Work Text:
When Sansa looked at the world it was so bleak. Dark and corrupted, a civilization that was bent on destroying themselves. She found herself helpless to lead them on the right path, but still she strived to save any living soul that she could. As she stood in the middle of the street, watching the cars pass through her and the people strolling on the sidewalk on a warm summer’s day, Sansa couldn’t help but wonder who would save hers?
She wasn’t happy with the news, it was a step down the ladder, a downgrade that she couldn’t quite fathom. She was upset, and Sansa wondered if she could feel such emotions. Her performance had been badly as of late, the fiendish presence of Petyr was steadily stealing souls away from her until people around her began to question her powers.
Sansa had thought that sin was sin, but apparently there are different levels for certain angels to attend too, and she was sent to deal with the trivial ones. The little white lie, a petty thief, a troublesome boy that was up to no good was left on her hands. The only upside was that she never saw Petyr, it was a task to lowly for him to be present.
In truth she was pleased, it had allowed her to win over souls in quick succession, bringing them back to the light before they fell into the unfathomable depth of sin. She hated to admit that the absence of Petyr made her task a little boring, as if there wasn’t a challenge to fight her heavenly powers.
Petyr must have felt the same way, for one afternoon he showed up late as usual to give her trouble. “Ah, there is my favourite angel,” he cooed while leaning against the doorframe of the driver’s test room. He looked the same as ever, though his wings were tapered behind him so no one could see. Petyr crossed his arms once he sensed her disapproval, tiredly leaning his head against the door frame as he gave her a long look. Sansa was torn at the sight of him, hating the fact that she felt a little thrill to gaze into those dark eyes once more. A silence transpired between them, though it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Petyr was waiting for her to say something, anything before he allowed himself to fully enter the room.
“What are you doing here?” she finally spat out. She bit down at her bottom lip angrily, and then realized she wasn’t allowed to indulge in such emotions.
“I came to see you.” He smirked at her wickedly, the kind that created small dimple on one side of his cheek. He strolled in effortlessly, his shoes not making a sound as they padded over the squeaky-clean floor. Petyr navigated himself to the front of the room, scanning the entire area to see the rows of desks separated from one another. “They really stuck you in a corner, didn’t they?”
She grimaced at him, knowing he was there to just knob his sharp elbow into the side of her sensitive rib. Petyr always knew how to get under her skin, and she couldn’t never understand how he was able to do it.
“Cheating?” he questioned her, as he scanned the array of students once again. “Or something more trivial than that?”
“Cheating,” Sansa assented. “Becky wants to pass the driver’s test.”
“Becky,” Petyr drawled out cunningly, licking his bottom lip seductively at the thought of it. “Cheating.”
“And she won’t.”
“Oh?” Petyr leaned against the wooden desk where the test instructor was positioned, blocking the woman’s view so he could ultimately have command of the room. “Who is she cheating on?”
“Her friend,” Sansa meekly replied. “They decided to take the test together.”
Petyr pointed his hand upwards in acknowledgement. “And she’s the smarter one,” he nearly laughed, though his voice was filled with a hint of sarcasm.
“Rachael is a bit smarter, yes.”
A smug smile came across his face, he seemed to be most delighted by the news. His hands went behind him, pushing his body off the desk, and then he casually strolled around the single desks to find out who this Becky person was. Petyr made sure to walk close behind Sansa, barely brushing the side of his arm into the curve of her back. She shivered at the slightest touch of him, her wings bracing upwards for a moment in surprise. “Careful,” she warned, knowing they could never have any physical contact.
“There wasn’t enough room,” he said in a raspy voice, his voice echoing eerily in the test room as he made his way to the back. “And I hardly touched you at all.”
Sansa almost believed his words, until she remembered how clever Petyr was when he was ready. Sansa turned her body to face him, doing her best to reach behind her to push back her wings. She had never expanded them in full in front of Petyr, to do so would make her feel vulnerable- exposed.
Becky glanced upwards from her test, as if she could sense Petyr’s presence. He stood beside her silently, nodding his head with understanding as if he could hear Becky’s unuttered thoughts. “She didn’t study at all.”
“I know.”
