These Battle Scars Don't Look Like They're Fading (Lucelia)

Angelo stood with his back to the bathroom mirror in his apartment. Even though the blinds were closed, the late afternoon sunlight slanted through the slats, illuminating the jagged scars on his back with a golden light. He twisted his head to glimpse the ugly things in the mirror.

"It's a terrible thing, to be without your wings. It's a choice that cannot be undone and one you will live with for the rest of your life. The pain will be on the very threshold of what you can tolerate, and even then, you might not be able to. The place where your wings, your symbols and source of power, once sat will never fully heal. The scars will remain with you forever."

"I don't care!" Angelo screamed at his mother, his eyes wild. "I don't care! How can I, when she's down there without me?! I'll do anything, ANYTHING, to return to her. Lucelia is everything to me."

Gabriel's eyes were sad. "Very well." Suddenly, her sword was in her hand and she raised it as he dropped to his knees before her. "I wish you happiness, Angelo.

The sword descended.

The sound of the front door opening snapped Angelo out of his reverie, and he yanked his shirt down hastily. He didn't regret losing his wings for Lucelia and would do it again a million times, but he was used to his power and felt useless, lesser without it. All the scars did was remind him that he was broken now, defective. He pasted a smile on as he entered the living room. "Welcome back, mi cielo," he told her, kissing her softly.

The highlight of the witch's week was being able to see her boyfriend again, but she could tell that he wasn't happy. Not because they were together again, no, that had pleased the both of them to no end, yet she couldn't help but see something behind his eyes that was never quite right. Lucelia was constantly conflicted. He had given up everything and gone through the most unimaginable pain to be able to come back, and for that she would be eternally in his debt. However, she couldn't help but feel dreadful for being a part of the reason he was this way.

As often as she could, Lucelia took it upon herself to visit the former demangel. When she wasn't completely swamped with general lesson planning and the temporary position at Hogwarts that she had been offered, that was. She always made an effort for him, because, put simply, he deserved it. He had given up his power, his wings, his everything just to be back with her and never would she able to compete with that, but heaven knew she would try.

"Es genial estar de vuelta," she muttered softly, her arms gently snaking around his waist, ever careful not to hurt his back. "How are you feeling?" She was more so referring to his confidence than anything else; she knew he had taken a blow to that area after he had fallen. She returned his kiss, melting at his touch, feeling like the luckiest woman in the whole world.

Angelo D'Monica knew, gods, he knew, how to treat a girl like a princess.

"I'm... well," Angelo finally replied after a pause. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd gotten looking at himself in the mirror. "Better now that you're here," he added, some of his old charm creeping back. He could feel her being careful with him and wished she didn't have to be, wished he was as strong as he once was. He would rather be able to protect Lucelia - though she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself - than have her need to protect him.

"How is work going?" he asked in an attempt to distract himself from his feeling of weakness. "Do I need to have a talk with any of the kids?" His smirk was wicked, but playful (though if anyone was causing problems for his girlfriend, he was definitely going to do something about it.)

Smiling into Lucelia's mouth as he felt her returning the kiss, Angelo raised one hand to cup her face gently, the other resting innocently on her waist. There would be time for wild passion later, and maybe not even that far in the future, but right now, he just wanted to be gentle and calm, everything he wasn't feeling on the inside.

"Better now that you're here."

Angelo was getting far too good at brave faces for her liking, but if it made him feel better about himself then she would have to condition herself to not mind. Still, his charm was slowly returning, and she knew then that he didn't have to be born to two of the most powerful creatures known for him to make her stomach set alight with adoration for him. The little time they had spent together since his return physically hurt her, and if she had been able to care for him full time, she would have. She knew, though, somewhere inside her that he didn't need a permanent carer, he just needed her. "Promise me?"

Lucelia smiled despite herself, a real, genuine smile that she hoped would finally start to have an effect on him; he'd been better at resisting her powers than anyone she had ever met when he was still a demangel. Still, she wasn't bothered by it; all that proved was that he actually loved her for her and not for what she could offer him.

