Azazel sat amongst the grass. The soothing air grazed his hair. His wings would flutter and twitch every now and then as he spoke to the baby deer that was right infront of him whom he’d been feeding berries

“The waters.. look very clear today.. and the sky looks just as pretty as the water,, the clouds look like hearts dont they?”

The deer itself has no particular interest in what he was saying, only wanting to nom on the berries Azazel provided it.

“On a unrelated note.. I heard there was a thing going around.. It seems some angels have a fear of heights and flying.. isnt that just..”

Azazel would just chuckle to himself at the thought as his words trailed off watching as the deer look at him finishing the berries it was just munching on. Azazel looked right back at it, he just thought to himself. I mean look at him he was sitting here.. talking to a deer who didnt even care what he had to say, its so silly. 

He lifted himself from the ground dusting off his hands. His wings would flutter behind him slightly taking his feet off the ground as he yawned. 

Nearby the grass crunched. Foot steps approaching which caught Azazel’s intention indefinitely before he turned back realizing who it was.

Cyrus Sigertem.. Cyrus for short, he had curly red hair that matched his tan tone and the dotted messy freckles all over his face a face that held the most annoying smile ever. He was head of a royal family and was Azazel’s brother.

“Wooww.. Look who decided to show their face. Cyrus Sigertem the great.” Azazel spoke whilst crossing his arms. He was able to hear Cyrus’s laughs playing out infront of him.

Azazel watched as Cyrus approached, unable to shake the lingering feelings of envy and insecurity. It seemed no matter what, Cyrus was always the more popular brother - and for what? His honey-colored hair that was only slightly darker than Azazel's? His royal blue eyes that shone like the ocean at night? That infuriatingly charming dimpled smile, paired with skin a shade more tanned?

Azazel twisted a lock of hair around his finger, frowning as he considered his own features - just one dimple, eyes often mistaken for plain brown. Why was he born with less?

"Azazel," Cyrus smiled, though there was an edge of mockery in his tone.

"Cyrus," Azazel replied coolly. His eyes followed the retreating deer before returning to his brother. Hanging his head, he waited for the inevitable barrage of criticism.

Cyrus laughed loudly. "C'mon, what's with the long face? You look like you swallowed a bug." He opened his arms expectantly.

Stepping back, Azazel avoided the hug. Cyrus' smile faded in surprise, wings fluttering.

"Woah, don't miss your little bro that much?" he chuckled, raising a brow. "Ever heard of loosening up?"

Azazel nearly tuned out Cyrus' words, gaze drifting to the endless flower patch for respite. "Of course I don't miss you," he muttered. Why must Cyrus always remind him of his own flaws?