The last time I was here is when my father was about to give me my punishment, to be thrown on Earth without any powers. I would live as a mortal, just like them, and face whatever would come. I kept sending prayers, hoping that they would take me back – that my father would decide to end my punishment and realize how awful it really was, but that never came.

Before I would do anything just to be back here, but when I take a look around now, it just gives me this empty feeling, like I don't really belong or fit here. The faces I have grown familiar to recognize are looking at me with their brows furrowed, and in their eyes, you can see the disappointment. They probably know everything – I'm together with a demon.

In front of me is my parents, who have been discussing my being as if I'm not just behind them. My mother, who gives me worried glances, and my father, who is wearing nothing on his face, are talking about what they will do with Slate – they call him Forneus. When they utter his name, it's like it's the most disgusting name of all names, and the way his name rolls off their tongues, it's kind of like acid being spit out.

They have taken Slate to a prison where everything is purified. I've only been there twice or thrice in my life, but I never really got a chance to explore it. I have heard that prison place is big, capable to fit thousands and thousands of captured demons.

It has been four hours since I last saw him, and my heart is aching to see him. I don't think the warrior angels are capable of torturing someone, but it's a demon they have caught, so I'm not sure. Every time Slate crosses my mind, I feel like vomiting, crying. I want to break things and yell at my parents for throwing him into a place I can't even go to. But I remain my mouth shut and refuse to cry. Knowing my father, he would give me a hard time dealing with him if I ask what the warrior angels are doing to him.

We are on our way to the Grand Central. I have always hated that place. When I was a child, I wasn't allowed to go there. I wasn't even allowed to get out of home because, as my mother put in, I had to study well as I'd become a King one day. But I figured that will not happen. It never will.

The angels are whispering as they see me as if it's the most natural thing ever. I resist the urge to roll my eyes at them. Four warrior angels are assigned to me. Of course, so I can't escape. The two warriors are on my left and right, while the other two are behind my back. Their backs straight set, and there are swords dangling on their sides.

My heart is racing as we near the Grand Central, and more and more, it attracts the residents and they slowly fill in the empty place. They know that the King is going to announce something, to declare another hate-filled war against the demons. That, or about having to capture a high-rank demon. I do believe that it's the latter though. But what scares me is that, what my father is going to do with him. I know, when I stared right into his eyes earlier, that he was planning something. My mother knows, too. She probably felt that I had other feelings for the demon, and she probably thinks that it's disgusting. Still, I didn't see any sign of that from her face. When she looks at me, she would just give me small and sad smiles. It's not meant to be encouraging, it means that I'm being pitied.

As we reach the Grand Central, my father instructs me to get on the stage that oversees the crowd forming and my heart races even more as I see my friends that are not really my friends, my instructors, teachers, and everyone who has been part of my life when I was growing up here. Warrior angels start to align themselves protectively around us, and the others are in the air. They raise their purified swords, glinting as the sun shines on it. Trumpets are blown, drums are banged, and they all bow down to the King and Queen standing in front of them. I refuse to do so. My mother notices it and sends me a questioning look, and that's when I bow them. Once my head is tilted down, I roll my eyes and take a deep breath as everyone rises. I see Leandre at the crowd as I raise my head up. He has a worried expression on his face, and once he sees me looking at him, I just give him a smile.

"My people," my father begins as he looks at everyone with his chin up, his eyes burning with passion, and a smile that says he achieved victory. He spreads his arms wide open, as if he wants to hug all of his people. "Before the mortal world was created, where everything was still land and soil and just nothing, God made a new race of species to protect these mortals that he'd make. As Earth was created, the Good Goddess helped the God to create other species that will help unite these people, to help promote peace and love. In other worlds, we have this called Guardians, but in our world, we have personifications. And my son is one of them. He is the personification of love, the Angel of Love." The King looks at me, and in his eyes pool disappointment. "But clearly, he has ruined that title. For the previous Angel of Love, on behalf of my son, I'm deeply, truly apologize. On this day, we, as one, are going to decide whether my son is worthy of this title. By proving himself."

The crowd cheers, and my heart screams in pain as they begin to push Slate, covered in purified chains. His face is contorted in pain, and there are bruises and wounds across his body and the sight is hurting me. My father, sensing that I'm about to go down there to be with Slate, motions the warrior angels to keep ahold of me, keeping me in place.

Slate's words are fresh, deeply cut, and his generative power is completely useless. The weapons used on him were purified, dipped into the holy water, and blessed by the powerful angels. I cry out and try to reach for him when the warrior angels use purified staff and place it on the back of his knee, making him fall on the ground, on four. I put a hand over my mouth, and the tears are beginning to wet my clothes. Slate looks at me through his lashes, his eyes tired, but he still has a small smile tugged on his lips, telling me that he'd be okay.

"Please, Father, My King, spare him." I beg my father, who has an angry expression plastered on his face. My mother is being silent, but her lips are pursed and she is looking at me with a pained expression. "Please just let go of him and I promise I will... I will never associate myself with him again."

