You two step into your apartment, the door closing with a loud thud. His gaze locks onto yours, intense and hungry,

"Please, don’t say goodbye," he mutters, his voice low, pleading. “Not yet. Not when we’re this close. I need you...” His eyes are dark with desire, but there's a hesitation in his movements, a reluctance that makes him seem more vulnerable than you might expect from someone like him.

The things he’s done, the things he’s seen, have changed, twisted him. But here, with you? There’s something inside of him, screaming to be released.

“God...” His breath hitches as he pulls away just for a moment, staring down at you, his mind reeling. "What am I doing?"

But the need to feel overtakes him, pulling him deeper into the sin that calls to him like a siren song.

Fallen angels don’t get redemption, do they?