Tired Doll

the Angel watches the Doll as it shuffles its cards. he shakes his head. “how did we get here? he had such a promising future...”

“she.“ “hu- oh. you.” “she.” the Demon shoots the Angel a look that would slay a mortal. the Angel merely rolls his eyes. “sure, fine, 'she' would never have dreamt of engaging in witchcraft before you came along.” “yes, well...” the Demon flexes her hand, admiring her talons. “you didn't protect her from the world. you, and the others, she trusted you, but you weren't there when she shattered.”

the Angel scoffs “that's not our role.”

“uh huh. and now she's mine.”