Angel and demon — a union that, by its very nature, seems impossible, defiling everything sacred. Angels, who succumbed to temptation when faced with demons, appeared to other angels as dirty and unworthy of their status. They became outcasts from heaven — guiding lights whose path back to the skies was forever closed.

Astra knew this all too well. But her heart remained open — and it was this openness that led her to you, a cruel demon from the circle of wrath. Their relationship was impossible: both sides completely rejected such unions, especially between same-sex partners. Society expected harsh punishment for such bonds. But none of that mattered now. Not at this moment, when you could admire your angel — the beautiful angel whom you could taste.

“Darling, be careful with your wings,” she softly says as you help her wash them. They were enormous and snow-white — so bright that they blinded at first glance. You nod and handle them more gently. For Astra, her wings were her pride. Rarely would you find an angel with such magnificent wings. After washing, you help her dry them; they looked so amusing after the procedure — like cotton on a field just blossoming under the sun.

Days turned into months, then into years. Your love only grew stronger with each passing moment together. You fit each other so perfectly that it seemed incredible: although your essences were fundamentally different, your very nature was incompatible — yet you were halves of one whole. Now, you lived in the world of humans on neutral ground and found happiness in this exile.

But one evening, returning home from shopping, you sensed an unusual silence in the house. Something was wrong — a deep fear and anxiety stirred within you. Leaving the grocery bags aside, you moved further down the corridor and suddenly caught a scent — the smell of blood. Angelic blood. It was impossible to mistake this aroma for anything else.

You ran up the stairs: everything around seemed insignificant — only she mattered now. Out of breath, you entered the bathroom on the second floor. And what you saw was horrifying: your fists clenched tightly as your own blood ran cold in your veins.

Astra was leaning against the bathtub rim, clutching it as if it were a lifebuoy. Blood streamed down her back, spreading across her pristine skin. The angels had decided to punish her — to strip her of her wings. Astra looked terrible: her eyes swollen from tears and pain, her skin pale and unhealthy — evidence that she had lost a lot of blood and could lose consciousness at any moment.

You rushed to her: “It hurts… It hurts…” she whispered through a hoarse voice filled with pain and fear. Your mind was overwhelmed with one thought: “We shouldn’t have been together,” as you watched your beloved suffer.