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No one knows when the harmless, playful jabs turned into genuine wishes for death and murder. Except Eki. And Box, if he still has an ounce of pride left.
But there is another thing Eki doesn't know. When exactly did he start thinking he wanted the angel to burn? Once upon a time, he longed for his embrace, but now he wants nothing but to break each bone in his body and make him regret that he even came in touch with Eki Eveland.
He doesn't know when the fleeting feelings of floating above the clouds suddenly feels like a sharp needle pricking on his skin. The numbing pain made him itch to reach for the dagger hidden in his coat. It was weird, that Eki would acknowledge, because he learned to live in a world that he wouldn't dare to hurt even the tip of the angel's hair, he was in a world where he would let his blade touch literally anything but Box.
Never Box.
But now it's Box and only Box.
In a harmful way.
In a "I want you six feet under the ground" way.
He wants his arms around him, maybe an embrace. A tight embrace. Around his neck. Taking all his breath away until the angel is nothing but a motionless doll left abandoned on the ground. Eki wants him to bleed, to watch him writhe on the ground, he wants him to feel pain, to scream, to slowly descend to insanity with Eki's own hands.
But there was a suffocating rope around his neck, one that is made of metal and carries a cross that rests on his chest. Eki have the courage to kill a hundred man if he needs to, but he lost all strengths when it comes on taking off this fucking thing. The thing that binds him, the thing that makes him unable to take the next step, the thing that keeps him safe and tight beside Box.
Eki will never be a God nor will he see himself as one. But his lips spilled memorized prayers and praises to God, he learned how to bow his head and intertwine his hands, whispering words he refused to utter before. Yet no matter if he begs for forgiveness or not, no matter if he became as pure as a blooming fragrant flower or not, no matter if he set his mind free of sins and heart free of desires, he probably wouldn't be able to make Box look at him again the same way he did before.
It was a decision made for good.
There was nothing but dead bodies and souls that lay on their feet.
His condolences. But he is already dead to him.
—
Box loved flying, and of course it was accompanied by the love for his wings.
It spreads far and wide, shining with heavenly magic and reflecting the sun's light wonderfully as he soars in the sky. Box loved the feeling of the clouds on his fingertips, the cold yet refreshing air that blows his hair away from his face, the sight of being above everything on Earth. The feeling of being at the top, where no humans could reach him, where no demons could entice him.
Eki was different. He was tainted too much to be human, but not evil enough to be a demon. He shows no mercy for the lives he has taken, yet he showed empathy for people that had grown close to him.
He was a confusing case in Box's eyes. Nothing but to decipher whatever is going on inside his head.
Box never expected that Eki's hands would be warm. He never expected that his passive aggressive jokes and underhanded comments were funny. He never expected Eki to have such a bright soul hidden within, seeing it every time a pair of gentle arms hugged him ever so softly as if Box was a fragile thing that easily breaks. Holding him like Box will fly away from him.
And he did. Box flew away, back up in the skies where he thought he'd be safe. Back up in the skies where he once was free.
Then he realized he loved the cage that trapped him before. He loved that collar that Eki had in his neck, pulling him down each second until he was satisfied Box would never get away from him. He loved being at his mercy.
How did the story go again? Perhaps, Box was the version of Icarus that flew close to the sun intentionally. He no longer felt the excitement for flying, he wanted to feel another kind of thrill in his veins.
He wanted to fall.
And fall he did.
Box refused to show the scars on his back. No one has to know the things he had given up for Eki, and more things he will give up if it means staying close to him. He had no use for wings, he had no use for his good wills.
Being just an angel is enough.
—
“Why are you in such a good mood today?” Eki entered the room first, tray in hand with two cups of tea.
Box took his eyes away from the bright sky outside to the man who just arrived. He offered him a smile, “I just feel like today is going to be a good day.”
“A good day, huh?” Eki placed down the tray and placed one cup on his side. “Tea?” He asked Box, a hint of mischievousness on his face.
But Box has the history of being unable to turn down whatever Eki gave him, so he nodded his head. “If you would be so kind.”
Eki gave him the other cup of tea and blissfully went to sit in front of him. Box waited for him to drink his own, and when he finally saw Eki sipped his drink, Box followed suit.
He could taste the familiar favorite taste mixed with a little spice and a slight kick in the throat. The extra flavor would've been nice if only it wasn't deadly for others who weren't immortal like Box. “So poison is today's agenda? I was expecting a stab in the throat.”
“Don't push your luck, you masochist.” Eki rolled his eyes at him, “It's just a little prank.”
“Quite funny.” Box smiled at him and looked down on the poisoned tea. He takes a sip again, lets the flavor burn his throat for a moment before it disappears.
He tried to leave Eki once, and while he achieved freedom in the end, he did not notice a single string that was still connected to him. There is no way Box could completely cut off Eki from his own life.
And that's when he thought, then so be it.