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The chains wound themselves tighter around Scar, burning whatever they made contact with, which in this situation was Scar. He wanted to scream, to cry, to break free of all that held him down, but instead he held the gaze of the tyrant before him with as calm of an expression he could manage. “You look… angry.” He grinned, speaking louder as if that could mask the shakiness in his voice. He can stop the pain if he wills it all away.
“Silence!” The tyrant yelled, hands clenching into fists, “I have every right to be enraged. What were you doing with the angel?” He demanded.
“What angel?” Scar blinked innocently. He was probably not doing the right thing but he sure was having fun aggravating the monster before him, as long as he ignored the scorching metal binding him.
“You know which one.”
“Ah, the one I managed to woo with my irresistible charms?” Scar had the audacity to wink. He was most definitely making it worse on himself but he didn’t really care.
“Have you any idea of the damage you’ve caused?” He whispered softly, yet even more dangerously.
“No, actu—,” and this time he was being genuine. How was his falling in love damaging?
“Silence!” He interrupted Scar, “You ruined our reputation. You tore apart all that we stand for. You could’ve killed that thing and be over with it but you chose to be in its presence.”
“He is not a thing,” Scar spat out, “Sorry for having morals, I guess.” He mumbled. The chains stung even harsher. Don’t give into the pain.
“We can not allow you to live amongst us anymore.” And that was the last thing he heard before the blood-coloured ground gave away. The chains let go of him, the fire stopped devouring him, and he fell.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
The news of Scar’s exile spread like a wildfire, but instead of it bringing destruction, it brought a cause of celebration. Grian felt sick. This was horrible. They were angels— kind, caring beings. It wasn’t very kind or caring of them to celebrate the exile of a kind, caring being, although he was a demon. Scar wasn’t heartless. He didn’t deserve to be a demon. He didn’t deserve to be punished this cruelly, either.
Grian conjured up a small orb and raised it to eye level, his bracelets jingling upon his movement. He screwed his eyes shut and let his mind focus on Scar. Opening his eyes, he saw Scar in the orb, and oh, how he longed to reach for him. Scar was curled up on grass, face relaxed and soft. His wings and horns gone. His arms were littered with burn marks— a nasty pinkish-red. He was hurt.
He was hurt and Grian needed to be there for him. He needed to leave. The skies may be a perfect, peaceful place, but not for Grian, for as long as he was kept away from his Scar. He had to leave.
Not many dared leave. Only a select few did. And they were shamed for all of eternity for their decision, cursed mercilessly. Grian would face the same treatment. That would kind of suck, but he could live with that.
There weren’t many ways to leave voluntarily, but there was one guaranteed to work, hopefully. The edge of the clouds where the fabric separating them from the world beneath would be weaker. Maybe he could brute force through. Maybe, just maybe.
He spread out his milky-white wings behind him. They were larger than he was. Maybe they would be enough to allow him to reach to Scar in time. Maybe. He launched himself up high and flew, dodging past the other angels and ignoring their gazes, their words.
He didn’t fly often. He got tired a lot the rare times he did, which wasn’t normal for angels as they never felt exhausted. This was just like those times. His body longed to rest but his mind and heart were determined to not let that happen. Rest would be a waste of time. He couldn’t waste time.
The clouds began to disperse, leaving but a faint, gold floor. Grian landed with absolutely no grace. He got on his knees and felt around with his fingers, trying to find a weak spot. He was far enough now. He had to be. He just needed that one, as the other angels considered it, hole in a silver lining. He paused as he felt it. The magic was fainter here. It was breakable. This was his chance to reach Scar.
He stood up and rose, gaining as much height as he could before crashing down. He could feel it slightly give away. He repeated the process. It hurt just barely. He crashed, again and again, until a tear formed in the smooth sheet. The tear expanded, and Grian only stopped when the hole was enough for him to fall through. He rose once more, one last time. This was it. A decision he could not reverse. Never reverse. He didn’t need to reserve it, he didn’t want to, either.
