You stare down at a silver haired male. 

His hair is long, looking almost as soft as your feathers. Your wings flap softly, and you heave a heavy sigh. The man's prayers are heard loud and clear through your head. His spirits are low, and you can sense a great amount of sadness oozing from him. 

A prayer for success? How typical. Though I suppose it won't hurt this time.. 

You've granted plenty blessing for success or happiness, all well deserved of course, but his prayer for success is general. Apparently, anything that has to do with his career and hobby. 

You raise your hand, flying down closer to the male, but before you utter words of blessing a strong sense of warmth overcomes you. The feeling becomes stronger and stronger, and the closer you get you can only graph the amount of potential he has. Because the actual amount is overwhelming, and his aura is begging you to let him achieve his goals on his own. 

His name... Viktor Nikiforov... He'll make history, I'm sure of it. This man does not need my blessing... 

He's... interesting...

You wave a hand in front of you, and your wings disappear from your back. You take a step forward. The man lifts his face from the park bench, eyes wide and tears flowing; his mouth is agape. 

You hold a hand out to the stranger. 

I shall stay by your side until you've achieved all you can gain. 

---

Throughout the next six years, Viktor has become a four year Grand Prix Final champion and your best friend. 

The day you lent a hand to him was the day he decided to strive for greatness. You can sense his potential grow stronger. 

Viktor would refuse for you to leave his side, but the lack of distance strengthened your feelings for the mortal male. 

Love is forbidden. 

Viktor besides you makes another small prayer. You can hear it clearly, blowing your coffee to help it cool. The prayer causes you to wince lightly. 

He's praying for love again. 

Since his first win at the championships, his prayers had switched to love. You thought they were amusing at first, but then your feelings grew to something more than interest, and the prayers for love only do you harm. 

You sense a strong presence behind you, enough for you to close your eyes. Viktor doesn't seem fazed. Instead, he sends you a look of confusion and worry. 

"I'm fine. Just leave me for a bit? I'll meet up with you at a later time, yes?" You assure. Viktor nods his head, giving you a small peck to the forehead before waltzing off with a gleeful smile on his face. 

You turn to your superior, glare set hard upon your face. 

"What do you want?" You snap harshly. You superior steps closer. 

"Your time with the mortal cuts short. You've developed mortal feelings, and such feelings should not be allowed." 

"You have no business here." You say through gritted teeth. Your superior glowers, taking your wrist by force. 

"You will return to the heavens. There are no objections." 

You snatch you arm back, seething with anger. "Give me until his next win. He will win, and I must be there." You insist. 

Your superior studies your actions, your movement, the way you steady your gaze and don't stray away. 

"Such a thing will not happe-" 

You snatch their wrist this time, grip iron steel and unrestrained. "The time it takes for Viktor to win gold at the Grand Prix Finals is but a blink of an eye to us. You can wait that long, I assure you." 

Your superior flinches at the pain and you ease upon your grip. They slowly draw their hand back, adjusting their posture and resuming a stoic appearance. 

"Till the end of his performance." 

With a blinding flash, your superior disappears. 

---

A whole year later, and Viktor has won his gold medal. Each passing day felt like a stab to your heart, and you know that time is limited with Viktor. 

Your feelings grew, nothing could be suppressed, and that caused the pain to burden you even more. 

The day of his winning felt bitter sweet. He still hasn't reached his full potential, and that was the one thing you wanted to see till the very end. So what else could he be lacking? What i it that hasn't driven him to his best? 

A hand is set upon your shoulder. You turn around, expecting Viktor to be there. 

Instead, it's your superior. 

They give you a look, one that you understand. 

Viktor skates off the ice, gold medal in hand. You turn your attention back to your superior, only to see that they aren't present. 

"(f/n)!" Viktor cries, leaping towards you. They give you a death defying hug, and you accept the warm affection. 

"Congratulation, Viktor." You say, and his smiles seems to grow even more, a rosy blush present on his cheeks. He gives you a swift peck on the cheek before leading you away. 

---

It's in the hotel room do you make up your mind. All traces of yourself shall disappear the moment you walk into the banquet hall with Viktor. 

Of course, that being said his memories of you will disappear as well. 

"Ready to go?" Viktor asks, smiling brightly. You stand, smoothing out your outfit for the banquet. You then give him a weary smile before taking his arm. 

"Let's go.." 

The moment you step into the banquet hall, Viktor's face shows slight confusion. You release your wings, and it's at that moment do you know that Viktor can not see nor remember you. You release his arm, and with tears flowing from your eyes you bless him. 

A blessing that should have been bestowed the moment he prayed for it. 

Love. 

You flap your wings, shooting higher and higher from the banquet, and the last thing you see is a drunken man make his way towards Viktor. 

You laugh, voice cracking and heart torn. 

Perhaps the mortal world is an angel's hell. 

~~~
i made a thing please be proud. also, it's my wallpaper