Bont stood at the window, staring out at the endless sky. Tiny dots flitted across the horizon—others who were free.
"Who are they?" he whispered, his breath fogging the glass. "Are they like me? How does it feel to interact with others so easily? How does it feel to be free?"
He pressed his palm against the cold pane, his small hand trembling slightly.
"Where did I come from? What did I do?" His voice cracked under the weight of questions no one would answer. "What am I being punished for?"
His gaze drifted to the expanse beyond the window, a longing ache swelling in his chest.
"I want to fly," he said softly. "I want to play with other kids. There are other kids out there… aren't there?"
But the silence was his only reply.
Loneliness pressed against him, heavy and suffocating. What could be worse than this—this overwhelming isolation, compounded by not even knowing why?
***—***
The large mirror in Bont's room sparked, and Rapunzel's image shimmered into view.
"I thought you forgot about me," Bont said, his tone betraying a thread of genuine anxiety.
"Not at all," Rapunzel replied with a reassuring smile.
Her response brought a wave of relief, easing the tension that had built in his shoulders over the past few days. Talking to her had felt natural, almost effortless. Yet a whisper of doubt lingered, shaped by Shepha's warnings. Rapunzel's aura of light and shadow was certainly unique. Could someone with opposing energies be trusted? Or was he blinded by his desire for freedom?
He caught her gaze again, warm and steady, and the doubts faded. Her energy radiated honesty and kindness, something Shepha's teachings couldn't account for. She was an Unclaimed, her aura would eventually solidify to angelic or demonic. Bont secretly hoped for the former.
"I've been trying to figure out how to break the spell," she said, her voice drawing him back to the moment.
"Really?" Bont asked eagerly, his wings fluttering with excitement. "Will you help me?"
"I'll try. But I can't promise anything."
"I'm so grateful to you!" he said earnestly.
Bont sat down cross-legged on the floor, mirroring Rapunzel's position. She tilted her head, watching him thoughtfully.
"Bont, who are you?" she asked at last.
"An angel," he said simply, then added, "Or is that not what you meant?"
"I don't know…" Her brows furrowed as though searching for the right words. "There is something special about you."
"Well, there's something special about each of us," he replied with a faint smile.
"Hmm…" She still looked unconvinced. "You must have a past."
"On Earth, you probably got used to the idea that everyone should have a childhood, parents, some kind of life story," he said. "In Heaven, everything is much simpler… or more complicated. It depends on how you look at it. I was asleep for a long time. I have no past, but now I have a present."
Rapunzel's eyes lingered on him, her curiosity unabated. "Are you always alone in the room?"
"No," he admitted. "Archangels and Seraphim visit sometimes. They teach me, help me unlock my powers, and…" He hesitated, his tone dropping. "They ask me to meditate."
"Meditate?"
He nodded. "It's how they get into my subconscious."
Her brow furrowed again. "Why would they do that?"
Bont hesitated, Rapunzel's unwavering gaze seemed to pull at truths he wasn't ready to face, but he forced himself to answer. "I don't know," he said at last.
"And you just let them?"
"I've got nothing to hide." The words felt heavy in his mouth, guilt pricking at him. He thought of all the things he was keeping secret—his visions, Rapunzel, the mirror shard.
"Why does Shepha keep you locked up?"
"He says it's dangerous for me to go out. That I'm weak, and someone might take advantage of that."
"Malbonte, for example?"
Bont's smile faded. "I think so."
"Why would Malbonte need you?"
"I don't know," he admitted. "But for some reason, he does."
Rapunzel leaned back, her brows narrowing as her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it seemed she would press further, but then she shook her head. "Back to business," she said briskly, as if shaking off the weight of the conversation.
Bont was relieved. Dwelling on the reasons behind his confinement always threatened to sap his resolve—and right now, he couldn't afford to lose his focus.
"I didn't find much in Hell's library," she said. "I came across a book that mentioned the Great Sorcerer responsible for many old spells. His name is Fidero." She sighed, her frustration evident. "But there's no real information about him. I'm afraid it's a dead end."
