Michael tried to push himself upright, but the moment his weight settled on his right leg, he hissed through clenched teeth and nearly toppled forward. "Easy, easy." I said, catching him before he could fall. His body trembled beneath my hands. Mud streaked his hair and face, and the lamplight of the devils' abandoned torches caught in his eyes.. His eyes are too wide, too startled for someone so young. "My leg.." He winced, the word barely more than a breath. "Don't move," I whispered. My own voice quivered despite my effort to sound steady. I brushed away a smear of dirt from his cheek with the back of my hand, then crouched lower to inspect the injury. His trousers were torn at the knee; already a deep, ugly bruise bloomed beneath the skin.
"It's not broken," I murmured, more to myself than to him. "Just bruised. You'll be okay."
Michael lowered his gaze, biting down on whatever pain clawed at him. For a while, the night was only the sound of our breathing and the occasional rustle of the wind through the ruined trees. Angelica stood a little apart, her wings dimmed to a ghostly shimmer, watching the darkness where Lucy had vanished. I wrapped an arm around Michael's shoulders and helped him lean against me. His weight felt unfamiliar, heavier than when we were children, yet something in that closeness ached with memories I'd tried to forget. "You scared me," I said softly. The words escaped before I could catch them. "When he grabbed you… I thought—" My throat tightened. Michael shifted, glancing sideways at me. "I'm fine.." he said quickly, almost defensively. His voice cracked anyway. I managed a small, brittle smile. "You always say that." He gave a faint shrug, his arm tightening slightly around my back as if he feared I might let go. "You never… ask," he muttered, barely audible. The quiet that followed pressed between us, thick and awkward. We had never been the kind of siblings to spill our hearts in words. Too many years of distance had left only careful silences and half-spoken thoughts.
"I'm asking now," I said finally. Michael hesitated. " I … thought you'd choose him." The confession struck me like a sudden gust of cold air. "I almost did," I admitted, my voice low. "And I hated myself for even thinking it. But you're my brother. I could never—" My words faltered, tangled in the knots of everything left unsaid. He looked away, blinking hard. "I know.." For a moment, neither of us spoke. The night seemed to soften, the wind carrying only the distant echo of Bell's fading laughter. Angelica stepped closer at last, her voice quiet but firm. "We can't stay here." I nodded. "Cmon. Let's go " Together, Angelica and I each took one of Michael's arms. He winced as he stood, but his jaw tightened and he made no sound. Slowly, carefully, we began to walk—three silhouettes moving through the ruined clearing, seeking what little shelter the darkness might offer. Behind us, the mud bore the imprint of our knees and Lucy's, a silent reminder of the choice that had been made. And so, the three days now ticking away like a heartbeat in the dark.
— We wandered around carelessly in hopes of a shelter. But we came across the old market where, if i remember, was a one hellish cramped place. But the market had long since died. Shadows clung to the crooked stalls where once merchants had hawked spices and silks. Now only splintered wood and broken lanterns remained, their glass teeth catching stray moonlight. The air smelled faintly of rust and rain, old blood and forgotten storms. We found a narrow alcove behind a collapsed fruit stand, half-walled by overturned crates. It wasn't much, but it was dark, and for now, dark was safety. Michael sank onto a pile of burlap sacks with a soft groan. The bruise on his leg had swollen to a deep violet, but exhaustion had claimed him. His head soon tilted sideways, lashes brushing his cheeks as sleep pulled him under.
Angelica stood near the broken archway, her pale wings furled tight, eyes scanning the street beyond. She was meant to keep watch alone, but the thought of leaving her there, silent, a lone figure against the dark, tightened something inside me. "I'll join you," I whispered, stepping lightly to her side. "You should rest" she said without looking back. "So should you." I countered. My voice surprised me: steadier than I felt. Angelica exhaled, a soft sigh that might have been reluctant acceptance. She didn't argue again. We stood there for a while, the market breathing around us in creaks and distant whispers of wind. I glanced at Michael's sleeping form, a small silhouette folded in shadow. My chest ached, heavy with everything I had swallowed for years.
"He means everything to me." I said quietly.
Angelica turned her head slightly, just enough for me to catch the faint gleam of her eyes. "My brother," I continued. "It's… it's more than blood. He's the one piece of my life that still feels like home. When the world fell apart, he… he lifted something in me without even knowing it." The words trembled as they left me; I hadn't meant to spill so much.I "I love him," whispered, almost ashamed of how small the words sounded compared to the weight behind them. "More than I can ever say."
Angelica's gaze softened. "He's lucky." she said simply. I let out a shaky breath, half a laugh. "Sometimes I think I'm the lucky one." Silence settled between us again, the kind that feels almost gentle. But when I looked more closely at Angelica, the moonlight caught her face in an unexpected way. She seemed… distant. Her shoulders carried a quiet heaviness, a melancholy that the silver glow only deepened. "You look so gloomy," I said before I could stop myself. Her head snapped slightly, startled. "Gloomy?"
"Yes." I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. "For someone who just saved us, you look like the sky before a storm." I tilted my head, curiosity sparking. "What does Lucy mean to you?" Angelica froze. A faint color crept across her cheeks. She tried to turn away, but the blush spread, betraying her even in the dim light. Her wings twitched, a soft rustle of feathers like a sudden breeze. "I—I…" She glanced anywhere but at me: the shattered stall, the moonlit cobblestones, the distant darkness. "I.." Her voice caught, flustered and breathless. "That's… not… I mean.." Her blush deepened until even the pale moonlight could not hide it. And for the first time that night, the weight in the air shifted, not lighter, not heavier, but different. A quiet warmth stirred beneath the cold silence of the ruined market. "He's.. My soulmate.." Words slipped out of her sweetly. As a tint of romance filled her chest. I've always thought that they've belonged to eachother, it seems, this time, fate and i agreed on one thing.