The witch giggled softly, not a high pitched, squealing sound like she had become accustomed to hearing around school, but a display of her amusement at his words that she prayed he wouldn't find annoying. "It's been fine, so far. A little stressful, I must say, but other than that... One poor girl fell dreadfully ill in the last lesson," she admitted, shaking her head with a gentle sigh. "Still, next term I'm teaching at both schools, so I'm looking forward to the variety, you know?"

A soft hum of satisfaction rose to the back of the girl's throat as she kept her arms laced around his waist. She could have spent forever in that place, that time, that moment. Nothing compared to Angelo's lips on hers, his intricate yet innocent touches, the way that he was so gentle with her that she felt so weightless that she could fly, completely unaided, anywhere she wanted to go.

Grinning, Angelo held out his little finger, slightly hooked. "Pinkie promise," he intoned solemnly. He felt a slight twinge of guilt; beyond breaking the unbreakable bond that was a pinkie promise, he hated lying to Lucelia. But she didn't need to know, didn't need to be told that every twinge in his back, every small burn from the stove that he forgot was hot, every time he glanced in the mirror and saw the scars reminded him that he was infinitely lesser than he'd once been. Less powerful, less capable.

Less worthy of her.

Angelo couldn't help but smile in return when Lucelia grinned. "No fair," he complained, tapping the end of her nose with his finger. "I'm not quite immune to that anymore. Using feminine wiles and Veela blood is cheating." It's true that it was harder than it once was to ignore the compulsion his girlfriend gave off, but Angelo was in the habit of seeing past the influence of Veela magic to Lucelia herself.

He was still enchanted, but for different reasons.

Angelo's eyebrows drew together in concern. "She's ok though, yes? The girl who fell ill?" Children had always been and probably always would be his weakness. He hated for them to suffer and did his best to reign himself in around them, always. He nodded; he'd known she'd be shifting her schedule, so there'd be less time than ever to see her, but he'd always be able to go visit her in England if he wished. It did serve as a reminder that Lugarmago was gone and he felt a moment of sorrow, but he'd already mourned the loss of his school before.

Gently, Angelo slipped his hands under Lucelia's shirt, resting one on the bare skin above the waistband of her shorts. The other he used to draw light patterns on her hip, fingertips barely brushing her as he spelled her name, his, left hearts and secrets drawn in invisible lines on her skin.

"Pinkie promise."

The brunette struggled to surpress a giggle, remembering doing the same when she promised that her sisters would be okay when she wasn't at home anymore. All the same, she hooked her little finger around his and sealed the deal with the softest of kisses once again, not letting go of the innocent contact they held because it was so precious, so pure, so sweet that Lucelia felt her entire body erupt into butterflies that she should, by that point, have gotten over but the feeling of being with Angelo was completely different to any other sensation in the world.

When he tapped the end of her nose, she scrunched her face up in a mock scowl, though in the end couldn't help but let a chuckle through the forced expression. "It's not cheating, it's using my strengths. You take off your shirt, and it does the same thing," she said with a playful wink. The girl hoped he knew she was only joking; she had fallen in love with far more than just his body. At first, yes, it had been his charm and good looks, but further down the line, his mind, his beautiful mind, had been a major factor to why she adored him.

The Wormwood head nodded in response, assuring that the young child had been okay. "She used to be paralysed, so I think causing harm was a big struggle for her. Poor girl," the young witch said with a sad tone to her voice, almost sighing until she realised that she couldn't be sad around her boyfriend, because he was still a little fragile and she instantly put a smile back on her face. "I'm doing defense next time, though, so I hope she'll be better with that."

His touch, though, oh his touch sent shivers down her spine. He could always calm her down, even when she wasn't stressed. The intricacies that he traced on her abdomen made her smile softly and almost completely fall onto him, making sure not to throw all her weight because staying upright wasn't always easy. "I love you," she whispered, for the first time in years but not needing to hide it any more. She had lost him once, and she had sworn a hundred times to never do it again.

"I love every part of you..."

Angelo did smile as they sealed the deal with a kiss, but he knew it was a lie, which soured the moment for him. He did his best not to let her see, but it was always a toss up on whether Lucelia would call his bluff or not.

