Oh that fruit. That fucking awful fruit. Apples. I hate apples. They taste good and the texture is fine, but they were forbidden to humans, and if the incident in the garden never happened, Anthony wouldn't know good from evil. Everything would be fine then. Humans wouldn't have to know. The cost of knowledge is larger than what anyone could ever understand.

Despite my sin being revealed to the wicked, I still wanted to know what it was like to love Anthony. The foul cat was laughing, yet I still wanted to know. The wicked demon was dragging by the wrist inside, yet I still wanted to know. Then there was the witch in the kitchen, offering me apple pie, yet I still wanted to know.

I accepted the offer.

The pie was sweet and tart. They were still crisp, but melted away in my mouth like sugar candies. There was a hint of cinnamon too. It burned my taste buds in just the right way. Sin and heat, that's what it was, a pie made of sin and heat, just like Hell. Sin pie. Why did such sin taste so good? It baffled me, and played with my curiosity. Would such sin with Anthony feel just as sweet? I couldn't help but wonder.

He was so tempting. Those apple red blushing cheeks and leaf green eyes. What awful things could I learn from such a temptation?

I glanced up at Manaphel. "Do you want to know what I'm thinking about?"

She leaned over the table. I hated how tall she was even more in that moment. I felt silly to be intimidated by a demon simply because she was tall.

"Hm? I know you're thinking about your boy because that's what you're always thinking about, but I wanna know about what you're thinking about your boy."

I glanced down, then stabbed my fork into the pie. Then I glanced back up at her. "I think he's a lot like the beginning. You know, the garden and all. Particularly, the apple. Your team's deal, I'm sure you know. He's sweet. He's tempting. And I can learn something that I don't know about from him, which will ultimately get me in trouble."

She sat back down. Perhaps she was calming down. I heard two cracks come from her side of the table. I then glanced over, seeing she was cracking her knuckles.

"Are you mad?"

"No, no, not mad about that. -Y'know I don't think the apple thing was entirely a bad thing. It's human. And humans aren't bad or good, despite being made in the image of The Big Man," she mumbled. She cracked another knuckle. "Don't you love humanity?"

Of course I loved humanity. I loved Anthony. But what was a demon, who purchased my human's soul, going to tell me about love?

"You don't. What's the point?"

She looked out the window at Evanora, who was tending to a fern in the garden. Jasper was back to his feline form. As most cats do, he was pawing at a bug or something creepy and crawly.

"I do. I do love humans. I love her. I really do. I know I'm a demon. Do you think I wanted to be a demon?"

"You rebelled, so yes. That's asking for it."

She turned back to look at me. "Do you know why I rebelled?"

"I don't know you well enough to know that. Something about Evanora," I sighed. I rolled my eyes at her, then mumbled under my breath, "Get to the point."

There were three more cracks before I heard her mumble, "I loved. That's what I did. Have you ever noticed Evanora doesn't have an angel?"

"She's immortal. No angel is going to waist their time with immortality."

"I did. That's what I fell for. I fell so I could gift her immortality. I don't waste my time. I give it."

Well that sounded stupid at the time. Daft demon.

"So do you think that makes you good? Really, you're funny. I get that you love her but humans aren't ours to love."

"Now who said that?" she asked as she propped her feet up on the table. "Who?"

"The Big Man did, obviously."

"And what does The Big Man think of you, exactly?"

I stood up. "That's a great question. I don't think He knows about me."

"So why would He care?"

I crossed my arms. "Because He's God. He cares about angels. I'm just an angel. I'm not special. I don't stand out. He may not know about me personally, but I'm nothing special, I'm just another angel. You know that."

She clapped her hands as she cheered, "Oh! The angel has it all figured out! Just an angel! Just an angel! Tell me, angel, are you really still the same? The angel here eating apple pie is the same as the angel in Heaven singing praises? The angel here talking about love is the same angel who is... Well I'm not too sure what other angels do now. You know. You know it all, don't you? Hm? Oridon?"

"Stop it," I growled, "Stop it!"

"You're angry. Wrath is a deadly sin. Doesn't that make you dirty?"

I was not much for violence before that point, but temptation got the best of me. I pushed her out of her chair. She hit the floor with a thud. After a few moments of silence she began to laugh like a child that heard some kind of joke.

"Stop! I don't understand! I don't get it! What do you want?"

She looked up at me. A razor blade thin smile creeped upon her face.

"I want you to stop being so stupid and go get your boy. You're not a very good angel, after all. Make him happy, keep him safe. That's what you're supposed to do after all. He'll be happiest being loved by you, and it's already too late for the both of you already. Just go. Go on. Maybe go home and wait on him. Make a nice dinner. Perhaps take some pie home to him. Yeah, nice things."

"You just want his soul."

"I have his soul. I'm just doing my job, angel. Go do yours."

There wasn't a way out, except for the door. I went to it. I felt it; the splintering wood, the iron knob. Then I looked back at Manaphel.

"This isn't right."