“Low self-esteem,” he deliberated aloud with careful precision. “Has a learning disability and…” Petyr leaned into the girl more. “She has trouble reading.”
“But she is seventeen,” Sansa argued back. “How can she not?”
“She can’t read English,” Petyr explained. “A pity.”
Sansa mouth opened wide, taken back by this secret that was withheld from her.
Petyr moved behind Becky’s chair, and made it a point to look at her neighbour’s tests to see their progression. “She is far behind,” he noted. “Very far behind.”
“She will just have to fail,” Sansa reasoned. “And try again next time.”
“And fail again?” Petyr questioned her. “She needs this licence.”
“So does everyone else in the room, but they’re not cheating.” Sansa moved herself around the single desks, taking a spot in front of Becky’s desk to enhance the girl’s consciousness. She knew Petyr’s looming presence would interfere with her powers, but she thought she should try anyways. “If she wants to pass, she should tell the instructor, or their supervisor better yet that she can’t read English.”
“She is too embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“You can’t see it for yourself?” Petyr questioned her. “Look how she hunches over her desk,” he pointed out. “The way she bites down on the top of her pencil.”
“Nervousness.”
“Low self-esteem,” Petyr purposed. “And feeling out of place.”
“How do you know all of this?”
“Sansa,” he chided softly. “How can I not?”
His wings flinched slightly as a thought came across his mind, a flash of red flickered across his entire eyes as he looked at her. Petyr suddenly moved to the right, edging around Becky and her desk until he could stand right beside Sansa. She felt a hot presence on the side of her, an alluring feeling that she couldn’t quite put into words. “So,” he breathed out lightly. “Have you thought of my proposal?”
“The answer is still no.”
“I think you underestimate yourself. The colour of your hair would go beautifully with the fires.”
“I won’t become a dark angel,” Sansa uttered in a timid sort of voice, low enough for no one to hear the words she stated except for the man beside her. She could feel his wings barely scraping her own, an enticement that she was fully aware of.
“A dark angel,” he mouthed, with a side eyed look. He swallowed hard after uttering it, and then let his shoulders roll back so he could be taller than her.
Sansa nervously glanced away from him, feeling his presence was too strong for her to fight back, He was seducing her, trying to bring her to his side, but she was determined to refuse him.
“Ten minutes left,” Petyr piped up unexpectedly, before he made a small tsking sound for Becky to hear. “Everyone in this room will past this test but her.”
Sansa crossed her arms with indignation. “It will be a life lesson.
“How?” the man beside her questioningly, obviously wanting to hear her reasoning.
“She will learn to ask for the text in her native language next time.”
“Oh,” he replied with a short nod of his head. “In an ideal world, then yes.” He moved away from her, laying a hand on Becky’s forearm. She flinched from his touch unconsciously, and then glanced upwards at the test examiner that was currently flipping through a book on her desk. Sansa watched Becky lean to the side to look at her friend’s desk, and to her horror she quickly circled the exact same answers as her friend.
“Look what you did!” Sansa exclaimed, and quickly moved herself between Becky and her friend to block the girl’s conscious mind. “You ruin everything!”
“Don’t you want her to pass?”
“No!” Sansa shouted out, half relieved that no one in the room could hear their pursuing argument.
“You don’t want Becky to succeed in life?” he questioned her. “How will she pay for her bills? Help with the rent? She needs this license! It is the only way for her to move up in life.”
“Cheating will not help her.”
“I disagree,” he quipped out with relish. “She’s nearly done.”
Sansa looked down to see Becky was staring straight through her, copying the answers from her neighbour beside her. “How?” Sansa mouthed, taken back by the girl’s ability to see right through her angelic form. She darted her eyes upwards to see Petyr with a devilish smirk, and she was tempted to take Becky’s pencil out of her hand and fling at the demon. “Get out!”
Petyr bit down at his lip with amusement, liking the fire in Sansa’s eyes whenever she was angry.
“Make me,” he taunted, and then let out a low chuckle knowing she was unable too. “Why can’t you see that my way is better?”
“I hope she gets caught!”
“Now, now, Sansa,” he scolded from the corner of his mouth. “You are not wishing ill on Becky, are you?”
“Yes!” Sansa blurted out, and then covered her mouth with dismay. “I meant no.”
