LILITH | DEAN WINCHESTER [ ✓ ]

40. love story

◖𓈈﹗ ﹙ forthy ﹚
❛ ▬▬ LOVE STORY. . . ❜

Judas had taken her out of bed when the sky still had stars shining and the great natural satellite began its gradual disappearance. In the warmth of the bed, she was leaving behind a boyfriend who needed her and had made her the promise to greet him with a kiss in the morning, remembering the words she had uttered so carelessly for hours. Lilith was immersed in infatuation rooted in weakness. Dorian had shown her his most fragile and vulnerable side; he needed a girlfriend who would be there to remind him that he was loved, and that was something Lilith identified with: she fell in love with the love they professed to her. The words and gestures, the kisses in front of everyone, and the fierce and shameless touching. Maybe she didn't love him then, and maybe she didn't love him now, she didn't know, and there was little reflection she gave; but the only thing she felt real had been the 'I love you unconditionally' expressed by Dorian over and over again, like Mom loved her, unconditionally. Absolute, forever, no matter what she did, Dorian would love her. Lilith needed him and she told him over and over again; she hoped they were enough for him to never forget because her journey was going to be tumultuous.

They appeared in the study hall of hell. A cordial hello was all that came out of her lips, as if she had forgotten the intimate contact they had. She observed, seeking answers; her black eyes were distracted and alert, her hand firmly holding a shiny silver dagger. It was the first time she had seen it.

"Are you not going to tell me what is happening?" the woman asked. The queen of hell wasn't expecting her with her hands behind her back and her pearly hair falling down her back. "Definitely something happened, didn't it? Dean, right?" she teased playfully.

"Yes, we had a horrible night. An angel entered without permission and took him, killing a dozen demons. A stir has arisen; the demons expect security," Judas became nervous when problems attacked the queen of hell; she was a loyal right hand. That was the feeling she perceived, contrasting with the legend of her name. "There is not much we can do against them; we have few of these," she showed the dagger she was holding. "It's an angel's sword, it's one of the few weapons that can kill angels."

"Where can I get one?"

Judas handed it to her carefully, as if it were one of the most important objects. It wasn't heavy. Lilith had had frail hands lately and had lost a lot of strength over the past half year, and such simple things seemed heavy to her, but the dagger was light and firm, made of a material similar to metal and, at the same time, different; it was extremely sharp and had a triangular blade.

"From the angels, they have them. God gives one to each angel when they are created. Lilith has stolen some from the angels she has been killing."

"Would that kill Uriel?" The woman returned the weapon, although she would have liked to be its owner.