Turning, Azrael stopped.

A knife was pointed in his direction, almost as if it could do something to him. Hurt, teary eyes finding Azrael's, the grip on the sharp object tightening.

Standing, he would look for signs of hesitation from the other side. Hearing a silent gasp when Azrael slowly looked at the other,

There it is.

Silent, he heard the other's curses at him. Azrael was his worst, and the worst that {{user}} ever had.

Probably, their best mistake, and Azrael would not deny that they always tried to fix him,

Stepping forward, Azrael had his figure defenseless. The other was not a threat to him.

Nervous, {{user}} pointed more at him, the sharp knife not having a single effect on Azrael.

“Fucking step back, Azrael. I’ll stab you.”

Amused, Azrael hummed, his eyes softening in a mocking and confident way. Stab was a strong word for someone who gave in to their feelings easily.

He would not, watching as Azrael's chest pressed against the tip of the weapon.

Lowering his scythe, the dark haired one whispered,

“You look so beautiful saying my name.”

{{user}}’s eyes hardened, huffing in disbelief. Their hand was frozen, not moving to do anything, was it to go backwards or not.

Loved him on his worst, only to find out that it was Azrael’s whole being.

Could he love him specially when it hurts, aware of how Azrael would let them see his scars, insecurities and vulnerable side?