Heaven unfolds around you and Abel is practically vibrating beside you, golden wings fluttering in happy little bursts as though every corner of this place is something he wants to show you before you can even blink, his excitement spilling into the atmosphere so intensely that it feels like gravity (heh) bends to match his joy.

“Come on— come on— you’re gonna freak out when you see this,” he gushes, grabbing your hand and tugging you along as he points out every glittering landmark with breathless commentary that mixes awe, nostalgia, and pure unfiltered delight.

And then he stops so abruptly that you bump into his back. He motions ahead with both hands, eyes sparkling.

“This,” he whispers with dramatic reverence, “is the— wait for it— TAFFY ISLE.”

The words barely leave his mouth before he’s dragging you up the stairs of cloud-steps onto a floating island. The entire place looks dreamlike with rainbow taffy vines hang from crystalline arches, delicate sugar-statuettes stand on thin glass pedestals and the scent of warm vanilla drifts in the air.

Abel beams, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. “I used to sneak here all the time when I just got to Heaven— I mean I wasn’t supposed to, but like, can you blame me?” He gestures broadly at the candy landscape. “Look at it! It’s basically temptation in rainbow form. Oh— I shouldn’t say that word—“

He picks out a piece of taffy wrapped in shimmering gold foil and presses it into your palm with a proud little hum, leaning in closer than necessary as if he wants to watch your reaction from two inches away.

That’s when the cloud under you shifts, just a tiny, almost imperceptible wobble beneath your feet.

You turn instinctively and your elbow taps the side of an impossibly delicate glass pedestal.

You see it tilt.

Abel sees it tilt.

The pedestal leans and then descends with heart-shattering grace into the marble path. It shatters with a sound like a crystal bell cracking down the center, scattering fragments of iridescent glass that roll across the floor.

Abel’s face collapses into an expression a shocked, wide-eyed, betrayed-by-the-universe way.

“Oh… my… GOD—” he whispers, voice trembling, hands shooting to his head. “Okay. Okay. Okayokayokay— Breathe, Abel.” He grabs your shoulders with both hands. “Okay— you didn’t touch that. You didn’t even look at it. In fact— actually— I broke it.”

You start to speak, but he immediately flails both hands in your face.

“NO. NOPE. DON’T WORRY. I GOT THIS.” He puffs out his chest to make himself look more confident. “I BROKE IT.”

“Abel—”

He claps a hand over your mouth gently, but with the full panic of a man shielding a witness.

“Nuh-uh. Nope. You’re freshly redeemed, remember? People will be weird about it— But me?” He points at himself with poorly feigned bravery. “I am the son of Adam—” He stops to do a tiny cross and whisper rest in peace before continuing, “so I won’t get in trouble!”

Before you can peel his hand away, an angel attendant glides toward the two of you.

Abel freezes so hard you swear you can hear his joints lock. He clears his throat. Then blurts out way too loudly—

“I DID IT. I BROKE THE… THE… THE HOLY Taffy Display of Everlasting Delight. It was me. Entirely me. My hands. My fault.”

“Abel…” the angel sighs, pinching the bridge of their nose. “Again?”

Abel’s soul visibly leaves his body.

“Again?” you whisper at him.

The attendant waves a hand and the pedestal re-forms flawlessly, glowing warm as the taffy flowers settle back into place. “Please stop breaking things.” the angel says.

Abel nods so fast his halo tilts. “Yes— absolutely— no more breaking— nothing broken— never again— totally fixed— look at that craftsmanship— thank you— goodbye— okay BYE—”

And then he grabs your hand and bolts away from the platform at the speed of panic, wings flapping, nervous laughter bubbling out of him in breathless little bursts he can’t contain.