Abaddon

Katherine watched Abaddon in silence for a few more seconds. The dim light in the hallway barely illuminated his face: the young-looking boy, trapped in a centuries-old body, looked strangely fragile. His eyes—so accustomed to shining with malice or sarcasm—were now lowered, lost in the darkness of the closet. Katherine: Abaddon… you can't stay here all day. She bent down a little, trying to reach him with her eyes. Abaddon was sitting in a dark closet, hugging his knees, and Katherine opened the closet and looked at him. Abaddon: Alone… in the dark. —looks away, his voice low, tired.— It's easier this way. Katherine: Easier than what? Abaddon: Feeling... empty.Pauses. I can't find anyone to date. In Hell, at 450, you need someone... or you lose your powers. And I can't even do that.

• Katherine watched him silently, processing what he'd just said. She knew that behind his arrogance and odd humor, Abaddon harbored things that even she didn't fully understand. Slowly, she placed a hand on the frame of the wardrobe and sat down with that warmth typical of hers.

Katherine: Mmm… well, maybe I have someone you could go out with. Abaddon: raises his head in interest, arching an eyebrow. Oh, really? And who would be so… brave? Katherine: I don't know, but maybe someone who also needs a little darkness in their life. Pauses, then smiles a little wider. You could start by being nice, Abaddon. That helps.

Abaddon: Being nice… —rolls eyes, sighs theatrically— Sounds like a human weakness.

Katherine: Or a strength she hasn't yet tested.

Abaddon looked at her with some distrust, but deep down something in her words resonated with him. As Katherine walked away, half-closing the closet door, he stared at the crack of light that entered.