She propped her feet back up on the table. "Sometimes you need to do the wrong things for the right reason. If you don't think Anthony is a worthy cause, then don't go. Don't do it. Maybe he's worthless. Maybe."

Her words were like a knife to my gut. Anthony was worth the world and everything beyond. Of course he was worth it. Of course he was.

I left.

Sometime later I found myself stumbling about near the factory Anthony worked at. It was around the time his break should have been, but he wasn't there. I figured he could have been held over by a few minutes. Every day during his break he'd spend his time outside with a cigarette to relieve the tension from working, so I was right to think he'd bust through the doors overwhelmed and overworked at any moment. Then he'd see me, and he'd smile. It would be just like the times before when I'd visit him, and he'd be almost satisfied for the moment. I could see it in his eyes though, he was always yearning for more.

Was it too greedy of him to ask for love? I think not. I was going to make him happy, so happy. Everything he wanted was going to be placed in his hands.

He just didn't show up.

I waited for long enough. I figured he may have skipped work, so I followed the road home. The city was bustling with people returning home too. Candle lights lit up windows. Children were playing games in the streets. It made me smile too, at least until the sights of other angels caught my eye. Silly me, smiling while I was going to let my human be damned, silly me.

The only safety from their eyes was my own home. I entered the apartment building, ready to see Anthony. He was the only one who could look at me without judgement. The door was cracked open, so somebody must have been in there. I giggled a little with excitement, then pushed open the door.

"Anthony!" I called out as I walked inside.

There was Manaphel on the couch. She was reading Anthony's Bible.

"This book is very biased. Have you ever realized that?" she muttered without looking away.

I rushed towards her and snatched the book from her hands. "Where is he? Tell me! What did you do?"

She looked up at me. "I didn't do anything," she stated in a relaxed tone. She then sat up and sighed, "In fact, I'm trying to help your boy."

"What? Where is he?"

"Prison."

"You're lying. You damned liar! You're lying!" I shouted as I put my hands on her shoulders. I pushed her against the backrest of the couch so she couldn't squirm away. "Where is he really?"

"Prison. Jail. What else can I call it? Hell? Well Hell is Hell, but it's the closest thing to Hell on Earth."

Her face seemed too truthful to be lying. There was no devilish smirk or wide eyes. All that lied upon her face was the characteristics of boredom: a thin face at rest and tired, uninterested eyes. Of course she was calm about Anthony being in jail. I guessed she enjoyed knowing Anthony was suffering and watching me panic.

"What's he in jail for? He's not a criminal!"

She shrugged and said, "You're not going to like my answer."

"Tell me!"

"Well, it's illegal for a man to make advances towards another man, and that's exactly what your good Anthony did. That's all I know of the situation. You're going to have to go talk to him."

I pushed her to the side before running out. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. The world at my sides was a blur. I didn't dare stop till I reached the prison. I could feel that Anthony was there.

I returned to my non-manifested form before entering the jail. It felt odd to not have feet on the ground anymore. I didn't feel like myself. I felt like the shadow of somebody else.

I entered the prison. Nobody could see me, so I went where I pleased. I found Anthony's cell. He sat in a dark corner, crying and slamming his fists into the brick wall.

He looked so miserable in his little cell. I considered manifesting, but he was in there because of me. I knew him well enough to know I was the last person he'd want to see. I didn't want to upset him anymore, so I let him cry.

Perhaps he deserved it.

After all, he loved me. I was the one he wanted, and he gave up on me. He wanted someone else. It was like I was nobody to him all over again. Maybe that was for the best too.

Hell-bound. I wasn't going to let him suffer in there and then be hell-bound. He may have been greedy and impatient, but he still was worth at least the gift of human joy, if not more. I wanted him to be happy. Maybe being that close to love was enough for him. Maybe he would be happier in the company of somebody else, like humans should be. Maybe I wasn't enough for him.

Oh I certainly wasn't enough for him. Silly me, even thinking I could have been enough for him. He always wanted more.

Still looking down at him, crying like a child, I wanted to give him more. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to let him cry on my shoulder instead of against the bricks. His fist was bleeding because of the wall. I could have fixed it. He deserved to bleed like that though. I could have fixed it. I could have made his hands tender and soft again, but he didn't deserve the touch of an angel.

Yes he deserved to be there.

He deserved to suffer like that.

I decided to leave him be. He didn't need me around to cry his tears. That was perhaps the only thing he could manage to do without me. If I was anything good to Heaven anymore I would have prayed for him to realize how wicked he was without me. What kind of human flirts for almost two decades and then after one fight tries to woo a coworker? That sounded petty to me. It sounded broken. He couldn't have been that broken, and if he was, he didn't know what he had coming. He should have known.

Oh Anthony.

I left him there. I left. I left and went home. I manifested in my comfortable place. The first night alone seemed wonderful. I laid in my own bed alone. I went to sleep when I pleased. I had every inch of linen sheets I pleased. My oh my, I was so warm that night. Anthony must have been freezing in that cell. Served him right for having such a cold heart. Somehow I found it in myself to laugh about the situation. It was his fault for losing me. He was the one who stopped wanting me. If he had anything in his loose head, I figured, maybe he'd want me back.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face.

