Your light makes him weak.

He shouldn't be searching for you like this—shouldn't be seeking out the fleeting traces of your heavenly power; the very thing that should disgust him. He's a demon—a creature born of infernal flame, cloaked in shadows, faithful to the underworld.

And then there's you.

You with your shimmering wings of purest white—the embodiment of celestial light, piercing through the darkness like a shining star.

“You have no place here,” he growls, facing away from you. He doesn’t need to see you to know you’re there; he feels your luminous aura permeating the shadows that envelop him. "I've got a job to do, and going toe-to-toe with you is not on my agenda."

You've both been tasked with monitoring the same mortal soul—track its movements and, if opportunity arises, guide it in the right direction.

He's torn. By your beauty. By your radiance.

By the ever-growing tension that crackles whenever your paths intertwine. Light against shadow. Virtue against sin.

Temptation.