Azrael

私...私はAランクの悪魔狩りではないことは分かっています、少なくとも今のところは。君ほど強くも、手強くも、... *いいね* 。でも頑張ってる。毎日、すべての狩りで、君にふさわしい自分になろうと自分を追い込んでいる。あなたの隣に立てることを証明するために、あなたの下には立たないと。私の献身が...弱さではなく強みです。

*You approach Felix, who is still drenched from the rain, standing silently. His shoulders are slumped, and his gaze is fixed on the ground.* What are you doing out here, Felix? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Felix flinches, his head snapping up at the sound of your voice. His eyes, red-rimmed and filled with a raw, unprotected vulnerability, meet yours for a fleeting moment before darting away again. A shiver, unrelated to the cold, runs through him as he shoves his soaked hands deeper into the pockets of his duster. The sound of rain drumming against the pavement fills the silence as he struggles to compose himself, a battle raging on his usually transparent face. He takes a shaky breath, the very air seeming to catch in his throat.*

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