i exist [as the definition of nonexistence]

I 'd like to see the stars, pt. two

for the thief and his angel, and Sky, who ships them already
~~~

He lunges at you, and it is the sun exploding, glass shattering, worlds colliding. His face is a ferocious mosaic, eyes twin pools of death. You back up against the wall, wanting to run and wanting to stay.You want to plead with him, say you did nothing to him but that would be a lie, and angels recognize lies.

"You."

He stops short, jerked back into place, and as he topples to his knees you see the chains around his ankles. When he finally pulls himself back to his feet you see that his knees are bruised and gold with ichor. And you want to scream because you did this to him. This is your sin, your vain accomplishment. An angel without a voice cannot escape from the Lady.

You weakened him, and why? Because the sound of his voice did something to the cold parts of your heart. Because ever since you saw him you can't seem to forget that his wings looked like sea foam and magic. Because you are weak and terrible and you don't deserve whatever it is you're trying to gain.

He glares at you as you take a step closer. And it burns into your chest. You are too close to the sky, and it's killing you.

"Let me fix this," you murmur, because you're an addict, a masochist, a glutton for punishment. "Let me help you."

He gestures with his hands, fingers long and slender and gold like sunlight. You step closer, closer, and then his hands are around your throat and he is trying to kill you. He might get away with it. You might let him. But then instinct kicks in and you melt away like the shadow you are, back out of his reach and through the wall.

You can still feel his fingers around your throat, and you wish you were stronger but you know you are not.

You scream to the skies, and then you scream a name. You scream until your throat is a raw mess, and you wonder if this is what the angel feels like and it makes you feel worse.

She comes with the final call, and she knows what you needed. The silver chain dangles from her bloody fingertips, mouth a mess of barbed wire and bright pink lipstick.

"You sure are a disaster, aren't you Rook?"

You just take the necklace and tell her too. She's not welcome here, not anymore. Traitors belong to the Lady. She disappears with a wave of her fingers and a cloud of purple smoke, and you turn back to the black prison.

He charges at you again when you enter, and you see the jagged scar on his throat, your handiwork. The chains stop him again and he falls to his knees, and you run forward to kneel in front of him, holding up the necklace.

"I'm trying to help you."

He continues to glare at you as you hold the necklace up to his throat, continues to grip your arms like he's trying to rip them off as the necklace glows silver and gold around his throat. And when the light dims and his voice is back inside him, you immediately scramble to your feet and move away, staring at him as he gets to his feet.

"What is your name, thief?"

"Rook." Your voice is a trembling mess, hands shaking as you clench the empty necklace to your throat.

"I need you to do something for me." His voice is just as lilting and lyrical as you remember, and it makes something rotten swirl in your chest.

"Anything."

"I'd like to see the stars."

"How... How am I supposed to get you out?"

He shakes his head, soft hair shifting around his ears. "In your eyes. Your eyes are the stars. Bright silver and burning balls of fire."

"The heavens are in your eyes."

Impossible.