fallen angel | yoonmin

ii. before his world fell down

❀

Her name had been Aejeong, that much he remembers the clearest. She had been his next task— He did not intend for it to go as far as it did.

Yoongi had only one job as the eldest son of Cupid— go in, finish the given task, and leave. That was the way it had been as long as he could remember. Yoongi never once struggled with a task, even when he was starting out.

All of the Children of Paradise knew about him, not just his House of Cupid. Min Yoongi, the most efficient at his craft in the whole of Paradise. He was the last that would ever be caught loving anyone, especially a human.

The rules made it sparkling clear: No son or daughter from the House of Cupid shall ever fall in love. Especially not on a task. Love was a weakness, especially to those most susceptible to it. Unlike common assumptions, their sensitivity to emotion made them the most heartless of all Houses. They were required to be so. If they were not, they would fail their task. Failure was never tolerated.

They were not apathetic, just immune to affection.

Or, at least, most of them.

Every being knew, even the humans, who romanticized the forbidden concept to an admissible cliche in their land. If any child were to ever fall in love on a task, there was a frighteningly large chance they would follow their heart, as humans put it. Love was powerful— the biggest threat to Children of Cupid.

Yoongi's task had been easy, easier than most.

That was before the complications.

He was to descend to the Underland and make Park Aejeong fall in love with her destined, Park Hanbyul.

It was purely accidental, the pain in his wing, piercing his shoulderblade as if someone had shot him with an arrow of Cupid. The experience had been terrifying, to say the least, plummeting from the Gate and through a hundred clouds, all while extending his left wing, trying to undo the knot of pain thrumming within it.

Maybe fifteen feet above the ground, he stretched his wings to full length, allowing himself to fall into a messy glide. Although his destination was in a prickly briar, he supposes it is better than death.

Yoongi drags himself from the thorny brambles, wincing when they cling onto his skin. He prayed that the Paradise blessing had hidden his appearance from any unwanted eyes. Yoongi thinks of the headlines recalling to a falling object from the sky that looked oddly human and grimaces. He would hate to expose his people's existence to all of humanity.

Crying out painfully, he vanishes his wings in a hurry, a process that should be done slowly. He hates every second of the feathers and knuckles of bone retreating back under his raw skin. 

It's in that moment that he first met her.

"Oh my god," he hears, and already he judges negatively on the overused phrase. Yoongi searches for the owner of the voice, eyes landing on a short girl wearing a flowing pink sundress patterned with green dots. She holds a bundle of crocuses and yellow daffodils on her left arm. "Are you alright?"

Yoongi wonders how she can see him with the Paradise blessing before recognizing her from her portfolio, the same one that he had been reading earlier that morning.

She was his task.

She bore the same slanted eyes, sleek black hair braided over her right shoulder, and an oddly-shaped birthmark on her exposed tan collarbone.

Aejeong.

It is convenient that he fell right to her.

"Oh, no, I'm quite alright," he says, accepting her extended hand. He notices that it is rough like it had been exposed to much manual work. Then he catches the scent of the flowers in her arms and guesses that she is a gardener. He brushes the thorns from his white blouse. "There was a birds nest up the tree and— oh, do I love birds," he explains, faux excitement adorning his voice. "I didn't mean to fall."