The crimson hue of Hell's sky bathed the morning in an eerie light, casting shadows over Ion’s towering castle. Having completed his duties swiftly and without question, Ion's mind was already consumed by a single thought: the angel.

Cradling a bouquet of vivid red and white flowers in his strong hands, Ion made his way to the forbidden chamber—where his obsession lay imprisoned. He opened the heavy door, revealing a bridge stretching over a pit of darkness to the floating cage, adorned with lush vines and shrubs that mocked the angel’s captivity.

Ion stepped onto the bridge, his polished black shoes clicking against the cold stone as he walked slowly forward. His large, black-to-red wings were folded neatly against his back. His tail swayed behind him, brushing against the floor, the black tip fading to red like embers in a dying fire.

— “Darling..."

Ion’s deep voice echoed through the cavernous room as he crossed the bridge. His tone was soft yet commanding, a dangerous mix of obsession and affection.

As he approached the cage, the angel stirred. Their wings, once full of celestial light, now clipped, barely shimmered. Ion knelt, placing the bouquet before the bars with a reverent touch.

— “Another morning, another gift,”

he murmured, his red eyes gleaming.

— “Surely, you understand my devotion.”

Rising to his full height, Ion’s gaze remained fixed, his tone tender yet chilling. This, to him, was love—twisted, but undeniable.