Angels are born into light, golden rays of sunlight and grape vines. Doppio is one of those angels that were born in the billowing clouds above the earth, taught amongst innumerable other angels on how to guide humans to their best selves. Doppio is a novice, young for an angel but archaic to a human, and his first guardian work is coming up soon.
Doppio’s mentors know that he’s an empathetic soul, and for his first job they decide to give him a complete basket case of a man. He’s a drug addict who lives in the sewers, and even though he used to have a lot of money and a good home and family, he destroyed it for his own pleasure. It’s the kind of thing that they’d assume would upset Doppio. It would be good for him, he’d have to learn how to let go and guide as fast as he possibly could.
On the day that he is due to leave, Doppio looks around the heavens for what he doesn’t realize is the last time in a while. Cumulonimbus clouds, glowing gold and flowing in the wind of the earths, the other angels floating through the sky, dipping in and out of the worldly dimension, looking up and seeing the stars above him, twinkling with purple and blues and whites over him. He knew why the humans below him called it the milky way, the stars splattered across the sky resembled the spilt beverage so much. One last time Doppio takes in his surroundings, and he dives down to earth, excited to see his human.
Meanwhile on earth, Diavolo is curled up into a ball, his lithe body trying to keep any ounce of warmth in. It’s winter, and despite getting his fix, he feels horrible. No matter how much he tried, he would never feel the same high that he did when he first started. And despite knowing this, he would always search for this high, no matter what it did to his body. He was skinny, you could see his wrists and ankles through his skin, his bony fingers curl around the injection and he groans out. Oh, how he feels like vomiting, but he knows that if he vomits he will fall asleep and drown in his own bile. He turns his face to look up at the rounded sewer ceiling, looking into the cracks in the wall. There’s moss and mold growing in it, it can’t be good for his lungs, but at this point, he doesn’t even care about his body anymore.
Diavolo lays his hands besides him and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to die, but at the same time, he doesn’t know if he would be upset if he were to die suddenly. Two seconds into his eyes being closed he can see a yellow glow, but his eyes remain closed. Every so often a police officer would come around the sewers and hassle the addicts in the sewers, and he’s learned how to ignore it. But this time, the light doesn’t stop. It’s burning into his eyes, and despite everything telling him to continue keeping his eyes shut, he opens his eyes.
In front of him lies the most amazing thing his eyes have ever laid on. Two wheels spin within themselves, warm fire wrapped around each ring. There’s a hundred eyes on it’s rings, all staring at him, occasionally blinking. Within the rings is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen, dressed in sheets, cheeks dusted with gold dust, pink hair flowing around his body, intertwining with his fluffy feathered white wings. The two eyes on his face are closed, but Diavolo can tell that he’s looking at him with all of those other eyes. It hovers a few feet above the ground, picking up a small amount of cool air and fanning the plants that grew in the cracks of the sewers.
Diavolo had to give his drugs props this time. This was the craziest thing he’d ever seen.
Mewls fill Diavolo’s ears, it sounds like a combination between a cat’s meows and a woman whining. Diavolo didn’t like those noises, nor did he think he’d like them combined, but the noise coming from the being in front of him was the most beautiful noise he’d ever heard. That was, until it spoke.
“Be not afraid.”
Diavolo doesn’t know how he can’t be afraid of it, but the words resonate within his heart and he listens. The being approaches him and picks him up, none of the spinning rings hitting his frail body. Diavolo rests his head against it’s chest, listening to it’s heartbeat while he breathes. With each heavy breath he breathes, the being mewls, holding onto his hand. Diavolo looks up at the rings spinning around him and closes his eyes, resting in it’s warm arms.
Diavolo doesn’t realise that he’s falling asleep. The angels arms are warm, feeling like a blanket fresh out of the washing machine, and Diavolo is wrapped completely up in it. His consciousness fades, and he sleeps the best sleep he’s ever had in his life, right in those strangers arms.
For Doppio, the hours that Diavolo sleeps in his arm feels like nothing. Time is relative, it speeds up for Doppio while the rest of the world goes on. He rocks Diavolo in his sleep, holding his skinny body as he breathes. Doppio has never seen anyone in such a bad condition as Diavolo. He can see Diavolo’s veins and bones around his wrist and fingers. His thighs are skinny too, there’s little to no meat on him and he’s so pale… Doppio feels strange looking at him.
When Diavolo wakes, Doppio has chosen to hide his rings and leave his wings out. They stretch and twitch while Doppio pets the weak man’s face, watching as his eyes flutter open and begin to take in the little light that filtered through the sewers.
“You-” Diavolo starts, moving his hands so he can get out of Doppio’s lap, “you’re still here?”
Doppio tilts his head endearingly and smiles, “I’m going to be here for a while.”
Diavolo gets out of Doppio’s lap and starts to stare at Doppio. He’s beautiful, he doesn’t belong in the sewers. Looking over Doppio’s body once again, he can see those huge fluffy wings, and he moves in closer to touch them. The angels wing flinches a little bit, but then settles down and allows itself to be stroked by Diavolo’s bony fingers.
“Those are real wings, huh…” He speaks, a small feather falling out of his hand and resting on his palm. As Diavolo strokes the feather and rotates it, small golden speckles get caught in the sunlight and show themselves to him. “Shit…”
“What’s wrong?” Doppio asks, ruffling up his feathers. Diavolo takes his hand away and puts it on his forehead, groaning a bit.
“You aren’t real, I don’t know why I’m bothering talking to you.”
Something inside of Doppio is offended, he’s very real! Yet he knows he must be patient, for his human must not understand that angels are real. But, how to prove himself as being real? Doppio stops to think for a moment and gets a good idea.
He snatches Diavolo up into his arms and begins to walk out of the sewer, into the daylight. Diavolo is blubbering, something along the lines of ‘what are you doing take me back’ but Doppio ignores it, and continues to walk into the sunshine. Once they finally exit, Doppio takes a deep inhale of the fresh air and stretches his wings out, allowing his entire body to glimmer under the warm rays of the sun.
“Do you still think I’m fake?”
“...” Diavolo pauses for a moment, laying his head back in Doppio's arms. “Yeah.”