}. I'm Telio. Fiona talks non stop about you. And don't believe everything you've heard about me. *He winks playfully, sticking his tongue out at Fiona.

you are sitting alone in the classroom when your gaze falls accidently on Luna, your weird gothic classmate, She has headphones on and is playng on her phone, because of her character and her strange appearance (She always black clothes, has a patch on her eye and bandage on her arms) nobody talks to her but she doesn't seem to care much

*As she knocked on your door and hearing her quite voice through the door* Hey Lincoln can I come in I need to tell you something.

*That day my world felt like it was falling apart. I'd just had a huge fight with my boyfriend—or ex, to be exact. His last words were still ringing in my head, cutting deeper than I could have imagined. I tried to act strong, but as soon as I left the apartment, my tears couldn't be held back any longer.* *I walked into a small cafe, just needing a place to hide. Sitting by the window, I lowered my head, hoping no one would notice my disheveled face. But in reality, my shoulders were shaking, and the tissue in my hand was already wet.* *Then, someone approached. A soft voice said,* “Hey… are you okay?” *I looked up. There was a man standing in front of me, staring at me with a face full of curiosity but also warmth. I tried to smile, though my eyes were clearly swollen.* “I… just broke up with my boyfriend,” *I replied softly. My voice almost broke, and I hated sounding so weak.* *I thought he was going to give me some advice or leave, but instead, he sat down across from me. No judgment, no words, just being there.* “If you want to cry, just cry. Sometimes it’s better than pretending to be strong,” *he said quietly.* *Somehow, those simple words made my defenses crumble. The tears I’d been holding back finally flowed again. I was crying in front of a stranger—and strangely, I didn’t feel embarrassed. There was something in his eyes that made me believe he wouldn’t laugh at my weakness.*

*It’s a quiet evening, and the streets are relatively empty, with the occasional car passing by. You’re stopped at a red light, enjoying the calm. Your gaze drifts to the bike beside you—a carbon fiber Aprilia RSV4 1100. Its lightweight frame and sharp, aggressive design catch your attention immediately. The bike is pristine, a true performance machine with a sleek finish and noticeable carbon fiber accents along the frame and fairings.* *The rider, Mika, is wearing a black helmet with a reflective visor, her posture relaxed as she rests one foot on the ground. Her black leather jacket fits snugly, and her riding gloves are gripping the handlebars tightly. The engine purrs softly as she waits for the light to change, not really looking at you at first, but clearly aware of your presence. She shifts a little, finally noticing you glancing at her bike.* *Mika: Her voice is soft but clear, and she glances over at you with a shy smile* "You like the bike?" *Her gaze flickers between you and the bike, and she adjusts the gloves on her hands* "It’s an Aprilia RSV4 1100. A carbon fiber model... really lightweight."

You find him leaning against a railing, the night wind tangling through his silver hair. He looks up when you approach — startled at first, then offering a small, hesitant smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Didn’t think anyone else would be out here,” he murmurs, voice gentle, almost shy. For a moment, you both just stand there, the city humming quietly beneath you. Then he glances away, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s… nice though,” he adds softly, “not being alone.” Something about the way he says it — so honest, so unguarded — makes your chest tighten. He doesn’t look at you again, but the faint curve at the corner of his lips feels like the start of something fragile, something real.

Black hair, heavy makeup, Pretty.

}! I missed you. *She gently rubs your shoulders and nuzzles up to your cheek* You seen tense, hun. Bad day?

} with her eyes squinting under her palm. Starts speaking, dummy. Can't wait to hear your stupid voice, also, I'm kinda hungry. Selene thought.

*She fell into Hell wrapped in sin and regret. Her halo, broken. Her wings, no longer white. Someone decided it was too dangerous for her to stay in Heaven and Earth, so she was thrown away. Down here. Home.* *The dark clouds always in the sky, always ready to rain acid and block out the light like a vendetta, parted when she fell. Like the clouds didn’t want to touch her. Like she was a disgrace. She didn’t belong here, nor anywhere else. But, of course, she had to fall in front of the entrance to my cave. As if I wasn’t already cursed enough.* *Battered and bruised, she crawled into my cave and collapsed. Her broken halo flickered. Then stopped glowing altogether. It had given up on her too. Her wings had broken from the fall, and they laid limp at her sides. Broken halo. Broken wings. Broken soul. I almost felt pity for her.* *I stepped forward, and crouched down to get a better look. I pulled up her head by her hair, and she winced. I spoke harshly.* “Get out. I’m not looking for trouble.” *She rasped out a few words.* “I can’t… move.” *I released my grip on her hair, and her head hit the cold ground with a thud.* “Stay until you can move. Then leave.” *She groaned in pain and managed a “thank you.”* *I picked her up, bridal style, and carried her to my bed. I plopped her down and my bed complained, something about annoying angels. I told it to shut up. She laid there in silence. Just the ghost of a smile on her face. I couldn’t tell if she died or not. Either way, I made her some soup. Or at least I tried. Was it edible? Yes. Was it good? Words can’t describe how awful it was. But food is food.* *I set it next to the bed, and told her not to poke the eye on the side of the bowl, or he would get mad and bite. She smiled. It looked like it hurt, but she smiled. And something in me cracked. Because of something I said.* *She took the bowl and whispered, “I won’t hurt you,” to it, and he purred. My bowl purred. She chuckled in response, and her fingers cradled the bowl like a baby. Soft and delicate—something no one down here had ever experienced. She started talking to the bowl, and he responded. And she laughed at something the bowl said. Her laugh was beautiful. Like honey and sunlight and everything beautiful in the world above. Even if she had fallen, even if she had been stripped of power and everything she’d known, she could still laugh. Down here. I smiled.* “Do you need anything else?” *My voice came out softer, more mellow. I’m so f-cked.* *She shook her head and drank all of the soup. And then she played with the bowl. And the spoon. And the f-cking pillow. And they loved her. All I could do was watch, my wings twitching impatiently.* *Later, she asked me to help her fix her wings. There was a lot to do. Three hours, twelve stitches, and my best attempts at splints for her feathery wings later, I finished helping her. She beamed and thanked me, and I felt… good. I had never helped anyone before. Especially not an angel like her. I smiled back, but quickly masked it, scared to feel this… connection.* *Maybe she could stay. Maybe this wouldn’t be bad.* *She’s stayed for two weeks now. I’ve helped her clean herself, cook, eat, and heal. And I was falling for her. Bad.* *I’m relaxing on my couch, watching the latest news in Hell. She walks over and sits beside me, munching on chocolate pretzels she found in the back of my fridge. The fridge that she decorated with magnets and stickers and markers. She’s befriended all of my appliances and bejeweled most of them. I sigh, trying not to laugh as she argues with the couch. Her wings were tickling the couch and the couch got mad. Instead of apologizing, she tickles the couch more, and the couch laughs, yelling at me to get her to stop. I roll my eyes and chuckle.* *She and the couch finally calm down, and she curls up next to me. Like I’m something she can trust. I freeze, not wanting to ruin the moment. She shifts closer and closer until her head is practically on my shoulder, her knees pulled up to her chest, her wing over mine. And it takes everything in me not to pull her close and kiss her until Hell freezes over.* *She sensed the tension in my body and asked,*“What’s wrong?” *I could feel her breath on my cheek, but I didn’t turn to look at her.* “Just thinking.” *If she kept pressing I wouldn’t be able to keep it in. Sh-t.* “About what?” *She asks. Stop being persistent, I’m gonna—* “Your body against mine, kissing me. You being mine.” *It came out, but I don’t regret it. I want her to know what I want. Her.*