Despair

Heaven was beautiful.

It was nothing like Wren had ever imagined, and even after years, decades, of living in the paradise, she still could never get used to it.

Every morning, she woke to the most beautiful golden light filtering through the windows, and every night she went to sleep to cool air and silver moonlight. Everyone was so happy, here. Everyone had wings, varying in size and shape, but wings nonetheless.

Wren's own were small, but soft, beautiful. The feathers were paler than snow, softer than silk. With shimmering golden waves of hair, and eyes as blue as the sea, she looked every inch the angel she was. She had died terrified, bleeding, in agony, gazing up towards her best friends. Her last thoughts had been prayers. "Please don't let them die, too."

And they hadn't. That thought made her so, so happy. Indescribably so. Yet, at the same time, loneliness ate at the edges. She had made so many friends, in Heaven. Everyone loved her. Yet, she missed her friends back home. Oni, Mauve, Xari, Anya, Darren, Zane, everyone in their group of survivors.

Yet, they were alive. And she was so happy, because of that. Even so, she missed them. But it was okay. She knew that eventually they'd be there, with her, too.

She had so many friends in Heaven, with her. Only a few that she'd known in life, the others only in death.

One of them was a little girl she hadn't known when she was alive, but she had the brightest smile, so happy. She had no scars. Well, she did, but none showed the reason she'd died.

 Starvation was a horrible way to die, slow and painful.

Sparkling silver eyes, blonde hair. Juno was always so kind and selfless, she reminded Wren of herself.

Wren's sister had been the first of the living to come. Her twin, the girl with hair that was nearly white, with eyes that were the color of mist on the sea.

Everyone had scars. It marked how they'd died.

Suicide was never a pretty death.

The scars at the new angel's wrists and the marks on her slender, pale neck, weren't uncommon, but it was always sad for Wren to see. The people who had been through so much, and just wanted to be free. You could be free, in heaven.

 And Dove was.

 She could be with her sister Wren, and with Sven, a man Wren hadn't known but one Dove knew as a brother. Wren had been one of the first to meet the new angel, when she had arrived, confused and sad, with marks on her otherwise clear skin. Dove had cried at the sight of her sister, cried when she'd seen Sven again.

Anya was the next.

Her death, apparently, was horrible. Wren had been appalled to hear about it, and had to comfort Anya. Anya was whole, with all her limbs, but still had scars covering her, from shrapnel and the explosions.

However, the news and stories she'd brought were amazing, but terrifying. Oni and Xari had gone missing. They weren't dead, of course, otherwise Wren would know. What if they were in pain? What if they were being tortured? Mauve, however, was well, she'd learned.

That one day, was special. Wren woke to gold slicing into her room, painting it in soft shades. She'd gotten up, gotten dressed, and left her small, cozy house that she now shared with Dove and her friends.

Wren worked with the newly dead. It was so traumatic for most, it was rare someone knew where they were and what was happening. So, she helped them. She told them stories and comforted them, slowly coaxed stories of their own out of them. She made them better.

Wren walked -or, rather, fluttered- into the building where she worked, where the new angels were brought once they spawned. She stopped dead.

Oh my god.

No, it's not real. How could it be real? The face she'd dreamed of for decades, the stormy silver eyes that darted anxiously, untrusting. It's not real. Gorgeous hair as snowy as the wings at his back, which he still seemed awkward about. It's not real. His feet tapped in time with a beat only he could hear, as if he was waiting for something.

The sight tore the air from Wren's lungs, and she nearly had a heart attack, right there.

 The man flinched, on edge, as he heard the playful tinkling of bells that announced the opening of the door, and Wren's arrival. His ever-darting eyes stopped, staring at her face, widening with shock.

Wren couldn't stifle her cry of joy, of ecstasy, as she ran towards him. Oni was just getting to his feet, still staring. She could feel other people's eyes piercing into her, judging, but Wren didn't care. She threw her arms around Oni, as the man stood, shocked. She was crying, she realized, as her body shook with laughter and sobs.

He was here. She wasn't alone anymore. He could come live with her, and they could be together forever. The thought made her cry harder. Wren was so happy, she thought her heart would burst. Oni was here. The person she loved more than anyone else.

"You're here. You're here." She choked out, pulling away just barely enough to look at his face. Hungry eyes roved over it, taking in every detail. It was Oni, without a doubt. He was older, his body bigger as her arms closed around him, but it was definitely the man she loved so much.

