>Head Back
You check your flip-phone for the time and note how it's getting to midnight. As fun as the festivities around here are, you got what you came for and then some. Maybe you can squeeze a shower in before hitting the couch for some long awaited sleep in preparation for tomorrow.
It's going to be a long walk back to Eiko's place.
You only spare quick glances as you leave, the sounds around you all dull thuds. Steadily, you weave through the crowd, movements practiced, head up but not high enough to be noticeable.
When the cold night air hits you this time, it stings like a slap. The streets are nigh empty. Quiet. The party behind you thumps and thuds against the night with barely a dent in its exterior. Ahead of you, there's slight rustles of wind and lone cars passing by in the distance. Still too quiet for your own mind to be sufficiently distracted. You always try not to think about your situation too long, but meeting those travelers reminded you of how alone you are. Are you lonely? Of course. But what can you do? With those angels around?
The only face you see more often than your own is your Archangel's. Despite how you both long to end each other, you cannot help but be... comforted by the sight of her. You've known each other for what feels like the start of this life. Even when you feel dead, seeing her reminds you that you are alive. That you want to live. However spitefully. That for as long as you are alive, that she will find a way to keep chasing you. Endlessly.
You don't know much about her life, really, she refuses to do more than stab you, call you names, and have a guilt-ridden meltdown after you fuck. Maybe spares a few thoughts that she's too scared to tell anyone else. But in a way, you think you do know her. You know that she is around your age, that she's prideful, cold, and that she has a deep hole in her chest that matches your own. She just thinks that it's full.
You know what name they assigned her. Haziel. Because they have to strip everything out of you that existed before them.
You call her Haze. It feels fitting. You sure felt hazy on your first encounter and she sliced your face down bloody.
Ah... Someone's following you.
It wouldn't be Haze, she doesn't follow. She hunts.