He was never meant to wear a halo.
They called him RG—just the letters, sharp and hollow, like the echo of a gunshot. To the underworld, he was a ghost with bloody knuckles. To her, he was the angel who forgot how to pray. her ruthless warrior rg angel vk
And that was enough. No redemption. No prayers. Just her ruthless warrior, wearing his violence like a vow, and the quiet way she held him—fragile as stolen light. He was never meant to wear a halo
Instead, she handed him a blade. “Then fight for something worth the blood.” sharp and hollow