It was mid-afternoon when WuFan woke up, his eyes unfocused and his palms clammy. The sunlight was streaming in from the window to the right and his fan was batting lazily. He immediately tensed up, and slowly released himself when he realized that he was in his own home and not the in the midst of a fire that slowly devoured him, at his face and scorching his heart. His dream had made his heart thump erratically and he was sure, so sure that he saw the face of an angel glaring at him. The angel had looked up at him, Wufan was in plain agony, yet he seemed tranfixed on the cherubic face in front of him. The man's high cheekbones and porcelain skin had WuFan's jaw open, and his mind wandered away from the tiny flames charring his skin and melting his bones. If this angel was to be the death of him, then it was a blessing. The only mistake that Wufan made was looking up to see eyes, obsidian black eyes filled with hate like no other. Even now, when Wufan was safe in his bed, wrapped up in a cocoon of warmth, he felt chills go down his spine as he recalled the angel smirking like the guardian of hell and Wufan cringed. " You haven't done the world much good, WuFan. It seems like I'm here to avenge it."