I'm an absolute mess, and I know it.

And yet, I lack the energy to do anything about it. I lack power, I lack motivation.

I, Druvena, have no idea what I'm doing, and it's a problem.

Days have passed since I woke alone. Since Az vanished. And yet I'm still suffering the consequences of his actions. I'm in pain—and this pain increases daily, growing worse, impossible to ignore.

It's a pain that affects everything. My motor functions are impaired, and I'm more impulsive than ever. I've thrown so many glasses against walls that Henderson has temporarily banished me from Hazel's Vale, out of fear for his dwindling supplies.

My moods are affected, too. I'm irritable. Borderline rude to my peers, too. I've been asked to leave most venues when I start to pick fights with other patrons for absolutely no reason.

My attitude is crappy, at best, utterly despicable at worst. And it shifts from day to day, sometimes slightly bearable, but mostly atrocious. I'm atrocious.

Angels aren't supposed to be atrocious.

We're peaceful beings. And while I'm known for my violent tendencies towards blackened hearts, I've never acted like this before. Ever. Not in the eons I've been alive and working my magic in Hazelvale.

And said magic is weakened, too. If there are any darkened hearts nearby, I either can't feel them, or don't care to. Everyone and everything bothers me to no end, and it's a feat if I can exit the temple without wanting to spit on someone.

I'm surprised I can even enter the temple. Its priestesses normally regard me with high praise—they know what I am—and grace me with all the things I need to survive. Food, water, a comfortable forest cabin to live in on the temple grounds. They launder my clothes and sheets, they tidy up when I'm out.

But now...they don't dare approach me with a ten-foot stick. They're afraid of me and haven't offered me any of their delicious meals or mouthwatering beverages in days.

Not since I returned from the tavern in a state so close to hatred that I swore at them all.

Remembering it all now, I wince.

I know what this is, loath as I am to admit it.

This agony, this moodiness—these are symptoms of a condition I know all too well and have been battling to contain for millennia. A disease I've been asked to prevent the spread of, yet here I am, the carrier.

Pain in my heart. Pain in my soul. Pain in the very core of me, digging into every cavity, infecting me with hostility and despair.

Something pinched inside me the day Az ditched me in the room above the tavern. Something I should have recognized immediately and taken steps to fix. But I was too sad, too frightened, and too depressed to try.

Now I suffer the consequences. I'm feeling all the sensations I was sworn to protect others from. I'm becoming the thing I hunt, the type of person I don't want in my world.

The type of person the goddesses wanted me to exterminate.

Or so, I think that's what they wanted. It's been so long since I received my orders, the words are blurry.

"Keep heartbreak out of Exivaria. Ensure it doesn't exist."

Did they say, by any means? I can't recall. Regardless, they never detailed anything to me. Never told me to stop, that my methods were impure. They're always watching, I know that.

So are they watching me now? Seeing me moody and sappy and stupid? Dependent on the love and affection of a man I barely know? And a demon, of all things?

It hurts my head to think about it, but the thoughts never go away. No matter what I do—eat, sleep, wander aimlessly through the marketplace as people dodge me with glares—the facts are there. And I can't understand them.

How did Az do this? A demon, enticing an angel—never heard of. Some might say, impossible. I've read through all the goddesses' teachings at the temple, and nothing like this is ever implied. Not even in the most remote and blurry sections.

Demons aren't supposed to be in Exivaria. They're sealed in their realm, and escaping is fatal for them. Something about the atmosphere is meant to weaken them, wound them.

So how is Az walking and talking and breaking hearts when he shouldn't even be alive?

It's unclear how long exactly it takes for a demon to succumb to this outside air. They've been deprived of it for so long, it's known to attack their insides and slowly destroy them. But I've never seen it happen. Only heard rumors of demons in other continents, with unknown goals.

They all work for their king, of course. His name is unknown to me. I read that it was a curse to say it out loud, and anyone—goddess, angel, or human—who values their life is taught to forget it.

Of course I'm curious, but it's Az I can't stop thinking about.

Is his name cursed, too? Have I put a spell on myself by saying it?

Or was this—my wounded heart—all part of some sordid plan? Part of his plan?

Why me? I'm no one; the angel of love overseeing the capital of Exivaria. I'm not a goddess, I have no pull or say in anything important. My only role is to stop heartbreak.

But this demon...he seems to create heartbreak, bring it on with a bat of his eyelashes and a flash of his bulging muscles. I wonder how many others he's harmed before me, if anyone. Surely I'd have sensed broken hearts in his wake; but when it comes to him, it appears all my senses are blurred.

How did he escape my careful observation?

I knew he was a demon quite quickly into this game. My instincts should have been to run, far, far away from him. Or to be bold enough to confront him, turn him in to the goddesses, have him returned to his realm.

But he'd blindsided me. He'd come out of nowhere, alluring and sexy and everything I didn't realize I wanted. And somehow, he was able to cloak his heart's true nature from me. He concealed his true intentions and drew me in, devoured me, and spat me out like I was mush.

All demons had black hearts, or so I'd discovered in my recent research. Never had I read so much on those monsters, not expecting to ever come across one. But now, I'm obsessed. I can't quit reading, absorbing the knowledge.

But I read hearts. That's my thing. I can usually read everyone, supposedly including demons. So why hadn't I been able to read Az? When I dug, his heart was colorless. Transparent, almost. Nonexistent and yet, I felt it beating in rhythm with mine.

Instead, I sensed myself growing infatuated. Dominated by him. Wrapped up in all the what-if's and how come's of the situation, and it made me brew so much rage on the inside.

His voice repeats over and over in my mind. Not things he's said to me before, but things I imagine him saying. Sweet nothings I wish he'd whispered to me that morning. Gentle touches he should have given me, had he not run off.

It's like he's always there, whispering in my ear. I can almost feel his lips near my earlobe, his tongue tickling my neck.

Several times I've flipped around, thinking to find him following me. I keep getting that is someone behind me? sensation and never find anyone there when I turn around. Like I'm being stalked by someone, something invisible.

A ghost?

There's a ghost, all right—the ghost of his touch, still tracing down my arms. I still feel his fingers inside me, his cock inside me, and it tingles, day in, day out. It's the worse sensation, because I'm so furious all the time, but then I detect his presence and my entire body warms up, my world lights up.

And then it all shatters when I realize he's not there, and I'm hallucinating.

Angels don't hallucinate. Angels don't get caught up in feelings, their hearts don't drink in so much lust and love, their bodies don't ache after being abandoned. They don't get abandoned.

Angels aren't tormented like this. They don't hurt like this. They don't snap at other people, they don't get violent—unless they're killing a darkened heart.

Why has Az penetrated beneath my angel surface? How? It's impossible. No one's done it before; as far as I know, no one's even tried.

So why me? Why him? What makes him so special?

I vagabond about the marketplace, blood boiling, fists tight at my sides. I hate everything. Everyone. All of it. I'm a ball of nerves and if I explode, I worry what'll happen.

But I need to be contained. Whatever Az has done to me, it's dangerous. If I, an angel, succumbed to his nefariousness, what'll happen to the humans around me?

Peeved as I am, I can't put everyone in danger. I have to isolate myself.

Torment rages on inside me as I prowl out of Hazelvale, and storm onto the temple grounds outside the city. I steal down the cobbled passage leading to my cabin and lock myself inside.

He can't haunt me in here. He can't hurt me in here.

And I can't hurt anyone, either.

Heartbreak, I'm containing you. You will not infect others. You will not interfere with my mission.

I'll do anything to heal.

Wordcount: 1,562
TOTAL: 24,765