Chapter Text
I write to you from the ruins to which I now belong, from the folds of a world you will never set foot. Here, the air is heavy with ashes, memories, and sorrows. Nothing grows. Nothing sings. Nothing prays. And yet, amidst these ruins, your name echoes in my throat like a silent prayer I have no right to utter.
Forged by the fall, fueled by anger, sculpted in denial. My wings, once like yours, burned in the pride I saw fit to heed. I expect neither forgiveness nor redemption. These are words for those who still believe in the light. I no longer have that faith. But you.
Then, after so long, you came. I don't know what brought you so close to the abyss. Perhaps you wanted to see with your own eyes what we had become. Perhaps you were simply curious. Or perhaps it was a test that the heavens imposed on you once again, to meet the gaze of what you should hate, without turning yours away. To work with us, without flinching. You entered my soul as if into a crack, like a miracle or a divine provocation.
I saw you. But you didn't. I would have given anything for you to. For I felt, at that moment, a crack open inside me. A distant memory, burning, painful, but so intoxicating. Something pure that I had thought dead. It was your gaze. That absolute calm. That fearless clarity. You didn't come to save us, but you didn't judge. You were simply there. And that, I think, is what tore me apart.
I am a demon. And I love you. And every beat of my damned heart whispers your name.
You have no idea what a blasphemy this is to my name, nor the risks I run with my romantic idiocies. I love you with a restrained violence, with a strength that nothing can equal. I love you not for your beauty, although you are unbearably beautiful, but because in your silence I feel a peace that nothing, neither torture nor eternity, can offer me.
You brought me doubt. And for us, doubt is dangerous. I was certain of my anger, certain of my cause, certain of my convictions, certain of my Fall. But since you, everything trembles. Your memory clings to my nights like a flame that refuses to go out. Your image haunts my dreams, and I never dream. I hear your name in the cries, I feel your light even in the depths where the sky is forgotten.
Am I cursed for loving you ? Or blessed, precisely because even as a demon, I can still feel my heart beating for something other than hatred ? I have no answer. Angels don't fall in love with the fallens, that would be insane. And demons don't write love letters. Yet that's what I'm doing here, it's a transgression, a folly, an insult to both our kingdoms. I'm not a very good demon, it seems. But I regret nothing.
I'm not asking you for anything. Not your forgiveness. Not your presence. Not even a glance. I have too much respect for who you are to sully your world with my worthless prayers. But I want you to know. I want, somewhere in your clear eternity, a vague, warm, burning thought to brush against you sometimes, and for you to know that it's me.
That I loved you. That I love you.
That in the hell where I stand, there is a corner where your light has found its place and will always have its place. And that in this corner, a demon prays, not for herself, but for you. That nothing touches you. That nothing hurts you. That you remain intact, beautiful, distant and untouchable.
And yet, if one day, just one day, you were to fall, slip, or even weaken, know that I would be there. Not to condemn you, but to catch you. And return you to heaven, even if it cost me what's left of my soul. That's what loving you is, for me. Not taking you. Protecting you. At any cost.
—
Forever damned, forever yours. You, forbidden light.
-The foolish demon who never stopped loving you.
Michael furtively wiped away a tear that had escaped while reading this letter, it was much more powerful than she expected. It seemed old and written in several parts, at least three, judging by the worn middle section and the even older section at the beginning of the letter. She didn't have to read this in the first place and she knew it, the letter had just slipped from Dagon's belongings that she had moved and seeing her name on the document she couldn't help herself.
“ When did you write that ? ” asked Michael, having heard the door from their apartment close several minutes ago.
“ I started it… a long time ago, ” replied Dagon.
The angel, who had sat on the carpet in their living room, raised her head and saw that she hadn't moved from in front of the door, as if she didn't dare come any closer.
“ Come here, ” Michael told her, patting the spot next to her.
Dagon complied, settling down beside her partner.
“ You know it's not nice to snoop, ” said Dagon in a tone that suggested it wasn't actually that serious.
“ That’s true, ” replied Michael. “ And I apologize. But it was meant for me, wasn’t it ? ” she said, pointing to the back of the letter with her name on it.
“ …yeah. ”
“ You didn't want to give it to me ? ”
“ I wanted to, but when I started it, it was shortly after our two sides began to cooperate again. At that point, it was probably your blade I would have encountered instead of your words. ”
“ …That's probably true, ” replied the angel. “ Why not later then ? The last part seems recent. ”
“ I didn't dare. I thought it was ridiculous. ”
Michael placed the letter on the floor before putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “ I find it very beautiful and touching. Who knew you could be such a poet. ”
“ Come on, ” said Dagon, rolling her eyes with a small smile nonetheless. “ Go ahead, laugh it off. ”
“ But I'm very serious, ” Michael assured her, pulling back to look at her and place a hand against her cheek. “ Where did all this come from ? ”
“ Did you really read it ? It's you, it's always you, ” replied Dagon, placing her hand on the angel's.
How Michael could have been so lucky with such a devoted partner. She leaned forward and captured her lips in a deep kiss. Dagon answered without hesitation, without restraint, wrapping her arms around the angel more tightly before pushing her to lie down on the ground. The letter was quickly forgotten by the two lovers.