My Fallen Angel

How did he always manage to make me feel so bad about myself?
I sighed, sitting down heavily on the edge of the bed, my clothes sprawled about the room, things broken where I'd thrown them about in an angry fit.
Was he right?
Would I end up going back to him?
I dropped my face into my hands, miserable.
Why was everything going wrong? Was I keeping Andy from living his mortal life by being with him? I mean, I wanted him to have the mortal experience, having children and falling in love and being with another human and slowly growing old together...
And who the hell had he kissed?
My brow furrowed.
When had he kissed someone?
Technically, I suppose we weren't together, so I didn't blame him if he wanted to be with someone else, or kiss them, or...
But it made my chest hurt.
I felt tears well in my eyes, but I swiped them away in aggravation; I couldn't keep being weak like this, he was right.
I needed to be stronger, that way I wouldn’t give In, fall apart so often and need someone to rescue me.
I wasn't a damsel in distress, this wasn't the dark ages.
I could do just well on my own.
"Kenna?"
I jerked my head up as the door flew open and Andy stood there, huffing in the doorway.
I blinked at him.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, watching him as his eyes flicked about the room and then to me where I sat in the midst of all the destruction.
"CC heard you and Ash fighting, and he said it was bad," he said, letting the door close behind him. He strode over to where I sat, his eyes glancing me over to make sure Ashlan hadn't hurt me.
"It doesn't matter, he's stupid," I muttered, clasping my hands tightly in my lap.
"He... I mean, he didn't hurt you or anything, right?" He asked, his big blue eyes seeming to radiate anger. "He didn't touch you?"
"Andy, it's fine, he wouldn't do that."
"I don't believe he never has," he muttered, more to himself then me, and I frowned up at him.
"Ashley never hit me, Andy."
"You don't have to protect him from me, Kenna, it's okay," Andy told me, brushing my wet hair from my face where my tears had soaked them.
"I'm not, really, he ---."
"What were you fighting about?" He interrupted me, sitting down beside me.
"Nothing," I looked down, not wanting him to know. It was stupid there'd even been an argument over it, I just couldn't stand the thought of Ashlandil touching me anymore, I just couldn't get over it; it made me afraid, and I wasn't sure why. I felt so stupid being afraid of him, he was right after all --- why had that sex been any different then what we'd done before?
Other then the fact I hadn't wanted it, and it had hurt?
It had never hurt before.
It had always felt amazing.
I shuddered at the memory, and quickly forced it from my mind, leaning my face against Andys shoulder. He held me, his arms warm and comforting as usual, pressing a kiss into my hair.
"You always smell like strawberries," He sighed. "How do you manage that?"
"I dunno," I shrugged. I'd never noticed.
Everyone had their own unique scent, it was just mine.
I snuggled into his side, and he laid back, making it where I was almost laying on top of him.
How trusting he was, when if I wanted, this would have been the perfect time to interrogate him.
I let my eyes rise to his face as I pursed my lips.
"Andy?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Did you kiss someone else?"
I felt him tense.
"Why --- why would you ask me that?"
"I dunno," I sighed, looking away from him. "It's stupid, nevermind."
"Did Ashley say something?"
"It doesn’t matter."
"Kenna ---."
"It doesn't matter," I insisted, abruptly sitting up, feeling my hair fall from where I'd had it pinned and tumble down my back. "We're not together, so if you did, it's none of my business."
"Kenna, I ---."
I didn't want to hear any excuses.
I could tell he had, otherwise he wouldn’t have reacted this way.
I was keeping him from a mortal life.
I was.
I felt so awful.
How could I do that to him and not even realize it? All I'd wanted was a few years of happiness with him, and then I'd intended on disappearing and staying in the shadows, letting him have his life while still keeping him safe.
But what if he'd already met his mortal mate, the one he was supposed to have children with and spend the next fifty years with? He would never be able to do that while I was sleeping with him, and he would never be able to turn away from me because of my angelic draw.
He didn't have a chance.
"Don't go!" He burst as I grabbed my jacket. "Please --- I didn't kiss her, she kissed me while we were dancing, and I ---."
"While you were dancing?" I frowned at him. "When have --- oh. OH."
Kennedi? The First Ministers daughter?
THAT was who --- but her father was such a monster ---.
"Kenna, don't look at me like that," Andy scrambled hastily to his feet. "Please, I --- it didn't mean anything, and I told her she couldn’t do that. She just has a crush on me and ---."
"You like her," I said, gazing into his blue orbs. "You think she's sweet and funny and full of life. She reminds you of how Juliet used to be, right?"
He just stared at me.
I'd hit it right on the dot.
Was that how that saying went?
Not that it mattered.
I looked down at my jacket, and then shirked it on my shoulders.
"I'm leaving for a little while," I muttered. "I'll be back for the show."
"Kenna ---."
I slammed the door behind me.
I couldn't do this right now.


