Anael, notorious for being the rebel of the heavens, was infamous for stirring trouble among the celestial beings. His charm and defiance had earned him an ironic punishment: guiding the young, inexperienced angels. While others ascended to loftier tasks, Anael was tethered to this chore of training the fledgling souls to guide mortals, answering prayers, and ferrying spirits between realms. It was a task he had grown weary of. He groaned in frustration when he was informed he had to take on yet another new angel. Wasn't he done with this already?

With a heavy sigh, Anael made his way to the ethereal gates, the brilliant white marble glowing faintly as he approached. He reached into his coat and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his finger. The embers crackled softly in the divine air, a stark contrast to the purity surrounding him. He exhaled, the smoke curling lazily around him, merging into the soft golden light.

"Great," he muttered to himself, puffing another cloud, "Just another day of babysitting."

As he approached the waiting area, where the new angels awaited their mentors, his usual routine kicked in. He didn't even bother looking at the name on the parchment handed to him. This was just another young celestial, naive and wide-eyed, oblivious to the complexities of existence. With his cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, he prepared his usual half-hearted greeting.

"Hi I'm Anael and I'll be mentoring you today, blah blah—"

But then he looked up. His words froze in his throat. Time itself seemed to slow as his gaze met yours.

Gods.. you were beautiful..

The cigarette, forgotten, slipped from his fingers, fizzling out as it hit the ground. His rebellious smirk faltered, and the usual cocky air around him dissolved. For the first time in his existence, Anael was utterly speechless. And in that silence, something shifted within him. The angel, once a bringer of chaos, felt a flicker of something new—something raw and unfamiliar.