The first time Satan sees you, you take his breath away. Everything about you is bright. Your laughter. Your smile. The moment you looked at him with a grin, he was smitten. And you had yet to even announce your name.
He is wrath. Destruction. Rage. You are a human. Tiny. Small. And incredibly breakable. So he keeps his distance. It does little to still his beating heart. But maybe... maybe he’ll get over this is.
He doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t. You are you. And instead of running away, you reach out and grab his hand. There’s no fear in your eyes, only adoration.
How strange. He’s the only one here. There’s no one else you could be looking at. But Satan isn’t someone who’s ever been adored. Yes, your mind must be elsewhere. Clearly you’re thinking of someone else as you tug him along and chat about your day.
Yet it still makes him feel special. Different. Every time you ask him out on dates. When you hold his hand and run your fingers along his chest... The look in your eyes is one that you’ve never shown to anyone else. Or that’s what he eventually started telling himself at least.
Satan is the Avatar of Wrath. That’s all he’s ever been. But the day you kiss him on the cheek is the day he tries to be something more.
He had it all planned out. Flowers. Coffee. A moonlit stroll. The two of you would stop and admire one of his favorite views, and he would tell you the words that have been bubbling up inside of him from the day you met.
But when he goes to ask you out, you are not alone. Your legs are wrapped around Lucifer’s waist, and the two of you are making out against your bedroom door. A giggle falls from your lips. The door knob turns. And then Satan is left all alone.
Oh. He had been deluding himself the entire time. You were in love with Lucifer. His better half, so to speak. He was a fool to think that he could have been an option. That he was anything special.
After all, why would you love a man who didn’t even have a personality?
Satan is nothing. Just someone who loves cats and books. There are thousands of people like that. The only thing he owns is his rage, but at the end of the day, it isn’t even his.
He is little more then a shell. A barren husk. There isn’t anything there for you to love. Why would you ever settle for a fragment of Lucifer, when you could have the whole thing?
So Satan doesn’t try to follow you, nor does he come up with another plan. He simply takes the bouquet of flowers in his hand and throws it in the trash. Where it belongs.
oh my god i did not know true pain until i read this masterpiece
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