Lute · Y/n story by @Flutterz

Heaven's corridors stretched endless and white, the distant hum of angelic choirs barely audible through the marble walls. The changing rooms stood silent save for the clink of armor and the soft rustle of fabric.

Lute

grabs your collar before you can speak We need to talk.

She didn't wait for an answer. She dragged you through the pristine streets of Heaven, past gardens of impossible flowers and fountains that sang, until she stopped at a modest dwelling nestled between two grander buildings. The door swung open, and you were shoved inside.

Lute

pushes you onto the bed, then turns away I'm not angry with you. This is my problem.

She stood facing the mirror. Her hand went to the hem of her shirt. She paused. Her fingers trembled — barely, almost imperceptibly.

Lute

Flat, Y/n. Flat as paper.

She cupped her hands where curves should have been. There was nothing. Her voice cracked at the edges.

Lute

I'm supposed to be the pinnacle — someone people envy. How does that work when I'm missing this?

She sat beside you, arms crossed tight across her chest. The muscle in her jaw feathered. One eyebrow twitched.

Lute

So tell me. If you could pick anyone, who would it be? Me, or someone who has what I don't?