#80spolaroid

……. blink, blink. he would consider it.

from where she stands at the kitchen counter, nancy's frame tenses. her back is turned towards wade, and her hand squeezes the handle of her coffee mug with a fierceness akin to that of how she pulls the trigger on her guns.

she feels trapped like a rat in a maze, even though she knows john wade well enough by now to know that there is no malice intended by bringing it up.

no, he is curious — and he has every right to be. this pertains to him just as much as it does her.

it's just that nancy doesn't know what to say yet.

she had assumed she would have more time to figure it all out. she thought she’d hidden that damning piece of evidence better than that. apparently, she had been mistaken on many accounts.

god, how long has he known? has he been biding his time, too, waiting for the right opportunity to approach the topic? just like she had been?

❝    HAREM   ?! i   never   mentioned   that   !   y-you're   putting   words   in   my   mouth   !!    ❞

wow   hal   why   so   defensive   all   of   a   sudden   over   your   bromie

the angel before him is pure, untouched and unmarred, despite the fall he had suffered. the feathers of his wings are still as blinding white as snow, though there are a small scattering of black ones hidden in their depths. lesser demons than eddie would not treat the angel with the respect he deserves — they would still view him and all his goodness as a rival, something that does not deserve to exist. they would rage and fight him, trying to bring the once-holy one harm.

it isn't like that for him.

perhaps it is a difference in circumstance that makes the demon look at the angel differently than others would. perhaps the fact that wings had once briefly adorned his own back is what helps him to thrive on the light that still radiates from the angel. eddie has long since forgotten what innocence and heaven felt like, but when the angel is near, he thinks he might still know a semblance of it.

he has tried to show the seraph the joys of sin so many times — he has tried to tempt him with coy words, with the charm that has led so many humans astray over the years. it has never worked on him the way it had all the others ... but then again, all of the sacrifices, all of the brides handed to him by the devil himself have never been the angel before him. none of them have been this holy one, who radiates a goodness that is far from the demon's reach. none of them have been the one that he feels was destined to be his.

now though, john is before him, wings splayed around his frame in a way that makes eddie wish to kneel down and worship him like the humans at the altar. this is a moment of temptation, the closest that he has come to bringing the fallen angel to pure freedom.

" hm ? who's - "

he almost asks for clarification, was he expecting someone else to show ? looking around, he remembers a key distinction between himself and the other man. his face falls flat in an instant at the realization, eyes rolling condescendingly.

" oh. "

catholics ...

he pushes his glasses up with a sigh, arms crossing.

" that's — that's not quite how things work around here. unlike you, we actually focus on what's important: God. none of that hokey ' hail mary ' nonsense. "

Is this an accurate assessment