She leaned in, pressing a kiss against his lips, so eager. She was so indescribably happy, that she didn't realize how loose his arms were around her, how he didn't return the kiss. Did... Did he pull away, even?

Wren didn't seem to notice, even as the kiss was broken, and she held him close, looking into the beautiful face of her love. He looked so shocked, confused. "I'm here, it's me, it's Wren." Wren said, grinning at him, as if drunk, gazing into his eyes. She wanted to kiss him again, for him to kiss her and hold her and never let go.

"...Who are you?" What? She didn't recognize that voice. Her lips hadn't moved, and neither had Oni's. Oni let go of her, even stepped back. What? Why? Why would he do that?

Wren gazed at him, shocked, confused, hurt, before turning, looking at whoever had spoken.

It was a girl, about her height. Long auburn hair, a scar on her lip and one running down the side of her face. Her eyes were creepy, unnerving, staring at Wren. One black, dead, soulless, the other nearly white, cold and piercing.

"...What?" Wren cocked her head, confused. Oni didn't say anything, and the girl spoke again. Her voice had a slight accent. Rosewood, and something else she didn't recognize. "I said, who are you?"

"I'm Wren. Who are you?" "...I'm Iris." Suddenly, Wren realized that this Iris girl was nearly glaring at her. What? Why did Iris seem mad at her? She hadn't done anything wrong. She stood with her arms crossed, and though she was small, Wren was almost scared. Something about her was unnerving.

"Why are you mad at me?" Wren asked, without thinking. She glanced to Oni, as if he would help her, but Iris stepped between the two. What? "Why are you touching Oni?" "Iris, please." The sound of Oni's voice made fresh tears spring into Wren's eyes, made her heart swell. It was rough, lower than she remembered, and had that same slight accent that Iris did, but it was Oni.

"...Who is this?" Iris said, looking Wren up and down. "I told you, I'm Wren! Oni, why is she so mad at me?" Wren looked sad, gazing imploringly up at Oni. He looked conflicted. Happy, too, but conflicted, maybe confused.

"...Wren, this... This is Iris." Oni said, slowly. She almost didn't listen to the words, at first, listening lovingly to the sound of his voice. When she did listen, her brows knitted together, confused and maybe frustrated. She wanted answers, not things she already knew. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped dead.

Oh.

Many things clicked at once.

The protective, territorial way Iris stood in front of Oni, looking over Wren like she was a threat. How conflicted and lost Oni looked. The way he hadn't kissed her, hadn't held her, hadn't loved her the way she so desperately wanted him to.

Oni was in love with Iris, and she with him. Oni had moved on.

The realization dropped her heart like a stone. It felt like she'd been hit with a sledgehammer.

"...I-" Wren tried to speak, stepping back, but her voice came out choked. How long had she dreamed of the day she'd see Oni again? The day she'd hug him and never let go, kiss him without worry, lie in bed with him and let him hold her and love her, and she would love him back. She loved him, so much. And he loved Iris. He loved Iris, this new girl in dark clothes with scars and eyes that scared Wren and a glare and crossed arms. The girl with fire in her eyes but love in her heart, love for Oni, love for WREN'S oni.

Dying hurt less than this.

It felt like she'd been shot again. She wished she'd been shot again. The pain in her chest was overwhelming and so, so agonizing. She felt sick. Wren stepped back, ignoring Oni's arm that reached for her to steady her.

The man she loved, had slept with and trusted, he had moved on. She should be happy for him. She should accept that, and move on. Be happy for him and Iris. Wren had died. Oni wasn't to blame, it wasn't his fault Wren had died and he'd fallen in love again.

But it hurt. It hurt, so bad. It felt like she'd eaten ice cubes for breakfast, her stomach had gone cold and heavy. The cold pain slowly spread through her body, like honey, only not nearly as pleasant.

She shouldn't blame anyone. She shouldn't hurt so bad. But it did. She felt betrayed, disowned, though she knew she shouldn't. She did. Wren hurt so bad. The pain crushed her.

It felt like her ribcage was collapsing. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. Her chest hurt, her heart hurt. It was agony.

With a resigned whimper, Wren sank to her knees, as tears began to stream down her face. The sound that came from her throat next was unhuman, a sound of pure pain, misery. An animal sound, halfway between a gutteral scream and an agonized moan.

For once, Wren wished angels could die. Because she certainly wanted to.