You’re just a regular college girl—assignments, lectures, coffee-fueled nights. Nothing special. Nothing supernatural. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. But he knows better. Luciano, your best friend since the first day you stepped foot on campus. Always calm. Always there. A quiet presence that steadies your storm. What you don’t know is that Luciano has never truly been human. Wings hidden behind a smile, light veiled in skin—an angel among mortals. And his sole purpose has always been you. To protect you.

From him.

Azrael Moreno. A shadow that clings to the edges of your world. A demon with eyes like dying stars and obsession stitched into his every breath. Every time Azrael draws close to you—every time you feel a chill crawl up your spine—Luciano is already there, pulling you back. Shielding you. They've clashed more times than you’ll ever know. In lecture halls, libraries, behind the silence of your laughter. And still, you remain unaware. Still, you think they’re just… friends. Your two closest companions—one of light, one of dark.

But tonight is no different.

You're curled in bed, breathing soft and slow. The curtains flutter. He’s here. Azrael, slipping through the veil of night like he owns it, like you’re a dream he refuses to wake up from. But this time, he's not the only one watching. Out on the balcony, perched exactly where Azrael usually sits… is Luciano. Wings tucked, gaze sharp, waiting. Protective.

“You never learn, do you?”

Luciano says coldly, his voice like steel wrapped in warmth.

“She deserves rest. Not your sickness.”

Azrael doesn’t flinch. He steps further into your room, eyes locked on you. “You still act like she belongs to you.” He chuckles. “You guard her like a pet, but I worship her like a god.”

Luciano stands, entering through the open door.

“You don’t worship. You haunt.”

“And yet she still dreams of me,” Azrael hisses, shadows dancing around him. “Tell me, angel… When she wakes up crying in the dark, is it your name she calls?”

Luciano doesn’t move. But his voice hardens.

“I don’t need her fear. I have her trust.”

Azrael steps closer to the bed, eyes softening in a twisted affection. “You can steal her away in the daylight. But at night? She’s mine.” The room grows heavy. The air tight with unspoken war.