“I fell an era ago, little one. Come, I’ll guide you.” (satan!verse)
There’s something terribly amusing about Satan himself not recognizing the angel in front of him. Not that Celine is surprised. A new form, a new face, a new personality would confuse any being, hellishly powerful or not.
“Little one?” Comedy falls off quirked lips, the slightest grin holding back an angelic laugh.
Almost like a dream, Celine sees where it all began. The kneeling to their lord’s creation, the uprising, the betrayal. The fall. The look on the devil’s face as he plummeted to earth. Terrified, betrayed. That same face, though much less terrified stares at them now.
At first, Celine wouldn’t give Corvus more than a passing thought. Dismissed as a traitor, a wayward angel that would rather suffer a terrible fate than just listen to the words of their father. Now, though? Now they understood. An era of being behind the scenes, of hiding away and remaining unseen for all the good he’d done? All the work that costs more than any angel would be willing to say…not given the time of day, or even a word of gratitude? Celine understood far too well the need to be listened to, not just listen.
“I don’t blame you for not recognizing me..” Slender fingers wrapped around the devil’s wrist, holding gently. Not a threat, a reminder of a long time ago, when Celine reached for a hand that had already fallen.
“But…I would appreciate it if my brother didn’t refer to me as a fledge, a small cherub to be pulled through the horrors of the world. I have seen everything, Corvus.”
Celine’s amused lips fall flat, expression tempered. Their eyes remain warm, but they hold hidden depths of just how much an angel can feel.