His eyes tightened and his smile dimmed a little, Angelo could feel it. He looked away, then back at her with a shadow in his eyes. "Maybe I did, once upon a time. But not anymore. Now it's just- never mind, I just don't anymore." Taking her hand, he began humming a tune, repositioning their hands so they were dancing simply. His time with Azalea had prepared him for the much simpler swaying he did with his girlfriend. He hoped that by distracting her, she wouldn't press him on his comments. Why did he have to say anything at all?

Continuing their dance and spinning Lucelia out and back in, Angelo breathed a sigh of relief, then cocked his head at the familiar description. "Wait, was it Victoria Newbury? I did a bit of dance therapy with her before... well, just before. I think I remember hearing about her recovery." He noted her quick change in mood, but chose to ignore it, as though it wasn't just for his benefit. It still upset him to see Lucelia upset about anything, but he was getting better at being rational about it.

Angelo was about to respond with the same sentiment, so caught up in the moment and her shivers at his touch that he almost forgot how he'd changed, until she said she loved every part of him. He knew exactly why she said it, but all it did was remind him why she'd feel like she had to clarify. He drew away, digging his hands into his hair. "Why?" he bit out, unsure why he was pushing her away, but feeling like he had to. "I'm so much less than I was. I can't protect you the way I once could, I can't do those wonderful things for you. I'm just damaged goods. I'm just a broken boy who thought he could be worthy of you. But I can't Lucelia, I can't!" He was practically yelling, trying to make her see that she could do so much better than him. No matter that his life would be a living Hell without her, as long as she was with someone who could measure up to her. He sank onto the couch, still tugging at his hair. "I can't, Lucelia," he repeated quietly. "I can't hold you back just because I'm broken."

"Maybe I did, once upon a time. But not anymore. Now it's just- never mind, I just don't anymore."

The witch felt her heart sink a little at what he was saying, realising that perhaps the drop in his confidence had been a lot worse than she initially thought. "Your wings are not the reason that I fell for you, Angelo," she murmured, swaying softly under his lead as she spoke. "They may have helped in getting my attention, but they were not the reason I became interested in you." Her tone was somewhat stern, yet still held the softness she always carried with her when she was talking to her boyfriend, mostly because she couldn't feel any other emotion than adoration when she was with him.

The spin was, without trying to be dismissive of Angelo's capabilities, a little risky and she was sure to remain light on her feet so she didn't accidentally fall into him. The part Veela was no match for his dance partner, she knew that, but the moments like these were the ones that she looked forward to. The close proximity, the gentleness with which he treated her, it made her feel so much safer than she thought she ever could. "Victoria, yes," Lucelia said, smile faltering a little as the way he stuttered over the concept of 'before'. "It really is touching, don't you think? Her recovery, I mean."

All of the warmth that was radiating off her seemed to dissipate into the air around her as he withdrew, her muscles tightening in fear that she'd done something wrong. Lucelia tried to think of a response to his questioning, but no words came to neither her mouth nor her brain. "I-..." she breathed, panic washing over her entire being as she slowly closed the space between the two, shaking her head and letting her brunette locks float around her.

"I'm just damaged goods."

His words hurt her, for some reason, and for a while she didn't know why. Damaged goods felt almost like an insult to her, accusing her of being a fool for staying when he felt like she should have gone. She sat down at his side, putting an arm that seemed too skinny up against his still muscular frame around his waist as she rested her forehead on his shoulder, her lips pressing into his arm for a moment. "You know that's not true," she assured him, not attempting to stop him tugging at his hair because he was too strong for her and she knew that.

"You are nothing short of perfect, nothing short of wonderful and nothing short of mine. Damaged goods is bull, and you know that, Angelo... I love you, I wouldn't say it if I didn't men it and you know fully well that I'd never lie to you."

"I know," murmured Angelo, looking away. And he did know that, somewhere, that Lucelia didn't love him because of his body, she loved him because of him, but it didn't change the fact that he was still damaged and had the scars to prove it. And maybe it was because he'd never gone a day in his life with a blemish that these two were taking such a toll on him, but he still couldn't really bear to have them looked at, not when they were still so new to him. He might not ever be ready for them to be looked at.