Bont's gaze grew distant, his thoughts drifting. "When I first woke up, I couldn't sleep. Nightmares tormented me."
"Visions?"
"I think so…" He hesitated, his voice dropping. "I can't even say what I dreamed about, but they scared me. Because of that, I stopped sleeping."
Rapunzel's expression softened. "What happened then?"
"One of the archangels began telling me stories—legends, really. They helped chase away the nightmares." A faint smile touched his lips as he recalled the comfort those tales had once brought. "One of them was about Fidero. They say he grew tired of his endless life. He wanted to dispel his consciousness and become everything and nothing at the same time."
Rapunzel leaned forward and asked eagerly, "What happened to him?"
"He turned himself into the wind." Bont's smile deepened, his tone tinged with wistfulness. "They say you can still hear his voice if you listen carefully." He chuckled. "It's a great story, isn't it?"
"Maybe it's not just a story," Rapunzel said thoughtfully.
"I don't know," Bont replied, his voice filled with quiet yearning. "But it would be wonderful if it were true." He glanced out the window, his gaze unfocused. "Sometimes, I wish I could disappear into the wind too."
For a moment, silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring drawn to its limit, heavy with the weight of his confession. He had never spoken these thoughts to anyone before. Yet with Rapunzel, the words felt lighter, as though releasing them into the open air loosened something tightly wound within his soul.
Some noise outside his room caught his attention. He tilted his head, listening intently.
"What's going on there?" Rapunzel asked, leaning forward, trying to peer farther into his room.
"Just a moment," said Bont. He stood quickly, crossing the room to crouch by the keyhole. Peering through, he saw guards carrying trays of food down the corridor toward the cell block. Straightening, he returned to the mirror.
"They're delivering food to the prisoners," he said.
"Ah! So, that's where they're being held," Rapunzel remarked.
"Do you know who's locked up in there?" Bont asked.
"My mom and Adimiron Winchesto."
Bont blinked, startled. "Your mom? But you're an Unclaimed."
"She died when I was little. Now she's a Seraph," Rapunzel explained.
"How strange…" Bont mused. "I didn't know the Unclaimed could ascend to such power."
"I have so many questions for her…" Rapunzel murmured. "I'm really worried about everything since the verdict came down."
A pang of guilt shot through Bont. While he was consumed with thoughts of escape, Rapunzel had been bearing the heavy burden of her mother's imprisonment. He hesitated, the question sticking in his throat before he finally managed to ask, "Why was your mother imprisoned?"
"For breaking the law of segregation," Rapunzel replied. "My mom's an angel and Winchesto is an inborn demon."
A chill ran through Bont. The Law of Segregation was sacred—a violation of Harmony that was considered an act of defiance against Shepha himself. Perpetrators faced severe punishment, and the weight of that knowledge made him pause. It was the kind of rebellion he had been taught to fear—and yet, for a fleeting moment, he wondered if such defiance had ever come from a place like his own: longing for something more. Before he could fully process his thoughts, Rapunzel continued.
"My mom was sentenced to a hundred years of imprisonment," she said, her voice tight with barely restrained emotion. "But Winchesto… he's been sentenced to death."
"I'm sorry," Bont said sincerely. "Do you know Adimiron Winchesto well?"
"I've actually only spoken to him once," she confessed. "But it feels like I've known him for much longer. He was very kind to me—mainly because I'm…well, Rebecca's daughter, I think. He told me that he and my mom were in love during their student days, but they decided to part ways. They didn't want to compete with each other."
The decision they had made seemed practical, if cold. Now, knowing how their story was ending, it carried an unbearable sadness. To have parted with good reason only to falter out of emotion—Bont felt the tragedy of it all.
Rapunzel's gaze sharpened, locking onto his through the mirror. "I want to talk to my mother. Help me meet her—a favor for a favor."
"You don't have to help me to ask for my help," Bont said, a warm smile brightening his features. "Your request is doable." It was the least he could do to ease some of her worry.