The next morning I woke up to the company of the sun. It was still cold outside, so I dragged the sheets along with me. I sat in the windowsill and watched all the little people scurry along. They were mostly tired people going back and forth, to and from work. Anthony wasn't one of them. I couldn't help but wonder about the poor boy as I watched the little people go by.

Curiosity got the best of me. I threw on my warmest clothes and ran out. I headed towards the prison. I looked through the prison fence. Anthony was working, perhaps harder than he'd ever. I couldn't believe my eyes. He was chopping wood. That wasn't his kind of work, not with slender, elegant hands and hardly any muscles. Shame on the prison system for making him work like that. He would have been much more useful doing other jobs.

I couldn't help but watch him. It was a waste of my time, but I had all the time in the world. Every now and then Anthony's eyes met mine. He tried to smile at me, and even wave a couple of times. He seemed sorry, not mad. I wish he was, because then at least I wouldn't have to be mad at myself. How did I dare ignore him when he needed me most? Of course he was broken.

Still, he didn't want me. And if he didn't want me, then what was the point?

I turned away. There was no point in looking at him any longer. There was no point in staying there any longer. I started down the path home. Of course Manaphel had to be heading in my direction.

"Going to see Anthony?" I called out to her. She waited until she was closer to me to respond, "Of course I am. I suppose you're coming from there?"

I crossed my arms. "Yes, there's not much to see. He's miserable."

"Are you just going to let him suffer?" she asked. Her top lip was pulled into a sneer, and she just kept staring at me. Her eyes were horrid. Red, just like most apples, and apples were the fruit that ruined everything. I wanted to tell her yes, that I was just going to leave him there, and that suffering like that was what he deserved.

But I couldn't say anything.

I couldn't will my lips to move. I couldn't will my neck to turn. I couldn't will my feet to run. I was frozen in her gaze.

"Well, angel?" she hummed, then looked away. I felt the tension in my muscles melt.

"No, no of course not."

What was I saying?

She patted my shoulder. "Good angel, good. Why don't we head back and try to save your boy? Hm?"

I pulled away from her. "No! Don't touch me! I- he can't be saved now!" I cried before I started to run. I didn't get far. I was never much of a runner.

"Oridon! What's wrong Oridon?"

I looked back at her. She was standing in the same spot. It felt like her glare was crawling underneath my skin. There was no escaping those eyes, not this time.

"Oridon!" she shouted again, "Let's go! You're headed in the wrong direction you daft angel!"

I fell to my knees. "No! No! Manaphel you don't understand! Leave me alone! You don't get it! No!"

Within seconds she was standing over me. Those eyes were glaring down at me. It was as if she was reading every part of me, from my grace and mind to the fear on my face. I didn't want her seeing. I didn't want her knowing.

"Manaphel, please I'm begging you."

She knelt down to look me in the eye. "For what?"

"Let him suffer. Please, just let him suffer," I whined at her. The words almost got caught with the ache in my throat. Then my eyes started to sting. The next thing I knew tears were running down my cheeks. And even worse, Manaphel wiped them away. She hissed a little at the touch. At least my tears were still holy.

"It doesn't seem holy for you to want him to suffer."

I jerked my head away from her fingers. "Please, please, just leave him."

"Why should I?" she hummed as she reached out again. That time she brushed my hair back and fixed it to be neat.

I shook it out again and whispered, "Because."

"Because why?"

"Because he needs to learn that he needs me. I don't want him out till he's begging for me to save him."

She stood up, then extended her hand towards me. "Oridon, I'll do it, but I don't think that's how you want it to go. You're heartbroken and-"

"I'm not heartbroken!" I shouted at her as I pushed myself up from the ground. I then sniffled a few times and wiped my own tears away. "He just doesn't want me anymore! He'll want me again! He'll want me! When he's at his worst he'll want me and he'll resent you! You're the reason he's here right now! It's all your fault!"

Her face fell to be less caring. She clapped her hands slowly. "Great job, you've figured out that I'm wicked. I did my job. Maybe you should figure out that he wouldn't be here if you loved him enough. Fly away angel. If he's not worth it, then go home."

I did in fact go home. It seemed empty. It wasn't a home anymore, it was just a soulless apartment. The bedsheet from earlier laid on the ground. I wrapped myself in it, then went to sit on the couch. It was like the kind of hug I wouldn't receive for a long time; his hug. The scent of the sheet was his too. It was torturous. I should have went onto the roof and burnt the damned thing. Sitting there with it around me was just too warm for me to let go. And it felt too nice to bury my face into the corner of the blanket, just to cry until it was too wet to be soft.

Sitting there crying made me wish that he were there too. I wanted to feel his tender hands on my cheeks so he could wipe my tears away. I wanted to look into his apple green eyes. Damned apples. I wanted him to whisper to me that everything was alright.

But I wanted him to suffer.