The silence was overbearing.
Simeon tried to speak, tried to say something, but he found that words had deserted him.
He couldn't bring himself to move, either.
He could only see your figure out of the corner of his eye in his peripheral vision, and from the way your breath hitched, it was clear that you were just as terrified as the angel himself.
The only sound echoing through the halls was the steady rhythm of Father's footsteps as he walked away.
How? Simeon wondered, shocked tears building in his eyes.
He couldn't even bring himself to blink them away.
How could it have come to this?
His plan had been perfect.
As perfect as it could get, really.
The day the student exchange program ended, he brought you up to the Celestial Realm and presented you before Father in hopes that the god would be willing to make you an angel.
Make you a part of the heavens. Give you both the right to love each other.
Or was that all just wishful thinking?
The angel let out a garbled sound, something halfway between a protest of anger and a wail of distress, but Father didn't even stop in his footsteps.
"I am sorry, my child," The god repeated.
Yet Simeon could not detect an ounce of sadness in his voice.
"But this human has corrupted you. Neither of you are fit to prosper in the heavens."
There they are, Simeon thought.
Those words again.
He closed his eyes, remembering the first time Father had said them.
It was the night when Lucifer had lost the Great Celestial War.
Father's final words to the seven remaining siblings, right before he banished them.
And now, they had become the words Father was using to tell Simeon of his own banishment.
The angel would have remained silent had you not managed to squeeze his hand gently, brushing your thumb against his knuckles three times where your fingers remained intertwined.
Three taps.
Three words.
The angel felt his heart further break, beginning to understand the severity of the situation.
I love you.
"F-Father," The angel began, trembling. It didn't sound like his own voice.
He was so used to sounding strong. Confident.
Brave.
As he heard his voice, though, he sounded like a meek child.
"Surely, you do not…"
"I do." The god retorted swiftly.
"You came to me asking for my blessing such that you would spend the rest of your life loving this human." Simeon felt you flinch at the disdain in Father's voice, and he gripped your hand tighter.
"And so the rest of your lives you shall spend together."
The god disappeared, fading into the air—and then the holy halls of God were no more, and you and Simeon were falling, falling, falling.
