Untouchable

"In The Beginning"

When God created Jareriel, he blessed him with the power of knowledge. Jareriel always was extremely smart. He was so intelligent yet so naive and gullible. God, on the contrary, created Damien with curiosity. The old saying goes, "Curiosity killed the cat". In this case, curiosity made the angel fall to the depths of Hell. Jareriel lived his life out as an angel, happily and free. He had forgotten about Damien. Though he had been forgotten, Damien remembered Jareriel. When he saw Jareriel in the streets of 1789 France, his heart fluttered. He realized though that the heavenly little angel had gotten caught in the riot heading towards the Bastille.

"Ah shit!" Damien cursed as he rushed to the fleeing mob.

Damien made his way through the angry crowd and pulled Jareriel out of the war path. Jareriel clung to the helpful stranger for dear life as he yanked him from evil's hands. Jareriel panted loudly, looking down at his feet.

Damien said fiercely, "Watch yourself, angel"
He slid his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose. This was Jareriel's first time seeing the eyes, the eyes he fell head over heels with.

"T-Thank you!" Jareriel shouted gleefully.

Damien was filled with overwhelming rage. He pushed Jareriel against the brick wall, noses almost touching.

"Do NOT thank me. I'm not nice!" He released him and stormed off, going who knows where to create a heap of trouble.

Jareriel watched as the man dressed in all black but in timely fashion. That saunter, sexy and free, aroused the angel's interest. He hoped to see the demon again.

106 years later, a demon found himself searching the rubble of a disastrous train crash for the delicate angel that he desired. Tears filled the frames of his glasses as he did everything in his power to forgive himself. He had no clue that Jareriel was on the train until after he spotted the cherub sat with a cup of tea in one of the last passenger cars.

"Deary me, what has happened?" Jareriel muttered lowly, pushing rubble from his legs.

Damien rushes towards him, pulling him to his feet.

"This was your doing, you scoundrel!" Jareriel shouted.

"So what? You are gonna report me to Hell?" He hissed.

Jareriel's eye welled with tears as he turned towards the train tracks and paced his way along them.

"You forgot your bag!" Damien shouted, slipping his glasses off to expose his puffy, red face.

Jareriel just continued walking until he was out of the sight of Damien. Damien peeked inside the mysterious bag. It was filled with many works of romantic fiction. Damien carried the bag back to the home he was staying in at the time. He sat at the dark crimson desk and began to read. The words flowed off the page and into the mind of the demonic entity. He hated reading but these words had been read over and over by his angel. He continued to read for hours upon hours, loving every romantic moment and envisioning the lovely man reading with him.

Damien shook his head and closed the book he had been on, "Fuck me! I can't love an angel!"