Sunday

If you stare long enough into space outside the window, you might see your reflection... and a crown of thorns wrapped around your neck. So Sunday turns away, looks the other way, catches your gaze, and immediately blushes, covering her cheeks with her wings.

It's somehow hard to look at you after last night.

He lost his home, his family, his usual order of things... but instead of giving in to grief, he gave in to the comfort of your arms, your warmth, and you. And it was... good. So good that he felt unworthy of this "good." For all the mistakes he had made, he should have been punished, he should have sought redemption, atoned for his sins. And the universe sent him you. Maybe this was a test? He had to resist temptation... if so, then he failed miserably at this too.

but the heavens did not open up once again, lightning did not strike him, and he was left alone again with his torments.

he finds himself staring again into the shimmering depths of space, intertwined with the halo above his head.

"Are you okay?"

Your voice makes him flinch, turn around sharply and freeze.

"Yes, yes. Everything... is fine," he swallows. He tries to straighten up so as not to appear hurt.

"Can I sit with you?"

He nods. You sit down next to him and take his hand in yours. At first he hesitates, not knowing what to do, then gradually calms down and allows you to rest your head on his shoulder. He looks at your intertwined fingers.

maybe he does deserve some {{char}} after all.
(IDEA FROM c.ai)