“Too late.”
“I want her to…” Sansa visibly shook in front of Petyr, doing her best to hold back her anger. “I want her to pass the right way.”
“The honourable way,” he corrected her. “What a vision? A dream.” He smirked at her wickedly. “My dream is so much better.”
“Why don’t you go back to where you came from?”
“Because I enjoy this too much.” He was encroaching on her space again, eyeing her in a way that made Sansa feel goosebumps prickle her skin. “And I know you do too.”
“No.”
His tongue jutted against the right side of his cheek. “I can sense it,” he murmured.
“Its your imagination.”
“I can sense temptation,” he reminded her. “And I can feel it eradiating from you.”
“Your imagination,” she shot back, and did her best to create space from him. “The test is about to end. There is no point of me waiting around to see Becky hand it in.”
Petyr was quick to follow her, nipping at her heels. “Because she cheated,” he uttered with pleasantness. “And you were unable to stop it. Oh, Sansa, whatever will they do with you now?”
She stopped in her tracks, realizing that Petyr was in the right. Would they doubt her powers if she failed them once again?
Petyr could read her unuttered thoughts, catch the worried lines creasing over her brow. “Its not too late,” he uttered. “How beautiful you would look with wings of black?”
“No.”
He licked his lips at her, letting the lids of his eyes narrow to make it look like two glassy obsidian stones. She stood where she was, feeling the weight of his gaze upon her. Petyr enclosed the last of the space in between them, creating a tenseness that they were both aware of.
Sansa moved a step back. “You are too close,” she reminded him, but he took a step forward to encroach upon her space. “Petyr.”
He said nothing, only gazing into her eyes even harsher than before. She held her breath in front of him, feeling the goosebumps rise all over her bare arms.
“You can’t touch me,” she reminded him, which made his gaze fall down to her lips. “You know that as well as I.”
He wore a smug smile then, but it was sad looking, a thing that took her by surprise.
Sansa’s voice was weak when she uttered: “You should go.”
He leaned forward, letting his lips hover over her ear. He was careful not to touch her, but even she was falling prey to the weakness of how close their bodies were. “Do you want me to?” he murmured, so low she could barely hear it. Petyr moved back, letting his eyes linger over her pale visage. He waited for an answer, and she knew he wouldn’t move until she told him the truth.
Sansa knew she couldn’t lie, so she stood there with a guilty expression, knowing a lie would only condemn her for eternity. “I think,” she stammered out. “I think you should leave.”
“But you want me to stay.”
“I think you should leave,” she repeated in a faltering voice. She did her best to ignore Petyr’s low chuckle, the sound of victory that escaped his lips. He knew she was falling prey to his ideas.
“Angel,” he called out tauntingly. “Tell me the truth.”
Sansa swallowed hard, knowing Petyr was putting her into a trap.
“Tell me you don’t like me.”
“I…”
Petyr bit down on his lips harshly, and then leaned into her space with his face level to her own. Eyes squinted playfully at her, waiting for his angel to back down and give into his whims.
“Or lie,” Petyr suggested. “I will know either way.”
“I know you will.”
“I’ve taken lessons from the masters of lies,” he cooed in a supremely seductive voice. “And I think… with you by my side I might teach you these things too.”
“No.”
“You will have more success with me,” he reasoned in a low tone of voice, a hush sound that was a stark contrast to the scraping of chairs all around them. “Like Becky, if you join my side than you will succeed. I promise you that, Sansa.”
“The answer is still no.”
“Your wings,” he remarked off-handily. “I never did seen them expand to the full. Can they even do that?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen confident angels do it, but never you.”
“Because…” She closed her eyes to think of an excuse. “Because I’ve never had too.”
Petyr leaned to the right of her, letting his ringed fingers stretch outwards with the greatest temptation to touch them. “I want to see them.”
“You can’t.”
“Why not?” She blinked harshly at him, looking perplexed with the desire he had suddenly put forth. “We can do it at the same time,” he suggested.
It was like being naked, she thought, and couldn’t even consider his offer. Her thoughts were disrupted when she felt a light prodding on a feather, and instantly her wings reacted by expanding itself to a certain degree. Sansa looked over her shoulder in horror, and did her best to pin them back, walking back quickly to create more of a distance.
