The Rolling Stones Imagines

||He's An Angel!||

 'He's An Angel!'

[An AU in which Brian is a sweet, innocent, and confused fallen Angel, while the reader is more grumpy. That's all I want to give away otherwise I'll give away the entire plot!]

Warning: Yeah, it does contain some semi religious stuff, but then again we're talking about angels that fell from Heaven so like, it's kinda expected. And no, it shouldn't make anyone feel uncomfortable.

The shrill sound of an out of tune clarinet filled the air. The clarinet sounded flat, and awefully airy. It didn't sound good at all. 

"Aw come on!" You pulled away from your clarinet and glared at it. "Why can't I play this stupid thing! It's been four years since I started playing, and yet I still haven't gotten any better!" 

It was around 3:47 on a Monday. You decided to stay behind in the band room after school so that you could get a little more practice on your clarinet because it was clearly needed. You weren't all that great at playing the clarinet, and you had slight anger issues/ was usually very grumpy and that often lead you to give up so easily after something was deemed 'too hard' for you. Playing clarinet was deemed 'too hard' for you, and yet you played it anyways.

 You took one deep breath, and then exhaled sharply before starting to play the clarinet again. You had been playing your clarinet for nearly two hours, and you were starting to get very exhausted. You had decided to run through the song one last time and call it a day. But you couldn't get through half of the song because you heard a very, very loud noise outside. 

The noise sounded almost like a thunderclap, and it even shook the ground a little bit. "What the heck was that!" You exclaimed while standing up and setting your clarinet down. You went to check out what had just happened. What if some sort of bomb dropped or something else of the sort? If one did, then you would be screwed. 

 Your band director wasn't in the band room. He was probably off in the school doing who knows what, so it would probably be safe to check out whatever happned outside without getting caught. 

You walked over to the big steel doors that lead from the basement to outside. The doors were heavy, but you pushed them open with a bit of effort. A burst of warm spring air hit your face. It was certaintly refreshing after spending so much time in the hot and stuffy band room. 

After walking out of the small alley way, you were standing ontop of a small grassy and flowery hill. There was no stark black bomb peeking out of the grass, nor was there anything "exciting" like that. The sky was a light blue color and was dotted with puffy white clouds. The sun shone like there was no tomorrow. If there was some sort of nloud noise from thunder, well there wouldn't be. It was too nice of a day for that to occur. 

 You peered around at even more small hills that were around, and even the parking lot. There was still nothing. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. Thinking there was nothing there, you started to head back inside. But soon you stopped in your tracks and looked over slowly towards the edge of the woods which was to your right. 

 Something was smoking, and whatever it was, it must've made the noise. 

You bit your lower lip nervously while slowly making your way towards the smoking figure. Once you got close enough, you realized that it really was a figure that was smoking. It was a boy around your age who had burn marks all over himself. He was curled up into a ball, and was learly scared. Poor guy. Normally you would've thought that burn marks were strange, but that took second place when you saw what else he had.

Splayed to his sides, there was pure white feathered wings, and at the tips of them some of his primary feathers had scorch marks and were blackened. A few charred feathers were also laying about the scene.