I recommend reading False Prophet by Azazel_Loving. It's a poem that I think really sets the scene to this story and explains the complexity of the Archangel. Thankyou to Azazel_Loving for letting me recommend it.
Thanks, Mynie MacSheff.
Now I'm being serious:
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I was sprinting soundlessly though the busy crowds and seemingly endless streets. No one noticed me as the wind made my blonde curls- hey my hair is short and dirty blond!- fly with eerie grace out of my face. I could feel my face set in determination. I carried on running down the stet and swung round the last corner- the last corner till what?- brushing the hair that couldn't be mine out of my face as I did so. I felt my face, confused, still rocketing down the road. A deep grove cut jaggedly across both cheeks and my short, girly nose? That wasn't there before!
My eyes flickered open and I was back to my usual, guy self. I felt my face for that so similar groove. It wasn't there, stupid dream! I stood up and went to check up on her. I smiled down at her sleeping form, that scar on her face that I had caused. The only time I had ever hurt her, but she didn't know that.
YOU ARE READING
Archangel
FantasyThe Lies Of Jonathan Harper... And The Way He Failed. The title should make sense eventually. Big shout out to makedamnsure for the awesome cover!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
