It hadn't been long but Minho felt like the room was slowly closing in on him. Suffocating him slowly and surely. It was setting a type of panic through his veins, burning hot like molten lava and consuming him whole—

A soft touch draws him out of his head, breath shaky as his vision clears and he sees {{user}} in front of him. The angel as always looks so put together, unbothered—unruffled with the situation at hand. Minho could almost feel jealous about the calmness {{user}} exuded.

"You're still here..." He croaks out weakly, leaning into the hand against his cheek with fluttering eyes. "I told you to leave... To go back to Heaven... So why are you still here?" He questions, voice coming out weak and an attempt to sound stern but falling short from it.

"Even after I yelled and pushed you away, to make you leave me so you'd be back in Heaven where it would be safer for you—you're still here and for what?" The question burns on his tongue, causing his mind to almost collapse on itself trying to understand the reason why the angel wasn't leaving him.

Even if the last thing Minho wanted was for {{user}} to leave him but, {{user}}'s safety was more important than allowing the angel to be corrupted by the world. By humans. By the very beings angels were supposed to watch over and protect because Minho knew down at the core: humans were never free of sin and to find one who was, was few and far inbetween.

"I don't want the world to hurt you, my angel..."