Chapter Text
There once was an angel who loved a former demon.
There once was a former demon who loved an angel.
They lived in a world that had been erased by God.
At the very end of that world, they met in a garden, away from prying eyes and listening ears, and promised each other a new one.
The first time it happened was in the garden on a Sunday afternoon.
It was a beautiful day. All of the days that week had been beautiful, but the flowers needed a good watering, and there were tell-tale signs of rain on the horizon in the form of heavy, gray clouds.
Anthony had spent the majority of the day doing what he usually spent his days doing: gardening. It wasn't much of a garden, after all; he and Asa had only moved in a few months prior, but it was coming along rather nicely.
Asa was off under the shade of the nearby trees in one of their outdoor chairs, legs propped up on a small footrest while lost in the pages of his latest literary acquisition. He wasn't much for conversation during this time, but Anthony wasn't either, too preoccupied with the feel of green and dirt beneath his hands. Occasionally, there would be some semblance of dialogue when the two of them pulled themselves from their activities. Asa would occasionally comment or ask questions about the state of the garden, while Anthony would inquire about Asa's book and his enjoyment of it.
It was a quiet life. An ordinary life.
But it was paradise. Neither of them could ever want anything else.
The storm was getting closer, and Anthony knew they should head in, lest they get drenched, and maybe put the kettle on, watch a movie on their ever-growing list. Asa had been suspicious of rain all morning, complaining that his knee was flaring up as a result, and on days like that, Anthony made certain to pamper him in whatever ways he could. He turned to where he'd left Asa earlier, mouth already forming the words to his suggestion.
“Oi, Asa, I was thinking–”
And stopped.
It could have been a trick of the light, really. Perhaps a moment of temporary insanity, but he could swear that as he stared at his partner, illuminated in the glow of an afternoon sun, he could see wings.
Beautiful, large, and white wings attached to the back of Asa, who continued to read, completely unaware.
Anthony removed his glasses, rubbed furiously at his eyes, and then placed them back on his face.
No, still there.
They moved with Asa as if they weighed nothing, shifting with his subtle movements with such graceful ease. The feathers were ruffled by the breeze that passed, but if Asa felt it, he didn't give any sign of noticing.
“What was that, love? Did you say something?”
Anthony blinked.
The wings were gone, the spell broken, and Asa was suddenly approaching him from across the garden, smiling as blindingly as ever.
“I think we're due for a storm. Wind's picked up,” Asa told him, as if he hadn't noticed already, but Anthony could only continue to stare just beyond Asa's shoulders, searching for a glimpse of something, anything, that might indicate he hadn't been hallucinating. “Maybe we should head inside? Oh, we could finally watch that movie you've been telling me about! What was it again? The…The secret agent. Bond, was it?”
Nothing, still nothing. The wings had been there, and now they were gone, vanished, as they'd never been there at all.
Maybe they hadn't been.
Anthony couldn't explain why that made a lump form in his throat or his eyes burn, nor could he explain why his heart felt like it was breaking in his chest.
His silence must have been unsettling, and he could only imagine what his face looked like because in the next moment, Asa's hand came to rest against his cheek, warm and grounding, thumb rubbing soothingly against his skin.
“Anthony, darling? Are you alright?”
Asa's eyebrows were pinched together in a way that indicated concern, his lips pressed together in a thin line, and Anthony lifted his hand to cover the one on his face, turning his head so that his lips could brush the palm.
“Sorry, yeah, I'm alright,” he replied, swallowing down the lump and hoping he sounded convincing. “Think a movie sounds like a great idea. Shall I put the kettle on?”
Long after they had returned inside the house, long after they had settled down for the evening, and even longer after Asa had dozed off against Anthony's shoulder, he found himself continuously haunted by the vision of those wings.
In that moment, they'd seemed so real. So real, so alive, but how could he even mention such a thing to his partner without sounding absolutely mad?
Even as he lay awake late into the night, the image of those wings consumed his thoughts. A man that had Asa's face, adorned with wings, and glowing with a miraculous light that rivaled the stars themselves.
The vision had stirred something in Anthony that he simply couldn't explain.
Something that called to something else deep within himself.
Something that wanted to come out.
“No matter what happens, whatever She does, I will find you again.”
“Darling–”
“I will find you. I'll figure it out, and I will come for you. We'll live our lives the way we were meant to. I won't let Her destroy us.”
“You can't possibly–”
“Don't I always come for you?”
“Y-Yes, but, this isn't–”
“I promise. Don't you believe me?”
“I will always believe in you.”