F A L L E N | k.th

Two | రెండు

Taehyung studied the address in his hand, twisting the sheet between his fingers until he formed a fist, and banged against the door that matched the details. The folds of paper pressed against the inside of his palms, but he ignored the peculiar sensation.

Normally, as a superior form, he was immune to the influences of the physical planet occupied by humans, but he'd brushed off the persistence of God who assured him she'd be able to be 'hurt' him because of his 'permanence'. What kind of logic was that anyway?

Earth was one of the rarities where Taehyung could be considered superior, and those he had to condemn were his inferiors. The power the angel craved was beyond belief, and it was this want and need that was slowly consuming him, and ultimately diminishing his reputation - however small it may have been to begin with.

The response to the door was long winded, and Taehyung kicked his foot against the bottom of the divider to try and gain more attention from whoever was waiting inside. He could hear shuffles and the small clatter of some form of cutlery, but he didn't pay any mind to what may have been occuring.

"Oi," he growled, patience wearing thin as he became less willing to perform this task, especially if it was this achingly boring. Footsteps travelled to the opposite side of the door, and merely stood there; Taehyung was honestly sick of this, so he proceeded to smash against the door in an effort to make the stranger open it in haste, the bang echoing loud and harsh.

〰〰〰

The bang resonated through your scruffy apartment as you sought for a way to hide the rusted knife, settling on stuffing it in a back pocket incredibly carefully, so as not to stab yourself by accident. You grumbled, maintaining steady ground as you heard the individual whisper complaints and dubious threats from behind the door.

It was likely another person addicted to several of the substances you sold - possibly schizophrenic by the sounds of it - but you refused to let yourself succumb to the tragic death of a dealer stabbed by some messed up soul; so you peeked through the peep hole, examining the body that resided there and glaring at his clothing, it was too clean to be of anyone so deprived, but it wasn't a suit - so he wasn't one of the higher ups.

Suddenly your eyes clashed, and his arms leant against the peeling wood of its exterior, resting his face awfully close to the looking glass, "Open up," he mumbled, reeling back to give you ample opportunity to follow through with his instruction. You did so, but not before securing the top chain of the door to prevent him bursting in at any moment.

The door slid open, and your head hovered behind the crack just far away enough so that he couldn't grab you, "What do you want?" The man was visibly taken aback by the way you spat your accusing words at him, but then his face transitioned to an indescribable smirk as he leant on the door, "Why don't we find out together, huh?"

Your studies had evidently not been thorough enough, because your scrutiny had failed to make you aware of the additional limbs protruding from his back, and you nodded as soon as you noticed them, unwinding the chain and opening the entrance completely, "Jesus Christ, when will they learn that I don't need a guardian..." You sighed out, frustrated that you'd have to bear with another one until you could catch him off guard and finish him off.

The angel was shocked, a lack of filter in his expression as he stared back in awe, "You've had one before?" He questioned.
"Six, to be precise," you sneered, assessing his feathers with an equal lack of understanding as the man before you, "But never one with faded wings, what's that about?" He span on his heels, features held in ambiguity, "Don't you worry your little head about it, sweetheart," he hummed, smiling back.

"Don't 'sweetheart' me, I'm not some ditz that's weak to all your angel pheromones," you waved a hand out at him, rolling your eyes and slyly returning the knife to the sink, knowing well you'd have to take him by surprise in order to overpower him, "Now spill."