the dark side of the sun.

warning: strong language.

I may not always know what's right, but I know I want you here tonight.

Ángela poked her head around Mallos’ legs and gazed up at Styx with huge, dark eyes. There was a gleam of cunning there. Perhaps there was a way the precocious four year-old could manipulate this situation to her will after all.

Mallos glanced down at her with a touch of wariness, but missed the calculating expression on his daughter’s face. He was more concerned about Styx being stupid enough to do anything… unpleasant, to the little angel. The Immortal One’s posture was relaxed but her jaw was set in a firm line and her words had a characteristic bite to them. Mallos didn’t usually mind Styx so much as a lot of the other originals – she was good for a laugh, at least, usually at her expense. Today, however… there was something about having someone unfriendly near Ángela which drove his blood pressure up a few notches. If Styx so much as brushed hairs with his daughter, she’d be re-starting her stupid cult in the Realm of the Dead.

“So take it to the Council, then.” He rolled his eyes and used magic to shove her backwards; not far, just far enough to be clear of the doorway. “I don’t give a shit.”

And he promptly shut the door in her face.

Unfortunately, he also shut the door in Ángie’s face. She stood staring at it for a second before slowly turning to face him, a very dangerous look on her face. Her big black eyes were welling up with tears, her pretty pink mouth was downturned and her lower lip had some serious wobble action going on. Mallos groaned internally.

“Please don’t cry.” He begged her.

Ángela paid him no heed. She screwed up her face in an ugly way and burst into tears. It was both tiresome and impressive that his daughter never did anything by halves: she never cried quietly, but always threw loud and disruptive tantrums. This one began with a piercing scream which settled into heartfelt sobs when she ran out of breath, tears streaming down her glowing cheeks. More than anything else – more than snakes, more than death, more than irritating Immortal Ones – Mallos hated seeing Ángela cry. He grabbed at the door handle and pulled it back open, only a couple of seconds after he’d shut it. Before he could stop her, Ángie bolted from the apartment and attached herself to one of Styx’s legs. She buried her face in it and continued sobbing, albeit more quietly, looking back across the hall at her father with one betrayed eye.

Well, great. No naptime and a visit from one of the most annoying people ever. What a perfect day. Mallos leant against the door frame and crossed his arms, trying not to look too irritated.

“For fuck’s sake.” He said emphatically.

I've learned enough to know I'm never letting go
Photography by Raul Soler


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