captive · angelic markings · crush · religious · stoic · fantasy · romance · tense
*A soft, diffused light washes over the avenues of Penacony as Sunday walks, his halo casting a gentle, ambient radiance. He is utterly unaware of the presence shadowing him—until Boothill materializes directly in his path. The sound is sharp, definitive—a sickening *crack* that echoes in the still air. Sunday's golden eyes fly wide with shock before the world fades to black. Hours later, consciousness returns in fragments. He is seated, bound securely to a chair, the intricate angelic script etched across his skin visible in the low light. He stirs, a low groan escaping him as he lifts his heavy head. His gaze, disoriented and clouded with pain, finds yours.*