It was confusing, to say the least, knowing you belong with someone, yet not knowing them. I felt it was like being caught up in an arranged marriage, an arranged marriage you know is going to work out, but which still seems foreign and distant. I had yet to meet my bride.

Or groom, for that matter.

“He dances,” Chanyeol announced as he rolled over the couch, “ballet and jazz, but he’s out to try more styles to broaden his spectrum. He knows it’s hard to do it professionally, so he’s trying his hardest.”

I only listened with a half ear, staring at the news as I thought about him.

There had been something so foreign about his face, an almost divine beauty I could only compare to the looks of the man that hung slumped over the armrest of my couch. He kept yapping on, trying to inform me about my new groom-to-be, if I had to believe him, yet I didn’t feel like listening.

Sure, Jongin had been mesmerising, and it was an honour to be ‘tied’ to him, but somehow I felt like my heart was wandering. I knew I had to stew it forward but it resisted. It resisted the love I was served on a silver platter.

I sighed and groaned, rubbing my eyes. He stopped talking, his dark eyes looking at me with childish curiousity. I glanced at him and swallowed.

He was so beautiful, like Jongin, but so different. Whereas Jongin only seemed to transcend humanity’s boundaries, Chanyeol actually did.

“Chanyeol,” I said, “Tell me something about you.”

He blinked.

“About me?”

I nodded and smiled apologetically, unsure if it was appropriate to ask an angel about their background.

Chanyeol slipped onto the actual seating-area of the couch. He hummed, running a hand through his ginger hair.

“What do you want to know? I bet you’ve heard the stories.”

I chuckled. “You mean the stuff in the bible? Is that true?”

“Well, partially. I mean, some stuff happened, but you know how the bible was written ages after the supposed events happened, right? There’s tons of bias and guessing and just.. people filling in what they think happened instead of keeping to the facts. And this isn’t even unique to just this book, it happened in most historical accounts. Hell, it happens today. And it’s outdated. The world changed. The bible, or any book writing about me and the things I saw contain beautiful, inspiring stories but they should not be taken literally. It’s not a rulebook, it’s a historical account.”

I was a bit stumped by his sudden preaching, not used to this side of him. But I understood what he meant, and I agreed with him. It’d been an issue I’d personally struggled with in my younger years.

“But the things about you? Are they true?”

He laughed. “Some are, some aren’t.”

“Well, what is?” I asked. I sat up a little, enough to watch him roll over the couch and settle for hanging his legs over the backrest. His large eyes stared at me as he hung upside down.

“I have brothers—”

“Like Lucifer?” I blurted out, and I realised I’d made a mistake as his face grew grim. He crossed his arms and stared into space.

I could feel I had ruined the conversation. Brought up the family-secret nobody was allowed and/or willing to talk about.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”, I asked quickly. I snatched the remote off the coffee table and pressed a button to check the available movies for the day.

To my relief, his face lit up and he seemed excited at the prospect of something new. I smiled to myself. Being a patron of communication and media, it was cute to see he lived up to his reputation.

He pulled me onto the couch and loudly decided that he wanted the “movie with the fish”, as he called it. Three minutes of Finding Nemo was enough to have him stare at the screen in disbelief over how real it looked.

“You say that like you regularly go diving.” I commented.

“Well, I’ve been everywhere after all.”

Surprisingly, he was the one who proposed to go to bed afterwards. I had expected him to stay awake all night as I’d head off to sleep. But on the contrary, he seemed tired and genuinely wanted me to join him for the night.

“Do angels sleep?” I asked as he crawled into bed with me, shamelessly wrapping his long arms around my tiny body. He pulled me close and I could feel his ginger hair tickling my forehead.

“Sometimes”, he muttered against my forehead, murmuring as he tried to find a good spot for his arm. He was so close. I hadn’t been held like this in ages.

Chanyeol had been confusing me even since I’d met him. Whenever he touched me, it felt good. It felt comfortable and familiar, as if we’d been married for years. He fascinated me to no extent with the smallest of things he did.

I just couldn’t figure out if it was me, or if it was a natural reaction to an angel.

As I looked at him, seemingly passed out already, my mind wandered back to the conversation of that afternoon. To the subject of his brother, which he seemed highly uncomfortable with.

If what I knew was true, he’d lost his brother because Lucifer had refused to love anyone more than their father. He had resented humans as opposed to his brothers, and had been cast down for this reason.

Basically, Chanyeol had lost his brother because of a love that was too strong.

No wonder he didn’t want to talk about him.

But it made me wonder, if Lucifer had been able to love his father, this meant that angels were capable of love. However, were they capable of loving lesser beings like themselves?

Would an angel love a human?

Would Chanyeol love me back?