FOUND: A Hannigram Devil AU

Epilogue

     How do you know you love someone?
     You know you love someone when their voice calms you and their body warms you, and you allow them to lull you to sleep. You become vulnerable in their arms and you are never afraid.
     You know you love someone when you come home later than usual and you find them playing the piano, their body leaning in as they become one with the music. You lean in the doorway, eyes closed as you listen, and you are transported some place magical. Somehow you end up on the bench next to them, your shoulders brushing theirs, and you lean your head on their shoulder and beg them to continue.
     You know you love someone when you jolt awake, drenched in sweat and reeling from a horrible nightmare, a memory from the past, and just seeing them makes it all better. They know what happened. They hold you and you soften. You're finally okay.
     You know you love someone when you're both soaked with blood, witnessing the most savage sides of each other, and it only makes you want them more. You are pack animals. You hunt together and split the prize. You witness them become brutal and violent, and a mere hour later you trust them enough to sleep next to them. Your life is in their hands and you still trust that you'll wake up the next morning and love them all over again.
     How do you know someone loves you?
     You know someone loves you when you find them staring at you in bed. They stroke your face to check if you're real— they sometimes can't believe you're actually here. When you reassure them that you are, they blink back tears of joy.
     You know someone loves you when you come home during a storm with a puppy, wet and shivering, and they draw a bath without question. It happens again, then again, until one day you find them asleep on the couch with all of the dogs nestled against them.
     You know someone loves you when you find drawings of yourself on their desk. Everything about it floors you— the detail, the contours of your body and your face, seeing yourself they way they see you. You didn't know you could be that beautiful.
     You know someone loves you when they call you their angel. They gaze at you with reverence.
     You know someone loves you when they share their inner darkness with you. They're willing to split the prize, to become half of a pair. His victim becomes yours, too, and you both thrive on it. They've given you such a gift, and you handle it carefully and love it. They let you know them and they don't feel the need to hide.
     Together you run. Together you are one being, unstoppable. You are feathers and concrete and fire and snow and light and dark and so, so beautiful.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
—————————————————————————
20 Years Later
Somewhere, hidden away in the recesses of an abandoned beach, there is a steep set of cliffs.
The waters of the Atlantic crash against the sides, white foam spitting upwards. Underneath the surface is deep, endless water. Get lost, and you're lost forever.
On top of one of the cliffs, two angels stand together. Their skin is white and pure against the dark sky. One has antlers and black wings, the other light grey. The Devil offers his hand. The Angel takes it.
"Are you ready, my beloved?" The Devil asks, running his hand along the Angel's forearm.
"Yes." The Angel is determined. "Are you?"
"Absolutely."
They smile and enfold each other in a fervent embrace. Their bodies begin to shine.
"This is going to be..eventful," the Devil says. "Just know that it will all work out, and know that I love you. I love you so much."
The Angel nods, teary-eyed. "I love you."
They kiss each other, spreading their wings and letting the glow from their skin illuminate the night. They are a ball of light, warm and comforting and scary and blinding all at the same time. Slowly, they both begin to edge closer to the cliff's drop-off.
The Angel shoves them both. The Devil wraps his arms tightly around them both.
The moment they leave the face of the cliff, the light fizzles out. They are human, heavy and feral and unafraid. They are confident in what the earth has in store for them. There is a moment where they float, weightless, before they finally begin the long fall.
They hit the water hard, leaving a massive splash in their wake. They don't fight. They stay in each other's arms, their vision blurry as they grip each other's clothing. They are wearing shoes, and they have heavy rocks in their pockets. They breathe and let the murky water enter their lungs; as they do so, they both begin to choke. Their futile gasps for air only make the problem worse.
The Angel is the first to go. His eyes roll back in his head, fluttering closed. His grip slackens and his coughs come to a frightening stop. The Devil's face crumples— it is the saddest thing he's ever seen, the worst he's ever felt. He can't tell if he's crying under the water.
He closes his eyes and lets the ocean take him.
But they are not finished. They both float unconscious for a short moment, until their bodies finally let go of the life they've been clinging to. There is no air. No protection from the salty, dark water. Their hearts slow and their lungs cannot take the pressure.
Their bodies will never be found in the waves of the Atlantic Ocean. They will become apart of one of nature's unforgiving cycles, and they do not mind. Their bodies could be on display in a carnival, for all they care— what matters is what comes next.
Two twisting beams of light emerge from their bodies, one of each of them. They entwine with each other before rocketing down to the bottom of the ocean; they do not stop once they reach the sand. They penetrate the earth and sink deeper, deeper, deeper. Deeper than mortals can ever go.
The Earth's core opens up for them, and as they enter the fissure their inhuman bodies begin to take shape again. They are no longer falling, they are flying. They see each other and visibly relax, floating towards each other and holding hands. The Devil leads them towards the river, towards the barrier between Earth and Hell, and with a nod of approval from the Angel he pushes them through. There is a deafening crack, jolting both of their bodies— it is a rough entry, but they make it unscathed. They enter a large palace with pristine tile floors and walls covered with art. There is color and life and warmth.
The Devil smiles and stretches his limbs. He is at home. This is normal for him.
The Angel, however, stares straight ahead, unfamiliar with this feeling. He's experienced it in small doses, but it was always fleeting, and it has never been this strong. It envelops him, enters his soul and makes its home there. His whole being sinks into it, and he closes his eyes and lets it take over.
It is bliss. All he knows is euphoria. Paradise.
The Devil placed a hand on the shoulder of his entranced lover and looks to him for approval. The Angel weeps with joy. He is so, so happy.
"It's beautiful."

     Fin