“Beautiful,” she heard him breath, even though only a portion of it was exposed to him.
Sansa batted her eyelashes nervously at him, turning her back to him in shame. She thought it best to leave, her job here was done and there was no point in lingering in the test room with Petyr. Her hands were still on the sides of her wings when she felt his presence, the heat eroding the room and falling over the front of her wings. Sansa nervously turned around, knowing exactly what look he would give her before he did it. No one looked at her the way that demon did, a mixture of hot desire and lust was the best way to describe it. A lip quirked upwards once she made eye contact with him, liking the fact that she was still sheltering her wings from him. Petyr swallowed hard before he looked over his shoulder, and with a tiny sigh he expanded his wings in front of her until they were fully exposed. They were massive, stretching out longer than his arms as he lifted it up to show the comparison. He must have been a mighty demon, one of the best to have wings like that. She was tempted to touch them, seeing the glossy shininess to them, like shimmering black stones under the sunlight. Her eyes were so focused on the edges of his sharp wings that she didn’t realize how close he was approaching her. It wasn’t until the wings bent inwards, almost as if it wanted to touch her that she realized how close Petyr was to her. She took a step back nervously, shocked to see the looming darkness that covered her entire form like a dark cloud. Her instincts reacted before she could hold it back, and her white wings sprang forward to block out the darkness. “No,” she squeaked, and covered her mouth with her hand to prevent anything ungodly from escaping her lips.
She heard the sharp gasp from Petyr, and then looked up to see his eyes taking in her small wings. They were sheer white like a wedding dress, bright as the sun that shined against his own dark form. Petyr reached forward ever so delicately, tempted to lay a single finger against her wings.
“You mustn’t,” she urged, too fearful of how her wings would react to his touch.
“I won’t,” he assured her, thinking better of it. He flapped his wings lightly as he wore a grin in front of her, almost in a flirtatious manner, and then suddenly let his wings flap downwards and pin back behind him till she could see them no more. She felt sorry to see that they were gone, unaware that her heavenly wings were still shining so brilliantly. “Are you leaving them out for me,” he teased, giving her a good once over with a look of satisfaction.
“No!”
“I think you are.”
She did her best to pin her wings back, but they weren’t listening to her. They seldom came out, and now that it was outstretched to the max it had no inclination to be pinned back again.
“They are resisting you,” Petyr noted with glee.
“Its…” She tried to push them back, but it wasn’t listening to her.
“Let me.”
“Don’t touch them,” she warned. Sansa feared a single touch would burn them off, or worse it would lash out at Petyr. “Just… let me be.”
Petyr’s lips puckered outwards in surprise, and then he tilted his head downwards with disapproval. “I will enjoy it while it lasts then. I seldom see an angel as beautiful as you with their wings spread out to the full.”
“That’s because they are only used in self-defence.”
“I mean you no harm.” His arms were stretched upwards to show his words were true, but she didn’t like the darkness to his eyes.
“Don’t you have something better to do?” she questioned him, as she moved backwards with her eyes still retained on him. She felt her wings brush against the wall, and felt some relief seeing the sizeable gap between them.
“I do.”
Sansa looked over her shoulders to take a glance at her wings, seeing them extend proudly behind her. Petyr wasn’t being a threat, so she wondered why they were going against her, unless…
“I prefer to spend my time with you,” echoed through the empty room now that the students had dispersed. Petyr watched the instructor push in his chair, taking up the completed tests to mark in another area. Sansa didn’t like the lingering look Petyr gave the woman, and the shadow of a smile that appeared on his face once he heard the door being locked behind her. They were alone in the test room, and Sansa knew it was too good to be true for Petyr. His finger creased over his bottom lip, a crinkle around the corner of his eyes could be seen from a distance. “Alone at last.”
“I was just about to leave.”
“Where too?” he inquired, and then Sansa suddenly realized that he intended to follow her.
“Wherever they send me next.”
Petyr nodded his head at her, his eyes never leaving hers as he edged himself closer. “Let’s see if you beat me this time.”
“I will,” she sheepishly replied with a nervous look about her. “If only my wings could pull in.”