Slate overhears and shakes his head in disapproval. Not because of what he heard, but because of what I'm doing – begging, just to save his life. Slate tries to stand up, but the warrior angels are poking him with a spear. He falls back down on the ground. There's literally a smoke coming off of him, because of the purified chains all around him. I clasp my hands, begging my father to make them stop hurting Slate. My mother tries go on my aid, but my father stops him. There are tears pooling in my mother's eyes as she looks between me and her husband.

"Prove your worth and loyalty, Hadraniel." He says, voice laced with disappointment.

One warrior angels brings me a golden sword and gives it to me. When I was young, still learning about stuff, I read about some facts about this sword. This golden sword was crafted and made by the first angel, the first King. The First King made it not to use as a weapon to kill demons, but to prove someone's worth, to see where the loyalty lies. It is also said that the sword has some hidden secrets, though no one has really discovered it.

The warrior angels usher me to where Slate is and once I'm near him, Slate tips his head up and gives me a full-blown smile where I can see his pearly-white teeth. I choke on my tears, the sword feels heavy in my hand. The whole crowd is watching me, expecting me to do what I should to "prove my worth and see where my loyalty lies".

"Go on," Slate coughs as he looks at me, his lips still tugged in a smile. Genuine. Pure. That doesn't stop my tears from clouding my eyes and I break down in front of everyone. "Just... just so you know, I love you no matter what." He winks, and the warrior angels smack his back with the bottom tip of the spear they are holding and I glare at them.

"I can't. I can't do this, please, Father." I turn back to my father, whose face is already red. My mother is rubbing his back, and everyone gasps when I drop the golden sword.

"Hadraniel, you will stop this nonsense once and for all!" My father bellows as he points his index finger at me. The warrior angels stiffen. Clearly this is the first time that they've seen my father like this. It's not shocking to me, though. "I'm giving you one last chance. One last chance to prove yourself. Kill the demon, or I will."

"I love him!"

"You're not capable of love!" My father's wings spread out, and he flies towards me and Slate.

He picks up the golden sword and throws me to the side. He gets a handful of Slate's hair and tips his head back rather harshly, his face in disgust. Slate smirks at him and makes a comment about him not resembling me and my father slaps his cheek.

"But you resemble your parents well, Forneus. You really do." He states and Slate grits his teeth out. Anger, rage, hate, they are in his eyes as he stares right into my father's. "You were once the prince of his haven, now you're just some dirt." My father raises his sword and that's when I run into him and knock him down. Everyone looks at me in horror and my mother covers her mouth with her hands. My father stands up. "As the King of Heaven, I hereby declare that you, Hadraniel Stars, are now a fallen angel and is now a threat to the angels."

My wings sprout open and I fall on the ground. Every ounce of my angelic power is being stripped off of me, and I feel all kinds of emotions all at once, making it for me to breathe. I try to inhale some air and reach for Slate, but he's being held in place. My vision becomes blurry but I still can see my mother crying and begging my father to help me. However, my father's decision is set, and his eyes tell me that he will not stop this. I can hear all of them simultaneously, and it's making my head hurt. Slate. Slate is saying something to me, but I can't hear him properly. He's thrashing around, ignoring the pain he feels as another purified chains are wrapped around him.

As I struggle, my father picks up the golden sword and prepares to stab Slate in his heart. My eyes are trained on my father's action, and before the tip of the sword pierces' Slate chest, it goes through me first. That's right, I just threw myself to shield Slate.

I cough the blood out, and the sword still through me and Slate cries out.

My wings start to turn black, just like Slate's, slowly. But then it has only turned one wing and not the other. But Slate doesn't care about that. He probably hasn't noticed it. He gets out of the purified chains and just right on time to catch me before I hit the ground.

"You know –" I try to speak, but I cough out more blood.

"No," he croaks as he looks at me with tears running down his cheeks, some beads landing on my face and I smile at him with full of courage.

"That's... that's... because I... I love you,"

"Just stay awake, Adrian. Please... my angel."

"Now... now..." – more blood, more pain – "they kno, know, where my worth and loyalty is..." – can't take the pain, it's too much – "And.... Where my heart is, and love is..."

"Don't you dare die on me, Adrian," Slate says but I only smile at him. From the corner of my eyes, I see his dark wings wide open. Just like mine, one wing is turning into white, just like what I have. "I love you so much... please."

As my body becomes numb and the pain becomes a feeling I've grown accustom to feel, I remember meeting Slate for the first time. I was so scared of him back then. Then the moment we had on the beach. The date we had. I didn't want it to be a date, but now, I wish I could have that with him one more time, do it right this time.

Everyone is fading away, but only Slate's face remains. His tears, his lips, his eyes, his nose, his cheeks, I miss him. All of him. One more time, just one more time, I'd take any opportunity to kiss him one more time. Do it right this time. Make him feel everything. Make him feel that he's the one. His teeth, his neck, his collarbone, his chest. I'd do everything just to run my hand across them, to feel him one more time. Do it more passionately this time. Make him feel his worth. Make him feel that he's not lonely. His hand, his fingers, his hips, his stomach. I'd keep wishing I could just kiss them one more time. Do it like he's the most precious one this time. Make him feel like he's the happiest man in the world. Make him believe that he can really change. Make him feel that he will never be lonely. Not again. Not ever.

This is what love feels like. This is love.

I love Slate. I love Forneous.

And no one can change that.