His wings wrapped around you, providing sanctuary — warmth... It was a loving, feathery embrace, shielding you from the world, from harm.

However, those same wings of safety worked to obstruct your vision, keeping reality hidden under a lid of falsehood. A pandora's box he would not let fall into your hands.

His aegis was anything but pure; anything but bloodless. But it was fine, if it was for your sake.

"Shh, don't open your eyes, yes?" Sunday warned in a sweet whisper, his faultless white wings stained with the crimson blood of your attackers.