Don't Do That Please

A delicate slender hand, it held up the chin of the demi-god who was frozen in place; unable to respond properly to the angel's gesture.

He finally parted his lips to say something, but he only let out a whimper.

It was confusing to even himself. He craved this kind of gesture for so long, it was unfortunate, especially from an outside perspective...the poor half-demon chasing after the angel so often at times. He longed to be held, longed for affection. Perhaps, that's just how it is with everyone. The wish to be loved, and to Uri--he was no different; he truly desired it.

But he found it impossible to believe that he could ever deserve it.

In the event, he could barely even bear it.

Ironic, was it not? To chase after something, but the urge to avoid it when it finally came your way. He was only so accustomed to the feeling of longing, that it felt foreign and unbearable when the angel finally held him so delicately.

"Don't do that to me," he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing. The angel blinked, his fair hand still touching the tan skin of the other, but he didn't say anything.

Uri's breath caught in his throat, before reaffirming his previous words to the seraph. 

"Don't do that, please."