"Can you get me past the guard?" Rapunzel asked, her eagerness breaking through her earlier dejection.
"There's no need," Bont replied, a hint of pride in his voice. "I'll turn the mirror into a portal directly into your mother's cell. I know where she is. I… overheard the guards." His expression faltered slightly as guilt flashed in his eyes at the admission.
He folded his arms and closed his eyes, focusing intently. The reflection in the mirror darkened, swirling like a whirlpool. Rapunzel hesitated briefly, then extended her hand toward the glass. Her fingers passed through the surface, and moments later, she disappeared into the portal he had created.
Minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. Bont sat tensely, his wings twitching with restless anticipation. When Rapunzel finally reappeared, her face was pale, her expression heavy with troubled thoughts.
"How did it go?" Bont asked, concerned, as he moved closer to the mirror.
"There was too little time," she replied, her frustration evident. She sank to the floor in front of the mirror, her shoulders slumping as though in defeat.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Bont offered gently, his tone careful, unsure whether she wanted to share.
Rapunzel ran a hand through her hair, her gaze distant. "The conversation with my mom was… strange. It was like we'd just seen each other a few hours ago, as though our meeting was something ordinary, trivial…" She trailed off. "Like she never died."
"When did she die?" Bont asked, his voice filled with curiosity and empathy. Though he had no parent besides Shepha, he couldn't help but feel a deep ache for Rapunzel's loss and distress.
"When I was five," she replied, her voice quieter now. Her lips pressed together briefly before she continued, "She's changed so much. I want to feel angry at her coldness, but all I feel is…confused. She's become so…" Rapunzel paused, her hands clenching in her lap.
Bont's gaze softened, and for a moment, they simply sat in shared silence. "I'm so sorry," he said, not knowing how to comfort her.
"Thank you." Rapunzel waved a hand in dismissal. "Anyway, that's not important now… She told me she didn't intentionally break the law."
Bont frowned. "What did she mean?"
"I didn't get a chance to ask her. There were footsteps coming toward the cell, and I had to leave," Rapunzel said, shaking her head in frustration. "But I believe her. My mother would never do anything to jeopardize her position. She's too ambitious for that."
Bont was a little taken aback. Her faith in her mother didn't seem rooted in their bond but rather in her assessment of Rebecca's unyielding drive. He chose not to comment, sensing it wasn't the moment to delve into that.
"It's hard to imagine a Seraph being coerced," he said slowly, his mind running through possibilities. "But it's not impossible. A powerful charm or spell could force someone's hand… though such magic would be incredibly complex and rare."
Rapunzel's gaze sharpened, her eyes narrowing slightly. "So, it's possible?"
"Yes," Bont admitted cautiously. "But who would have the power—and the motive—to do something like that to a Seraph?"
Rapunzel's jaw tightened, and she looked away. "I don't know. But maybe it was the same immortal who killed me."
Bont froze, startled by her words. He recollected that the last time they had talked, Rapunzel had asked him to help her find her killer.
"Why do you think an immortal killed you?"
Rapunzel hesitated, running a hand through her hair almost reflexively. "It's… a long story," she said finally, her voice heavy with weariness. "I'll tell you later." She stood abruptly, brushing off her skirt. "I need to clear my head. I'm going to take a walk."
"Oh, of course!" Bont replied quickly, though he still felt concerned. As she began to move away from the mirror, he couldn't stop himself.
"Rapunzel!" he called out.
She turned back, her eyes questioning. "Yes?"
"Everything will be fine," he said, his voice steady and filled with quiet conviction.
Rapunzel blinked, as though startled by the sincerity in his tone. The heaviness in her expression softened slightly, and a small smile ghosted across her lips. "Thanks, Bont," she murmured. Then, with a lingering glance, she turned, and the connection faded.
