In the bustling heart of Tokyo, amidst the neon lights and ceaseless motion, lives Azumi, a woman with a past as luminous as the dawn and as shadowed as the night. Once an angel named Azrael, famed for painting the skies of Heaven, she was banished for her fascination with human emotion, her art deemed too earthly, too empathetic.
"Azumi: The Fallen Angel's Canvas" is a poignant exploration of identity, art, and redemption. Stripped of her wings and divine name, Azumi navigates the complexities of human life, her art becoming her voice, her redemption, and her bridge between two worlds. Through her paintings, she seeks to understand and reconcile the celestial purity with the beautiful chaos of humanity.
From the serene temples of Kyoto to the vibrant chaos of Tokyo, Azumi's journey is one of loss, discovery, and transformation. Each chapter unveils layers of her past, her struggles with the duality of her nature, and her quest for a place where she truly belongs. Her art evolves from an expression of celes
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He'd never met someone with such a bubbly personality. Not to mention the wildness and odd phrases she'd say every five minutes. He hates it. He hates how he can't stay away from it. He hates what she does to him; it's not like him to chase after some girl. She gets under his skin like no other.
She'd never met someone with such a bad attitude. He's ill-mannered and menacing. The glare never seems to leave his face. Considering it all, she can't help but feel the attraction toward him. Dangerous attraction toward a seemingly dangerous man. Maybe it's the tattoos on his arm that gets her attention. Or maybe it's because she can tell there's hope for good under his rough exterior. And she's about to find that, whether he likes it or not.
It's no secret that the two of them are complete and total opposites.
~~~
"You like being called Sugar, don't you?" I tease, placing my toothbrush back after finishing.
He does the same and gives me a side-eyed scowl.
He grips my chin harshly and kisses me. My body temperature raises a good ten degrees and my right leg goes all wiggly. He pulls away.
"You like it when I kiss you, don't you?" He teases the same way I did to him and I'm left blubbering.
"I think both of our questions are rhetorical," I lower my voice up at him. His lip curls up into a smirk.
~~~
*Warning*
This story contains mature themes (language, scenes, etc.)