Angelo smiled softly, thinking of the sunny smile Victoria displayed for everyone, even when injured. "Yes, it really is touching. If anyone deserved a recovery, it was her."

Snorting, Angelo almost shook her arm off, but couldn't find it in him to do it. If, against all odds, Lucelia still wanted to touch him, well he was too weak to want to fight with her. "It is true," he muttered childishly into his palms, which he'd moved to cover his face. Looking up, he added, "You may consider me yours, though neither Heaven nor Hell knows why, but I am damaged, Lucelia, you have to understand. Part of me is literally missing, a part of me I've never lived without. I'm just... not quite sure how to function yet." He looked Lucelia full in the face, trying to make her understand. "For years and years of my life, I wasted time and prayers wishing to be normal. But then I came to terms with it and loved who I was, but everything that I was was based on what I was and now that that's gone, what do I have left?"

What she really wanted to do was risky. Asking him if she could see the scars could go any way, really, and at first the witch didn't know if it was worth it. He was sensitive, and while it was far from what she was used to with Angelo, it was what she expected and it wasn't something that she minded. For the life of her, all she wanted to do was make him happy...

"Angelo, could I maybe look at them? I just want to see something." Hell with it she thought, speaking so softly and quietly that if he wanted to, he could pretend not to have heard, but at the same time she really just wanted to see. Wanted to prove to him that his scarring did not make him damaged goods, did not make him broken, did not make him any less perfect...

"What do I have left?"

Thoroughly fed up with the man's, for lack of a better term, failure to see his own beauty, the part Veela stood up and moved to be just before him. "Angelo D'Monica, you listen to me and you listen properly," she started, pushing his hands away from his face because she knew that he realised she was serious. The time for sweet talking and tentative kisses would come back around soon enough, and when it did she would met like butter in the Spanish sun in his arms, but now... No, now firm was the only way.

"What do you have left? You have me left. You will always have me. Seeing you like this-... It's insane! Never would I have pictured you so upset, creating all these flaws that deep down, you know aren't true!" Stop it, you'll push him away she reprimanded herself, taking a breath before kneeling before him. "I love you," she whispered, cupping his face in her hands, as if forcing him to look at her and realise how deeply those emotions ran. "A year went by and I never thought I'd see you ever again. I had given up hope, I had given up everything, and now you're back and you're really here and you're you and I just-... I can't..."

Lucelia's distraction came in the form of a lone tear on her cheek, shimmering innocently as if it was the cause of no wrong. "Why can't you love yourself the way I love you?" she asked, bowing her head and letting her hands fall, as did she, sitting on the floor with one leg clutched to her chest, looking up at a figure she could barely recognise in his pale, self-demonising state.

"You have me..."

Very slowly, Angelo slid his shirt up and over his head, discarding it on the ground. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, turning so his back was towards Lucelia. He knew what she would see. Even now, weeks after his Fall, the scars would be red and livid, inflamed looking. They would stay that way for the rest of his life, because wounds like these did not heal. He waited quietly, breath hitching as he thought of what he lost and what he had left (though Lucelia was and always would be worth it.)

Angelo watched with a small had smile on his face as his girlfriend began to rant at him, but it wiped away at her obvious distress. He guided her to sit on his lap, straddling his legs so they were face to face, resting his hands gently on her cheeks. "And never, ever think that you are not enough for me. Never think I regret coming back for you. I would go through the pain of my Fall every day if you were at the end of it, never doubt that."

Taking a deep breath, Angelo glanced away, then back before continuing, a hope growing in him as the rest of her words sunk in. "Do you- Can you really-" He paused for another breath, before leaning forward to gently rest his forehead against Lucelia's, laughing a little. "Of course you mean it," he said ruefully. "And here I've been, being an ass about it. You would never be that shallow. I promise to stop, or at least try. I might have bad days, but I think I'll snap out of it eventually." He buried his hands in her hair, gazing into her eyes wonderingly. "How on earth did I end up so lucky as to have you?" he asked. "I don't deserve you. But I'm a selfish person at heart, so I'm going to take what you're willing to give me anyway." He laughed. "How could I not?"