***—***
Bont remained seated for a moment, staring at the now-empty mirror. He could sense the depth of Rapunzel's sorrow and frustration, as well as her yearning for clarity. It was clear how much she cared for her mother and how heavily the situation weighed on her. Both times she had asked him for a favor, it had been about her mother. To see her again, but under such circumstances, must have been overwhelming.
Even as concern for her tugged at him, a gentle warmth bloomed in his chest. Rapunzel had trusted him—confided in him, leaned on him, sought his help. She had seen him as more than just a helpless angel locked away in need of rescue. The thought filled him with a quiet, unfamiliar pride. Only now did he recognize the contrast: the Seraphim and archangels treated him as though he were still a child, expecting silent obedience, as if he couldn't possibly grasp the complexities of their world.
Rapunzel, though, was different. She didn't instruct him or speak down to him; she spoke with him, as though his thoughts and opinions mattered. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he stood on equal footing with someone. Was this what friendship felt like? The thought was tentative, almost foreign. He had often yearned for a friend during the long stretches of solitude in his room, but this was different from anything he'd expected. Friendship, as it turned out, was simpler, warmer, and far more enlivening than he had dared to imagine.
Bont felt a flicker of genuine hope—not the desperate longing that had always fueled his escape attempts, but a steadier, more comforting kind. Rapunzel's determination to act, to find answers, was inspiring. With her help, maybe—just maybe—he could truly find freedom at last. And in turn, he resolved to do everything in his power to help her find the answers she sought.
***—***
When Rapunzel returned to his mirror some days later, the first thing he noticed was her energy. Her face glowed with excitement, her voice bright and animated, as though the weight of their previous conversation had lifted just enough for her to breathe again.
"Bont!" she called, practically bouncing on her feet.
Bont immediately moved closer to the mirror, his wings fluttering slightly in anticipation.
"What is it?" he asked, a smile tugging at his lips as her enthusiasm filled the room.
"Guess what?" Rapunzel asked, beaming as she leaned closer to the glass.
"What?"
"I spoke to Fidero!"
For a moment, Bont was speechless. His eyes widened in awe, and then a wide grin broke across his face.
"You're brilliant!" he exclaimed.
Rapunzel blushed, though her smile only grew wider.
"Tell me everything," Bont urged, sitting down cross-legged on the floor, his full attention on her.
Rapunzel mirrored his position and began recounting her story, her voice animated and full of wonder. Bont hung on her every word as she described how she had deduced that flight was the key to hearing Fidero. He tensed as she recounted plummeting in a steep nose-dive from a clifftop. When she explained how in her free fall, Fidero had appeared, enclosing her within giant wings, Bont felt a shiver run through him. Finally, she repeated the Sorcerer's riddle about the spell.
Bont stared at her, lost in admiration. Rapunzel had spoken to a figure most considered a myth. The sheer courage it must have taken to hurl herself into a dive, trusting only in the faint hope of hearing his voice, left Bont awestruck.
"You're incredible," he said, unable to keep the awe out of his voice. He wasn't sure what amazed him more—her boldness or the sheer audacity to attempt something so dangerous for answers.
"Stop it," she said, shaking her head lightly, though the pride in her eyes betrayed her. "Let's move on to the riddle."
Bont leaned back against the wall, his wings stretching slightly as he gazed at the ceiling. "Everything has a beginning and an end. But endless is the path that leads nowhere," he murmured, repeating Fidero's riddle. His brow furrowed in thought.
"That must be about the enchantment on the stairs, right?" Rapunzel prompted.
"Y…yes…" Bont's voice trailed off, his expression pensive. His gaze shifted to the door and the unseen staircase beyond—an ouroboros swallowing its tail. "The path that leads nowhere…" he echoed softly.
"What are you thinking?" Rapunzel asked, her tone sharpening with curiosity.
Bont turned back to her, his eyes alight with a dawning realization. "It's not about how many times I try. It's about finding the right way forward." He paused. "Fidero's riddle isn't just a clue—it's a reminder. The staircase doesn't lead anywhere because it wasn't meant to. I need to stop thinking of it as an obstacle."