Screwing his eyes shut, he let himself fall.
He fell. At first it felt a lot like flying, but slowly he could feel the pain take over. His wings felt like they were being torn out. His eyes burnt and stung to the point he couldn’t open them if he tried. Every limb in his body hurt as he fell. He curled into himself and imagined Scar ready to catch him as he fell. He imagined Scar was here and it was all about to be over. He focused on Scar and wherever he was, using the last bit of powers he had.
He didn’t know how long he was falling for. He had closed his eyes and pretended none of it existed— not the pain, not him, not the world he had given up. He knew when he had landed, though. He pierced cool water and sunk to the bottom. His eyes opened as he thrashed and kicked, reaching for the surface. He broke through and took in his surroundings. This was the forest Scar had to be in, and sure enough he was, still lying on the ground, eyes just barely open.
Grian swam towards him and collapsed next to him, “Scar, I’m here.”
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
Upon hearing Grian’s angelic voice, Scar forced his eyes to open and forced himself to sit upright. Grian, his Grian, was before him. His soft blonde hair was damp, bangs sticking to his forehead. His white robe was wet, too, just the barest bit transparent. His eyes, though, had changed. His sclera now black, pupils white. His wings, too. They were smaller and darker, drooping uselessly behind him. But it was still his Grian. “I’m here,” he whispered.
He took Scar’s arms and inspected them and the red bruises that littered them, rage flooding his expression. He didn’t say anything though. He pressed a kiss to one of his bruises and Scar felt a faint ticklish sensation. He looked to see the bruise… heal, leaving a white mark in its wake. “I still have a bit of my powers left. They’ll fade away too, but while I have them, I can use them to heal you,” Grian answered the unspoken question, managing a subtle smile against Scar’s arm, before kissing the other bruises, taking away all of Scar’s pain. He wanted to keep this sight to him forever.
He sat there content and happy, letting Grian do his job, until realisation slapped him in the face, the truth more painful than the hot chains that had tied him. Grian had given up the perfect life he lived, the beautiful world he resided in, just for Scar. Just because Scar had been careless and let themselves get caught. Grian gave up all just for someone like Scar. “Grian?”
Grian hummed in response, not looking up.
“Y-you voluntarily became a fallen angel…” Scar whimpered.
“Yes and?” Grian was done with his arms and now met Scar’s gaze. Stars, his eyes were still as captivating, still as breathtaking.
“But why?” He whispered.
“Because you were exiled and I couldn’t live up there without you. Because I love you,” Grian explained as if it was the most obvious thing ever.
“I’m not worth it. I’m an evil, no good, corrupted demon,” Scar ran his hand through his hair, tugging. He wanted to cry.
“Shut up,” Grian mumbled, “You’re kinder, better, and more caring than most, if not all angels I know.”
“But I basically ruined your life like the monster I am.”
“You made it so much better, you idiot, and you’re not a monster,” Grian scolded, “You’re not allowed to have these thoughts, mister,” he poked Scar playfully with his finger.
“B—” Grian shut him up with a finger to his lips, leaning in close. Scar’s breath hitched and the blood rushed to his cheeks. Grian noticed and he giggled, pressing a kiss to his left cheek.
“You’re amazing, perfect, and frankly, the best being to have ever existed, Scar and I love you so much,” Grian whispered against his cheek, finally pressing his lips to Scar’s. Their lips slotted against one another as if they were made for each other. And they were. Different species but meant to be one. Grian’s lips were soft, they always were. Grian kissed him, not hungrily, not desperately, but softly, tenderly, as if to remind Scar of how much he loves Scar. Scar kissed him back with the same delicateness. They broke apart, as much as they didn’t want to.
“I’m happy to be here. I’d have fallen ten times more if it meant I’d be with you forever. Wherever we go, whatever we do in this world, we’ll always be together,” Grian’s hand trailed over to Scar’s, their fingers interlocking, foreheads touching. “Always.”
“Always,” Scar echoed.