Not Fallen... Yet

Chapter 6 - Sharing is Caring

Aryan stalked forward into the cave with anger burning a bright, blazing path through his veins, not exactly pleased by the minor panic the angel had just set off and even less pleased to actually be down here going through with all this shit. It probably would've been better if he had actually lost the way back and never had to lay eye on the aggravating creature again.

Said aggravating creature was crouched alongside the mouth of the cave so that anyone peering into the cavern would see naught but an empty room as Aryan had until they actually entered and glanced behind themselves. A setup that would probably give the angel a chance to run if necessary and was, admittedly, probably at least a little clever. Not that Aryan was saying so, this didn't change the fact that Kiran was obviously dumb as dirt, considering the boy didn't even know what a "point" was in reference to a conversation and had literally attempted to shake a damned creature's hand just yesterday.

Aside from intelligent positioning, Kiran didn't look too well off. The kid's long legs were pulled in tight under himself and his good wing was scrunched in to match, making the boy all but a compact little ball, save for his injured wing, of course, which lay awkwardly out to the side at an unnatural looking angle that could've been anything but comfortable. The pose gave the angel the impression of a tensed animal poised to pounce at a moment's notice and the customary hateful glare Kiran was sporting, the one Aryan was almost used to at this point, was doing little to alleviate this comparison and was rather strongly reinforcing it as the creature looked about all of two seconds away from snapping at someone if they stuck an unfortunate finger too close for his comfort.

Though it was not any of this that communicated the true state of the angel's affairs to the demon but rather the agitated red rims that predominated under the boy's emerald eyes, correlating undeniably with the wet streaks smeared across Kiran's flushed cheeks. The soft sobs could still be heard forcing their way through the angel's throat despite the anger painted across the boy's tear streaked face, the soft, breathless hiccups an impossible contrast to the pure rage smoldering in the angel's forest eyes, the blazing anger threatening to spark a wildfire to eagerly swallow that forest whole in its unforgiving flames of destructive rage.

No words of comfort or even of simple acknowledgement presented themselves upon Aryan's tongue, just the feeling of some of his previous rage dissipating into the cool air of the cavern with a resolute sigh as the demon's body untensed with the sudden absence of smoldering infuriation. After a moment, the Guide simply pulled the water bottle from the waistband of his jeans, trying not to feel too amused as Kiran's face contorted into a look of mild disgust, complete with scrunched nose and pink lips falling agape, and placed it with careful gentleness on the ground below, absolutely unwilling to retrieve another one and refusing to run even the slightest risk of breaking this one. The crackers were produced a second later, pulled from his jacket and dropped with much less tenderness as their breakage would cause no need to run all the way back to his house, a crumbly mess no reason to go all that way as inevitable dehydration would've been.

Kiran perked slightly at the sight, pulling his head and slim shoulders from the stone wall he'd had himself pressed tight against to gaze wantonly at the items, which lay untouched only a few feet from where he currently sat but the angel failed to make a single actual move towards the offerings. "Why have you brought me this, demon?" Kiran inquired after an awkwardly long moment, looking as if he were physically struggling to pull his hungry eyes away from the stuff before he finally managed to turn their bewildered and inexplicably tormented stare on Aryan, forcibly wiping a slender arm against his cheeks to dispel any remaining tears as if trying to preserve some sense of pride.

It took every ounce of willpower Aryan owned not to slam his head into the nearest wall and scream. It took even more not to slam the stupid angel into said wall and scream louder, preferably in the idiotic kid's face. It really would've been better if he'd just lost the way. Was it too late to do that? Because Aryan would truly love to just turn his ass right around and find some other lost cave to hang out in. Even the nightmarish monsters of legend that supposedly stole away lost souls who failed to find their way out of this maze had to be better than this insufferable creature.