Alistair looked at the cocooned angel, and his heart softened, almost melting.
Despite his earlier abrupt departure, he was not angry with Tristan. How could he be angry with someone so pure, kind and impossibly beautiful? Rather, he was just a little perturbed at being in contact with divine light again.
He thought he hated the divine light after having fallen for so long. But when Tristan used his light on him, it did not feel vile. It did not even have a hint of Him. It just felt like he was taking in a whiff of Tristan's pure essence into his soul.
It was exhilarating. It was addictive.
He had never felt so complete as in that moment, even when he lived in heaven as an exalted archangel.
And he wanted more… He wanted to take deep gulps of Tristan and swallow him whole. His thoughts were a little strange even for him, the fallen angel who was given the title of the devil. His hunger, his greed…
They were too deep.
If he had not left then, he was afraid of what he would have done to the beautiful and innocent angel. He did not want to hurt Tristan. Yes, he wanted to have the angel in every way, but he did not want to harm him.
So, he had to leave.
He knew his reaction to Tristan was not normal. It was even a little disturbing considering he had just met him. Yet, he could not shut down his strange instincts to possess the pure angel, even though he did not deserve to touch him.
He squatted beside Tristan yet another time and touched the soft, golden hair on Tristan's head with his large hand. It felt like he could cover it completely. He wanted to do that and shield him from everything.
He wanted Tristan to only know him and ignore the rest of the world.
"Alistair…" Tristan lifted his head from between his wings and looked up.
The beautiful cheeks were covered with tears, and his eyes looked even brighter with the watery sheen. Alistair thought he would die then. He thought he knew heaven until he looked at the perfect creature.
It was not only the beauty.
It was the dependence, trust and hope in Tristan as he looked at him.
Chan knew he did not deserve it because Tristan had just imprinted on him like a little duck in a strange new world. But he did not care. All he knew was that he wanted that look to belong to him and him alone.
"What shall I do with you, sweet angel?" Chan asked with an indulgent voice.
The devil inside him knew what he wanted to do with him. He wanted to see those tears again on his face, but in a different scenario. He wanted to make Tristan cry, but with desperate pleasure.
However, the less unhinged part of him liked being soft with Tristan. He wanted to take care of him, wrap him in a soft blanket and cuddle him. He wanted to see the earlier smile and see him laughing.
"I do not like it here," Tristan said with trembling lips.
"What don't you like?" Chan asked in a softer voice, still petting his head.
"The life… It feels tainted with darkness," Tristan explained.
Alistair understood the reason Tristan was uncomfortable. Tristan was used to staying in the Garden of Life where everything was pure and bright. No death or darkness could exist within that garden.
Under normal circumstances, Tristan would not feel uncomfortable after falling. However, since he had divine light, it was inevitable that he would not blend well with the human world where light and darkness existed side by side.
Some fallen angels thought the darkness was from the so-called original sin while others theorised that every wrong choice by humans brought a little more darkness into the world, marring its original beauty.
Alistair thought the darkness was there by design as part of the choice system.
"Can you put away your wings, little one?" Alistair asked.
Tristan hesitated, but he nodded and obeyed. His white wings disappeared, exposing his small frame which seemed more fragile than ever because his arms were around his knees. Chan stood up and lifted Tristan in his arms into the house.
Tristan did not protest because he was not sure he wanted to walk. Moreover, he found that he liked having close contact with Alistair because it muted the feeling of contaminated energy around him.
When they got into the house, Alistair placed him on a countertop and looked at him. Tristan looked back at the other fallen angel. His heart felt a little unstable for some reason, and his breath caught in his throat.
Alistair had an intense gaze that seemed to pierce through his soul. The grey eyes seemed to be cold, especially with the natural dark lines of dark eyebrows. However, Tristan could feel a familiar softness.
The thought disappeared when his eyes suddenly turned into an eerie molten silver white, eliminating the soft humanity, leaving a true fallen angel. Then, Alistair's right hand which had been at the side, trapping Tristan on the counter, caught a delicate throat.
The grasp was light at first, but the hand tightened, keeping Tristan in place. Tristan panicked at the sensation, but his mind was blank. It felt like he was watching himself from a distant place under the mercy of Alistair.
Tristan looked at Alistair with wide eyes full of fear as he drew closer and placed his lips on his own. Tristan was frozen, unable to react. The hand around his neck tightened, forcing Tristan to open his mouth to breathe.
Before he could understand what was happening, A tongue slid into his mouth, followed by the distinct taste of blood. The blood was not his own. He could tell because it had a distinct dark energy in it.
This time, he tried to fight against the hold around his neck.
He did not want to feel the darkness enter his body. However, how could his strength compare to the first fallen? His head was held in place, making it impossible for him to escape from the hold.
He tried not to swallow the blood, but Chan's kiss was so overbearing that it robbed him of his breath, except for what he was giving him. So, when Alistair loosened his hold on his neck, Tristan could only swallow the blood instinctively as he took a breath.
Tristan thought he was going to get violently sick from the darkness in Alistair's essence.
However, as the blood flowed down his throat, he only felt a warm sensation in his body. The dark energy seemed to go from his stomach straight to his limbs and his head, leaving him a little dizzy.
Tristan thought he was about to die, but a few moments later, he realised he was fine. And the tainted life energy crawling around the world was no longer bothering him. He did not feel like he was choking on the contamination.
If anything, he felt the overwhelming oppression of the tainted life energy around him become muted. It still did not feel like home, but his sensitivity to the vile energy seemed to almost disappear.
But that did not mean he was not very angry.