I downed another glass, feeling tears seep down my face.
Ashlandil was right, I was ruining his life.
I motioned my hand for another drink, sniffling, and the bartender sympathetically poured me another one, my compulsion making him pour and not ask questions. I quickly finished off that drink, four of them running through my system and just starting to give me a slight buzz that I could hardly notice.
I just wanted to forget for a little while.
I glanced at the clock above the bar, seeing I was missing the show completely, it already an hour in. Andy would be worried, but he shouldn’t be; I knew Kennedi was going to be there tonight, and if I wasn't there, maybe they could talk.
Since that's who he wanted to kiss.
I felt my tears increase, and I cried into my drink, hunkered down at my seat in the corner of the bar, ignoring everyone.
Stupid fate and fallen angels, stupid humans and love and all of it!
I hated this world again.
I ran my hands over my face, feeling miserable, and hungry.
I was always so hungry again.
I blew my breath out, raising my eyes to the TV where it showed people running and kicking something, words running across the bottom of the screen.
I had no idea what was going on.
"Hi there."
I glanced over, seeing a mortal slide up beside me, looking concerned.
"You look like you could use another," He said, motioning at my almost finished drink.
"I'm fine, thanks," I mumbled, wiping at my face.
"You havin' a bad day, sweetheart?" He asked, his accent heavy. "You're an American?"
I wasn't anything.
"Look, can you leave me alone?" I sighed, and downed what was left of my drink. I wasn't sure what it was anymore, I just knew it burned when it went down and it made the pain a lot less harmful.
I gave the mortal an irritated look when he didn’t go away, and I slid off the bar stool.
I hated mortals.
All of them were stupid.
I quickly left the bar behind, hearing the man call after me but ignoring him, slightly wobbly on my feet as I made it outside.
Had it been more then four drinks? I wasn't sure.
I staggered a little, and fumbled through my pockets, feeling my phone in one. I couldn’t remember the way to the venue anymore.
"Excuse me, miss?"
I glanced back, my vision blurring slightly, and felt someone tug on my arm, jerking me to the side and off the street.
I blinked in confusion as dark walls rose around me, and then I was shoved against a wall.
What the hell?
I blinked a couple times, recognizing the annoying mortal from the bar, and I scowled at him.
"Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?" I snapped as he stepped close to me, tugging on my jacket.
"You're wasted, sweet cheeks," he chuckled at me, smelling of booze.
Or was that me?
I wasn't sure about that either.
"Stop," I mumbled when he leaned against me, inhaling the scent of my hair.
"You Americans, always so entitled," he snorted at me, his hand suddenly curling painfully in my hair. I yelped, grabbing his wrist, tugging on him.
"Let go of me!"
"I offered to be nice to you," he murmured, his other hand closing painfully around my throat as I started to raise my voice, feeling slightly alarmed. "I offered to buy you a drink and help with your sorrow the gentlemanly way, but you had to be a bitch about It, dint you?"
"Get off of me!" I hissed at him, clutching his wrist tightly.
Why wasn't he letting go? My enamor should have made him go away!
I leaned back against the wall, feeling my legs go weak suddenly.
I was. So. Hungry.
And this fucking human wouldn’t let go of me!
I felt a growl rise in my throat, and the man suddenly yelped, his bones cracking under my grip.
"The fuck!" He bellowed, his fist connecting with my jaw, and my face barely moved; it was like being swatted by a feather.
I cut my eyes up to his furiously.
How dare he touch me!
I shoved him, hard, and he staggered back several steps, smacking against the wall across from me, tripping on trash bags.
"You fucking mortals are the entitled ones," I hissed, feeling anger rush through my skin. "You don’t understand how good you have it, how you can love whoever you want and make as many mistakes as you want and then just come back as many times as you want!"
I stalked closer to him, he cowering on the alley ground, cradling his broken wrist to his chest, his eyes wide with fear as he stared at me.
"You have no idea what pain is!" I jerked him to his feet, feeling my hair start to rise off my shoulders as I lost my temper. "You don't understand anything!"
"S-stop, lady," he gasped, looking terrified. "I--- I'm sorry I hit you, just --- just let me go!"
I snarled, and he whimpered, shying away from me the best he could, struggling against me now.
"What, you don't like it when someone attacks you?" I hissed, my hair still smarting from his hold.
I pressed him up against the wall, my hand curling around his throat; I could smell his fear, feel his heart pounding erratically and the blood flowing through his veins as he tried to fight me, escape my grip.
Stupid mortal.
I squeezed his throat, able to see the black and red swirls rising over my skin, and he suddenly howled, my hand smoking where it touched his throat, burning him.
They were so pathetic, these stupid mortals, so weak and fragile. I could break them in half with a flick of my wrist and they would never be able to hurt me again. I wouldn't have to let any of them touch me, they should fear me, not the other way around.
"P-please, st-stop," the man gasped, suddenly heavy in my hand.
My gaze flickered, and I blinked a couple times, my temper abruptly disappearing.
What was I doing?
I dropped him immediately, taking several steps back.
Oh god.
I could see my handprint burned into his mottled flesh, and bile rose in my throat at the sight. I turned my back to him, clutching at my hair.
Oh god, what was wrong with me?
"You fucking bitch!"
I turned automatically as the man lunged at me, going for vengeance, I suppose. I backhanded him, sending him flying through the air and into the wall with an awful cracking noise before he fell onto the ground, unmoving.
I hesitated, staring down at him.
Uh oh.
"Um, please don't be dead." I crept slowly to his side, seeing his neck was twisted at an odd angle, and blood was running out of his busted skull all over the concrete ground.
Oh no.
oh god no.
i'd killed him.
Oh god.
I took a step back in horror, feeling dismay run through my chest.
I'd killed him, I'd killed the mortal!
I pressed my hands over my face in pure panic, staring at his corpse.
What do I do?
Oh god.
What do I do???
I sunk down to my knees with a whimper, clutching at my hair as everything around me started to crumble down.
Oh god.

Notes