his lips said one thing but his attitude said another.