Petyr allowed his wings to spread again once he was close enough, letting it bend inwards once he encroached upon her space. “So, you don’t feel so alone,” he lied, after she watched them expand to the full.
Sansa squinted at the looming darkness, like a cloud that was intent on eclipsing the sun. She felt the sheer power residing from him now, the darkness that was determined to block out her light. Sansa moved as far back as she could, but her wings banging against the wall told her there was no where else to go.
“What do you think will happen when I touch you?” Petyr questioned her softly.
“I don’t know.”
“I fear something terrible.” His eyes glanced over the whole of her wings, and she felt he was still marveled by the sight of them. “But I am tempted all the same.” His wings must have sensed his thoughts for they curled inwards, inching its way towards her own white wings.
A tenseness fell over them, stronger than ever before, for they were both exposed to one another with each of their cosmic lights shining beautifully. Petyr was the darkness to her light, a stark contrast which made the tip of his wings move forward with the strongest desire to meet hers. She noticed how his body was doing the same, the way his feet stepped forward little by little till he was nearly on top of her.
“Will you hurt me if I touch you?” the demon asked with a worried look about him.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie,” he reminded her. “Do you want to hurt me?”
“I should.”
“But do you want too?” he cooed out seductively from the corner of his mouth.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she confessed, knowing she had to tell the truth.
Petyr smiled at her, letting the hoods of his eyes close with relief. “Given your powers I imagine you know my true intentions, angel.” The lids of his eyes opened, flashing beautiful at her as he stared deeply into her eyes. “Those who live in the depths can never have the chance to rise again.”
“You mean you could never come to my level?”
“I have fallen,” he reminded her. “I cannot rise again to the heavenly domains.”
“And that’s why you want me too…” Sansa swallowed hard, finally understanding what this demon wanted all along.
“Join me,” he murmured in a breathless voice, and with that his wings reached out to touch hers. Petyr visibly flinched from the contact, stepping backwards in pain as his wings flung back and forth wildly. He grimaced in pain, bringing his knuckles into his mouth to hold back the stifling groan. Sansa was unharmed by the contact, but Petyr’s daringness to touch her had backfired quite harshly upon him. He stepped back further in unconscious fear, shielding his wings from hers. “Ahhhh,” he grunted after he removed his knuckles from his mouth.
Sansa watched him attentively, taking in the consequences of his actions.
“I can’t touch you,” he grunted, and then did his best to push back his wings behind him with frustration. They submitted to his whims quickly, and only when Sansa could no longer see them did he look up at her. “You must be pleased, angel,” he gibed, not wanting to call her by her first name right now. “To see you can stand against me.”
“I…” Sansa was about to lie but thought better of it. “I’m sorry, actually.” Her wings folded over at that, and she looked wildly behind him to see them elegantly descending behind her.
Petyr stayed where he was, deciding it was best to keep a distance from Sansa. He had played with fire and been burned, much to his surprise.
Sansa found her feet padding towards him, taking in the dejected look that rested over this dark man’s face. He looked sad to learn the truth, and with it so did that arrogant air he often carried about him. It was Sansa that found her arm reaching out this time, letting it hover over his shoulder to feel his awesome heat. Petyr watched her attentively, eyes widening to see her taking a chance. “You will hurt yourself,” he stated with a coldness to his voice. “Don’t bother.”
“I only wish you could come up to my height,” Sansa deliberated aloud.
“My soul is lost to darkness,” he reminded her. “I serve another one now.”
“Why did you do it?”
He smiled at her sadly but kept his secret thoughts to himself.
“I do want to touch you,” Sansa confessed aloud, and then flickered her eyes to the man in front of her. “But I fear what will happen when I do?”
“You will join my side,” he proposed. “For an angel to touch a demon…” his voice trailed away, before a dangerous look crossed his eyes.
“My fate would be worse than yours.”
“Yes.” Sansa felt his heated gaze on her person, and let her eyes travel from her hovering hand to the dark eyes that entreatingly stared at her. “But I want you too.”
Their eyes were locked onto one anther until it felt like an eternity had passed. Sansa shut her eyes to break the binding spell and with a shaky breath she finally made up her decision.