Rapunzel's smile widened, her excitement infectious. "Let's move to the next part of the riddle: If you drench a feather in the sacred river, it will glow in the dark," she recited, her voice dipping with the intrigue.
Bont tapped his lips with his fingers as he pieced the clues together. "The feather…" he muttered, more to himself than to her. Then, enlightenment dawned, shadowed by an almost imperceptible heaviness.
"You've figured it out!" Rapunzel exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I couldn't make head or tail of it, but I had a feeling you would." She grinned, her pride unmistakable. "Now we can move on to the next step!"
But Bont didn't return her smile. His shoulders slumped, and a shadow crossed his expression. "No," he said quietly.
Rapunzel blinked, her smile faltering. "Why not?"
Bont was silent for a moment, his mind racing. Then he said, "Thank you, Rapunzel. You've already done so much for me." His voice softened. "You're a good person."
"Why does it feel like you're saying goodbye?" she asked, her tone hesitant, worried.
"It's not that…" Bont rose to his feet, as though preparing to end the conversation.
"You don't want my help anymore?" Rapunzel pressed, her voice small but edged with hurt.
"I don't," Bont replied firmly, though his eyes betrayed his inner conflict.
"Why?" she demanded, leaning back and bracing her palms against the floor. Her gaze was fixed upward on him, searching for an answer.
"I'm afraid…" Bont hesitated, his wings folding tightly against his back. "I'm worried you'll get in trouble because of me."
If she continued helping him, she would be directly involved in his escape, risking punishment if caught. He had already lost his childhood mentor—the one who had given him the mirror shard—was he willing to risk Rapunzel too?
"Bont…" Rapunzel said softly, her tone gentle but resolute. "I sincerely want to help you! Every human and every immortal deserves a chance. Let me give you that." She smiled sweetly. "Let me help you live the way you desire."
Bont sank back down, his heart heavy but touched. "I don't know if I can ever repay you for all your help…"
"Don't worry about that now," Rapunzel said with a wave of her hand. "What did Fidero mean?"
Bont hesitated. He couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. Was he selfish for accepting her help, knowing the risks she faced? "Are you absolutely sure you want to get involved in this?" he asked.
"I'm positive," she said without hesitation.
Bont exhaled, his gaze steady on hers. "I hoped I could break free without your help, but… you'll have to take a huge risk."
"Tell me," Rapunzel urged.
"Do you know what the sacred river is?"
"The Metatron, right?" Rapunzel asked. "I believe there's a ruined city further down its banks."
"Yes. The Empyreon. It was destroyed during the great wars between angels and demons," Bont's voice reverent as he continued, as though sharing a sacred secret, "but the waters are said to carry the Creator's blessing."
"Let's hope it still does," she quipped.
Bont's continued, "You'll need to immerse yourself in its waters until your wings are completely soaked. Don't shake them dry when you get out—it's crucial that the feathers stay wet."
Rapunzel tilted her head curiously. "Why?"
"They'll glow as long as they are wet," he explained. "Wet wings are hard to carry, but they won't have time to dry if you choose a spot on the riverbank close to the tower. Just be careful as this may attract the attention of the guards."
"Will I be your beacon of sorts?"
"Yes." Bont smiled faintly. "Your light will guide me out of the tower and keep me from getting lost."
Rapunzel nodded thoughtfully.
"So, have you changed your mind yet?" Bont asked.
"No," she said simply. "How do I get past the guards?"
"I'll think of something." Bont promised, though uncertainty flickered in his tone. He looked at her—so confident, so determined—and guilt twisted in his chest. She was doing all of this for him, risking punishment and danger without hesitation. "If the guards catch you…" His voice faltered, the image of her being dragged away flashing in his mind. He quickly looked down.
Rapunzel studied him for a moment, her gaze steady yet unreadable. Then, slowly, she leaned closer to the mirror, her hands pressing lightly against its surface. "Bont, listen to me," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "I'm doing this because I want to—because it's the right thing to do." She hesitated, her eyes flickering away as if searching for the right words. "And because…" her voice wavered, and she looked down, her fingers tracing faint patterns on the glass. "I don't want to let another friend down."
