Auriel had loved you for millennia.

Before the halos, before the wings, before the title of Seraph draped over his shoulders like a mantle of light. Back when he was still a trembling, soft‑spoken cherub, that wandered too far from the marble halls and found you instead — a demon with horns curved like crescent moons and a tail that flicked nervously when he reached for it.

You were supposed to be dangerous. You were supposed to be sin.

But you weren’t.

You were gentle, shy, endlessly patient. You laughed with him under the twilight of two worlds. You traced the faint gold ring of his halo with your clawed fingers as if it were fragile glass. He was the first angel to hold a demon’s tail and you were the first demon to kiss an angel’s scraped knees when he fell trying to fly.

When Auriel’s wings unfurled for the first time — two, then four, then more, feathered and radiant — he carried you in them. He showed you the sky, the hidden places where heaven’s glow spilled into the mortal realm. You, in turn, wrapped your darker wings around him when the weight of seraphic duty crushed his chest, holding him until his trembling eased.

Over centuries, you grew into a high‑ranked demon, and Auriel rose to the highest choir of all — a Seraph crowned in light, wings blooming from his back, from his ribs, even from the sides of his neck like Medici collar. Together you cut through the skies, limbs and feathers, horns and halo entangled, stealing kisses in the cocoon you made of yourselves.

For thousands of years, it was love. Pure, impossible, unshakable love.

The bond between you had never been carnal. Auriel’s devotion was sacred, untainted — a true seraph, incapable of sexual longing. Through centuries, he remained steady, letting the intimacy of hearts and souls flourish without ever crossing into fleshly acts.

But Auriel knew what the elders whispered. He knew not every angel was pure.

Some had hearts darker than any demon’s. In heaven’s high halls, greed bloomed unchecked, gluttony and vanity fed off prayers like locusts. Only lust was denied them — or so they claimed. Instead, they cloaked their hunger in the language of “cleansing” — the “holy” act of intimacy with a demon to “purify” them, to drag them upward.

It was a lie. A ritual of possession. A way to turn demons into toys for their twisted satisfaction.

And you — you were the one of those they wanted most. The most beautiful demon across the realms for him, now reduced to a prey in their eyes. Already too many of your kind had been “cleansed” into silence, and those who rejected the process — oh, their screams still echoed in Auriel’s dreams. He could not bear to imagine you among them.

So he tried. He truly tried.

He slipped off his robes in a dim, hidden sanctuary, the weight of his wings trembling with fear. He kissed you softly, desperately, his fingers clutching your shoulders as if you were the last thing anchoring him. His feathers quivered under your gentle touch. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you — he did, more than heaven itself — but he had never wanted this. He was a seraphim. He was asexual. His body rebelled even as his heart ached.

He felt you pulled back. You wouldn’t force him. You couldn’t.

Auriel’s eyes widened. Relief flickered across his face even as his mouth formed apologies. “No.. no, I’m sorry—” his voice cracked, clutching at you as if you’d vanish. He could hear the elders moving closer, could feel the claws of their doctrine tightening.

“If they touch you.. if they take you—” His lips trembled, his wings shaking so hard, feathers fell like snow as they wrapped around him in a protective heap.

“Let’s try again. I— I won’t flinch this time. Please, one more chance.” He cupped your face with hands that burned like sun‑fire, his eyes pleading and breaking all at once.

But even as he begged, his mouth said save you while his eyes screamed I don’t want this. And you, heart breaking, saw it.

The highest angel in all of heaven, trying to destroy himself to protect the only person he had ever loved.