❝fallen angels are destined for little else but raising hell.❞
[dark angel!5sos au]
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cw: this book contains strong language, descriptions of blood/gore, supernatural occurrences, mild sexual content, talk of various religions, drug/substance abuse...
She's into superstitions, Black cats and voodoo dolls, I feel a premonition, That girl's gonna make me fall.
Livin' La Vida Loca; Ricky Martin
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✞
Eden's despairing gasp cuts through the silent night and the stagnant apartment. Her manicured hands find her throat, almost as if checking her own pulse. She feels her pumping heartbeat through the skin. She drops her hands as her chest heaves in strained breathing. Her lilac-colored sheets crumple over and over between her anxious fingers as she tries desperately to remember that fleeting image from her nightmare.
Fire and broken glass.
That was all there was.
She knew there was more. There had to be. But whatever that image was, it was just out of her reach, fading with every passing second.
"That's three nights in a row," comes a soft voice from her doorway.
"Fuck, Michael. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Eden's chest slowly regains its normal breathing pattern as she turns to face her best friend as he leans against the doorframe.
Michael sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows as if to ask if he can enter the fear filled room. Eden nods once, ashamed to meet his gaze any longer. The sheets continue to crumple and twist.
God, why can't she remember? Why can't she sleep through the night?
"Was it the same one?" Michael slowly walks into Eden's bedroom, sitting at the foot of her bed. She sits up slowly, letting out a long breath through her nose and closing her eyes. Searching through the darkness for that damn image, she ends up unsuccessful, and she opens her eyes.
He stares with platonic love for her, patiently waiting for her to calm down and discuss her dream with him. When she hesitates further, he chuckles gently and holds out his palm to her. Taking her best friend's hand, without fail, seemed to help her thoughts flow more clearly, for some reason. His rings press gently and cold into her skin. She shivers and closes her eyes once again.
"Something is on fire," She whispers, commenting on the vision in her head as carefully as possible, her voice barely above a whisper, "it looks like some sort of banner."
"Can you make out anything on this banner? Or is it blank?" Michael's thumb swirls soft, protective circles across the back of her palm.
"It's not blank...I just can't tell what these symbols are..." Eden's voice falters, flickering into a deeper octave near the end of her sentence.
"How many symbols are there?" His pale green eyes seem to spark, glowing like embers in the pit of a just-extinguished fire.
"Four. The one on the bottom is burned away already though, so I can't be sure." Eden's eyes strain, staying closed with effort.