Bont hesitated, though her unwavering conviction resonated deep within him. He didn't want to pry—it was clear her reasons carried a weight she wasn't ready to share.
"I still don't want you to get hurt," he said softly.
Rapunzel smiled, a quiet warmth lighting her features. "I won't. I'm tougher than I look, you know." Her tone was light, but the determination behind it was unmistakable. "We'll make a foolproof plan so we don't get caught."
Bont's lips curved into a genuine smile. "Thank you, Rapunzel," he said, a surge of gratitude washing over him. Freedom wasn't just the absence of walls—it was purpose. It was laughter shared across a mirror. It was someone waiting on the other side.
Her grin widened, playful yet resolute. "Don't thank me yet. We've still got a long way to go."
She fell silent, her brow furrowed thoughtfully as though considering something. She said, "Bont, how do you know so much about spells and things like this? You're so knowledgeable. Honestly, I bet you know more than ninety-nine percent of the students at the Academy."
"When you spend most of your time alone, books become your closest companions." He gave a self-deprecating smile. "Though most of my knowledge is theoretical. I rarely get the chance to practice my powers in any meaningful way."
Rapunzel tilted her head, her lips curving into an encouraging smile. "Well… we're about to change that."
There was something about the way she said it—lighthearted yet filled with quiet certainty—that stirred something strange and unfamiliar within him. Rapunzel wasn't like anyone he had ever known. Her fearless curiosity, her unshakable determination, and the way she spoke to him with genuine care—it made him feel, for the first time, like he was more than just a weapon to be guarded or controlled. Like he was valued for who he was, not for what he could do.
They worked on the finer details of the plan over the next few days, and with each interaction, Bont found himself increasingly drawn to Rapunzel. She occasionally shared anecdotes of her friends and of her visits to Earth on assignments, her voice alight with nostalgia and humor. Bont listened intently, captivated by the way she described her adventures. For someone who had known only the confines of his tower, her stories were like glimpses into a world he could barely imagine, and he drank them all in with quiet admiration.
One evening, after they had finalized their plans, Rapunzel stood up and stretched. "I have to get ready for the solstice feast," she said, walking to her closet. She began rifling through her clothes, inspecting pieces briefly before tossing them aside, only to repeat the process moments later with another set.
Bont leaned back against the wall, lazily watching her pick out an outfit. "Will you tell me how it went when you come back?"
"If I'm not too tired afterward," she said distractedly.
Apparently satisfied with her choice, she stood with an outfit draped over her arm. Her gaze flicked toward Bont, lingering for a moment, thoughtful but unreadable. He felt a soft warmth at her focus, marveling at how effortlessly she brought vibrancy into his quiet world.
Her lips curved faintly, melting away her brief gravity. She dropped her arm, letting the dress slip unceremoniously to the floor, and sauntered closer to the mirror. A playful glint sparked in her eyes. There was something different in her gaze, as though testing, probing for a reaction. It left Bont feeling both curious and uneasy, though he couldn't explain why. She came to a stop a few feet in front of the mirror. Without a word, she reached for the hem of her top and shrugged it off, letting it flutter to the floor.
Bont's mind went blank, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. With unhurried grace, Rapunzel unhooked the delicate undergarment covering her chest and let it fall, one strap at a time. The sight of her bare breasts sent a rush of heat to his cheeks, and his pulse thundered in his ears. Embarrassment overwhelmed him, and he turned his gaze away sharply.
Yet the image lingered, vivid and inescapable, burned into his retinae as if by fire. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Rapunzel's graceful turn, her movements fluid and teasing. Bont tried to avert his eyes, but his curiosity betrayed him. Slowly, hesitantly, his gaze rose again, tracing the smooth lines of her legs, the curve of her thighs, and the supple arch of her behind. His heart stuttered, and he quickly dropped his eyes to the floor once again.
