Like the angels

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They said he was the brightest.

The angel among angels that seems to shine the brightest. Sing the happiest. The kind of angel that made other angels feel envy if they ever felt such an emotion. His heart was the biggest, the one that can hold the whole world if he allowed it to. But even if he let the world inside of his heart, they said there was only ever one that can truly hold it.

It was an old story, they used to say, one that told other angels not to follow no matter how sweet the story is.

Ventus.

The angel of the winds. The angel of the brightest star.

The angel who loves others so much that he never knew what it felt to be loved so adoringly in return by just one.

The angels like to claim that a demon had bewitched him. A demon raised his curse to the sky where the angel lays on clouds, forcing him to come down. Fall from his home and walk amongst the mortals.

Vanitas.

A demon of Hell. The embodiment of Pride and arrogance.

No one would ever expect an angel and a demon to fall for each other. No one would ever expect the brightest of all angels to fall in love with the most sinister of demons.

Ah, but the greatest angel of God sighed, that was the thing in the end.

Was it love? Was it a curse?

No one can ever really know. No one knew for sure.

But the angels saw how smitten Ventus was with the demon, taken by his dark hair that resembled the darkest of nights and red eyes that dripped with the color of blood on bad days and flutters of soft blue on his good days. Despite the warnings, despite any misgivings, Ventus continued to see the demon that had somehow captured his heart. He was an angel in love, everyone can see that.

However, angels cannot be in love. Their duty prohibited them from doing so.

Still, the great angel continued, it was a tragic story in the end.

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From the very beginning, angels and demons were created to hate each other. Love was never an option. Friendship was tumultuous at best. Trust was even harder to gain--they never knew when the other would end up turning on the other, a knife in their back. That was what everyone knew to be true. It was embedded deep into their instincts; the desire to either fight a demon or an angel or flee from the fight before it became too dangerous. Worse were the Demons of Sin who possessed the power to devour hearts of other beings to make their own power stronger--greater.

Horror stories that ranged between each side for generations, filled with contempt. Filled with vengeance.

Yet, the great angel said almost wistfully, Ventus was the exception to the rule.

He always was.

This bright little angel was filled with an innocence that no other angel seemed to possess, but also filled with a maturity no one would have expected from him either. The great angel explained that Ventus was one of the Three Primordials; he possessed a power far greater than any other angel. He was a Seraphim.

And he was God's precious child.

It happened on a day when Pride heard this precious angel sing. Despite what he was, despite being the King of Hell's own Blood, even Pride was captivated by that beautiful song. A song of light and love.

A song of freedom.

A song of unions.

A song that filled with the world with a kind of brightness that filled them with warmth.

But for Pride, the story said, the moment he heard that angel sing, it changed everything.

For that was the moment Pride became captivated by this angel of light and love.