Michael
Outpost Three. The home of awful personalities. We have a desperate hairdresser, a snobby billionaire, a boring old actress, two sickening lovebirds, etcetera, etcetera. But then theres her. Miss (Y/N). She makes this job a lot harder than it has to be. She adds liability. But seeing her, sleeping peacefully in the bed next to my desk is worth that risk.
I was here to eradicate all of the residents of this outpost, save Ms. Mead of course, but (Y/N) is far too tempting to kill off. Her presence is one of unpredictability, which I normally hate, but I'm just dying to know more. She's not human, I'm sure of that, and I'm desperate for answers.
Her energy is one of power. I don't believe she's a witch, though. She's far more powerful than that coldblooded bitch Cordelia. She's something special. I just don't know what yet. Only time will tell.
I despise her. She's causing me emotions I've never felt before and I just don't know what it is. Its absolutely awful. She's everything I lack. Everything that normally makes me ill in my stomach. How she radiates pureness, her kindness, her innocent eyes. But I love it. Its like a sickeningly sweet drug.
My mind seems to be in a paradox. I want her to stay in her state permanently. Her unadulterated soul untainted by my and my father's temptations. Her warm smile never cold. Her benevolent spirit never failing. Yet my urge to corrupt her remains. Turn all of her fear into lust. Destroy her generosity and replace it with greed. Make her like me. Make her mine.
But this would not be an easy task. She is inhumanly angelic. Her gentle spirit refuses to listen to my rough one. No matter what messages I whisper in her ear, her nature remains pristine. Perfect. Untouchable.
She's a wonder, that girl. I'd like nothing more than to have her by my side, as my queen of the New World, and I'm not giving her a choice.
YOU ARE READING
Angel - (Michael Langdon X Reader)
Fanfiction"Why are you crying, Sweetheart?" "I don't want to die" "Of course you don't, dear"
