A sight to behold, that was how MC would describe Simeon to anyone who would ask.
The clothes complementing his figure, that smile that reached his eyes… Oh, those eyes, so full of emotions, so sincere. He has a beauty worthy of being sculpted, painted, immortalized for all eternity, to be gazed, envied and admired by celestials, infernals, and mortals alike. But even then nothing would compare to seeing that beauty in movement, to see him talk, and walk, and smile.
Other people, demons and angels alike, are beautiful in their own ways, have mercy on MC if Asmodeus ever gets a glimpse inside their head and sees them thinking praises of the angel, but… It’s not just his beauty, it’s also his kindness, the sense of calm and safety he emanates, nothing in any of the realms can compare. There is just something otherworldly, like a perfect illusion, because there is no way someone like him could ever be real. But he is, and MC is blessed enough to be witness of his existence.
Simply fascinating, and MC can’t help but stare, hypnotised by the movement of the other’s hands as he picks up a cup and sips his tea. Is it possible to be jealous of the way someone holds a cup? Or the way a drink is able to get close to those lips? Or of the steam that hovers in front of his face, barely touching his skin, so close to that satisfied expression?
“You are daydreaming again.” Simeon’s voice interrupts his thoughts, not suddenly but gently, like he is caressing his mind into consciousness.
It’s so easy to get lost on him, on looking and listening to him. MC never gets too lost as to not listen to Simeon, it would mortify them if the other asked if they were listening and they couldn’t respond. Oh no, that would make Simeon make that disappointed expression, that while beautiful on its own, makes MC’s heart hurt.
“Yeah… sorry, I tend to do that, sometimes.”
They don’t want to disappoint the angel, or make him angry, or upset. They want to see him happy, to see that calming smile and the glistering in his eyes. They want to keep him safe in return and see him bloom like a flower.
But the angel smiles, making their insecurities wash away with its warmth.
“Don’t apologize. You should drink your coffee before it gets too cold.”
MC just holds their own cup, letting themselves think it could even rival Simeon’s warm hands. They know how they feel from when the angel touched them from time to time, too casual to be considered anything else but friendly or polite. But it would be something entirely different to hold them, interlocking their fingers, getting to feel their different temperatures. Those hands are so different from their own freezing cold, the angel radiating where they dim, soft in the places they are rough.
“Right… Still, I promise not to wander too far.” They say with a chuckle.
Simeon nods and continues speaking, his voice, with that inexplicable texture of silk, soothes their mind and make MC feel embraced even if they aren’t touching.
They love Simeon, have for some time. They think it’s impossible not to. They are comfortable loving him from afar, just admiring him and envying everything he has near. Such a beautiful angel, so close yet out of reach. Even if MC could just move their arm and touch that one strand of hair that is out of place, almost getting inside his eye, finally getting to feel it’s texture between their fingers.
But if this is how MC can love him, they will take it over anything less. Even if their tongue burns with unspoken words, and their hands grow numb from the cold, and their mind wanders each conversation a little bit further, they will still find comfort on the angel’s friendship.
How fitting, a human yearning for an unreachable angel. A story told a thousand times, but enough breath and ink for one more.