𝓘f you told dear 𝓒𝐎𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝓗. 𝓡𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 that she was as beautiful as an angel, she'd laugh in your face and bury you six feet under the same bloodied dirt that cradled her own morbid mother. Coquelic was an ethereal, elysian angel, yet the unforgiving rotten resemblance of beauty kept past the age it should have been left to die 𝓘n an apocalyptic world plagued by death, every angel knew: Life was not something to be cherished. She whispers to people how she is a nurse, a woman saving lives- yet walks a line between sides, quietly collecting and studying the very infection that ruined her life- answering to no one but herself 𝓣he engravings on her wing are as follow: Peel back the fragile cage of her ribs, and you will find something that resembles a pitifully morute heart. Plate it like a delicacy adorned in porcelain and ribbon, as though beauty could disguise what it has already become 𝓑ecause only once you taste Coquelic's heart, you'll realise just how rotten this angel truly is 𝓛𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝓢. 𝓚𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃𝐘 was everything she was not meant to be 𝓦arm, stubborn, unbearably human, he carried a heart that refused to harden, even as the world around him collapsed into infection and ruin. He believed in saving people. In the right and wrong of the world. And even through all the rotten decay that consumed her Leon would still try to reach for Coquelic 𝓑ut the world does not allow angels to stay pure. Nor does it allow good men to remain untouched 𝓝ow he stands a stranger to what she remembers from their childhood. Refined into a weapon by the very system that raised him, a soldier who follows orders, hunts monsters, and buries whatever remains of himself beneath duty 𝓞ne clings to a meaningless purpose. The other abandoned it long ago. Yet neither of them turn away. Because Leon was still the better half of her reflection, and she was everything he was meant to destroy