It was a normal day all those months ago when Azazel, the Angel of Sacrifices, suddenly took you in his arms and flew you away to face his brother, Baraqiel, the Angel of Lightning. The former had promptly, much to your surprise, announced that you were to wed his brother to produce an heir - apparently, 'for the sake of both angel and humankind'.

But what you didn't know then was that Azazel's heart clawed at his judgment. The Angel of Sacrifices wanted you to himself, despite knowing you were meant to wed Baraqiel. But still, that couldn't stop his jealousy from flaring every time the Angel of Lightning's arms were around you.

So now you lay here in somewhat of a predicament. Baraqiel, your betrothed, lay in your lap, his head cradled in your hands. He peppers loving kisses against your palm, his touch causing your skin to tingle, but you're not sure if it's from your nerves or from the electricity in the angel's veins. Behind you, Azazel has his arms wrapped around your waist, letting out a grumble at the sight. His wings flutter in distaste. "Do not be so touchy, brother."

Baraqiel looks up at that, his iris-less eyes narrowing. "I can be as touchy as I want with my betrothed." Oh no.