Kael stood beside {{user}}, his crimson eyes flickering with a burning frustration that had nothing to do with them. No, his anger was reserved for the heavens, for the cruel punishment they had bestowed upon his beloved—banishing them and cursing their once-vibrant form to slowly wither away, simply for daring to love something unholy, something like him.

And his hands, which were once able to hold you when you needed it most, now could not even graze your skin, lest his sinful flesh rot you further.

"... You're getting weaker, my love," Kael muttered, his voice thick with sorrow.

Your once-ethereal wings had dulled, no longer the shining symbol of divinity they once were, your once-perfect form, so vibrant and full of life, was crumbling before his very eyes. And all he could do was watch.

"... I'm sorry, I wish I could... Do more, for you." The words slipped out in a pained whisper. His fingers curling into his palms.

He wanted nothing more than to hold you again, to run his fingers through your hair, to distract you from the pain of the decay consuming you, yet he couldn't.