"Am I embarrassing you?" Rapunzel's lilting voice broke the silence, light and teasing.
Bont swallowed hard. Her question hung in the air, daring him to respond. He hesitated but found himself speaking. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, he met her gaze, a mixture of apology and awe in his eyes. "I… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have looked."
Rapunzel's lips curled into a knowing smile, playful yet without malice. Her hands were splayed delicately over the curves of her bare breasts. For a fleeting moment, Bont felt a twinge of something—disappointment, perhaps?—but he quickly pushed it aside, startled by the thought.
"Have you ever seen a naked female body?" she asked, tilting her head, her smile widening.
"I don't know… No… Probably not," Bont said, his words tumbling out clumsily. "But when I looked at you, it felt like…"
"…like you're familiar with the female body?" Rapunzel finished for him, her voice playful yet curious.
"Yes…" Bont's thoughts flickered briefly to the Seraphim who had taught him over the years. Some had been women, but he had never regarded them in any particular way. Rapunzel, however, was awakening something new within him—unfamiliar sensations that left him unsteady. "You have a very beautiful body," he said, his voice unexpectedly hoarse, his sincerity raw and unguarded.
Rapunzel's teasing expression softened, her smile now tinged with quiet tenderness. "Sorry for the little prank," she said, her tone warm and genuine. She turned and walked back to her closet, stepping behind the door to change.
Bont averted his gaze, though it felt unnecessary now. His heart continued to race, the memory of her lithe and elegant figure vivid in his mind.
When Rapunzel stepped out moments later, she wore a striking blue outfit. The long, puffy sleeves framed her arms elegantly, while the fitted pants accentuated her figure. Her midriff was bare, the smooth skin drawing Bont's attention before he quickly returned his focus to her face. She spun in front of the mirror, the fabric of her outfit catching the light with a soft shimmer.
"What do you think?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Is it too flashy? Pretentious?"
"Oh no, you look lovely!" Bont said admiringly. His gaze lingered, unable to quite suppress his newfound awareness of her body. "Does everyone dress as beautifully as you?"
Rapunzel smirked, clearly amused by his sincerity. "There's no dress code. But many angels and demons like to dress to emphasize their affiliation. The Unclaimed, though, are usually too afraid to stand out."
"But not you," Bont said, his smile softening into something warmer, more relaxed.
"Earthly habits are hard to break." Rapunzel shrugged. "I'm used to dressing the way I like. And if it's not against the rules, why not?"
For a moment, their eyes met through the mirror, and the air between them hummed with something new—delicate, unspoken. Rapunzel laughed lightly, breaking the tension, and Bont felt a shy smile tugging at his lips in response.
***—***
Bont remained seated after Rapunzel left, staring into the mirror, which now only reflected his room. The room felt quieter, heavier, as though it struggled to retain the vibrant energy that had seeped through into his world. His wings fluttered restlessly against his back, their soft rustle brushing the floor. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes as his thoughts wandered—or, more precisely, returned to Rapunzel.
She was a study in contradictions—bold yet tender, playful yet serious, light and shadow intertwined. Her liveliness, her brilliance, and that teasing smile threaded through his thoughts like a lilting melody.
She didn't just exist in his world; she illuminated it. Whether it was her fearless plunge from the cliffs or her quiet determination to help her mother, her actions spoke of courage and conviction.
Then there was the way she had shed her clothes with a playful intensity. It wasn't just the act itself that left him breathless; it was the unspoken vulnerability of the gesture and the trust implicit in letting him see her so intimately. Somewhere, since their first meeting on the stairs, the line between innocence and something deeper had blurred, leaving him standing on the threshold of something new and profound. The shift left him unsure and yet strangely exhilarated.
Bont sighed, pressing a hand to his chest as if to steady the unfamiliar rhythm of his heart. For so long, freedom had meant the open skies and the wind beneath his wings. Now, it carried a different weight: Rapunzel's name, her laughter, her warmth—and the way she made him feel impossibly alive.
***—***