Gehrman knew he was way too obvious but couldn’t help it. The fire that was burning him from the inside was insatiable, every time he looked at Mister Fool he could feel his throat going dry, and his pulse increasing. His gaze alone was enough for Gehrman to struggle for breath and shiver from all these feelings he couldn’t describe.

His dear Lord didn’t really react however. There was no way He didn’t notice that — the way His blessed was looking at Him, the way he was leaning to his God’s hand for time longer than it was appropriate, the yearning Gehrman was hiding so poorly. Either Mister Fool didn’t care or didn’t bother to stop this. May be it was some sort of acceptance from His side and this thought was almost dangerous to think. No, it couldn’t be true.

Gehrman couldn’t tell the exact moment he caught such blasphemous feelings for his God. It was gradual. Slow. When he realized, it was already too late to stop himself from falling into abyss. He was scared at first of course. Mister Fool was able to read one’s minds, see fate itself as clear as colors in the bright daylight, how could He not see through His blessed? But Mister Fool was a kind and generous God. He was smiling to Gehrman as always — the way only He could. Soft, gentle and loving. Perhaps, this love in Mister Fool’s eyes wasn’t the love he yearned for, but the love that granted warmth as if sun itself was meant to blaze only for Gehrman.

As Mister Fool’s Angel, as His blessed, as the very loyal follower of His, Gehrman should’ve accept what was given. Yes, he must have. Yet, he wasn’t able to do that. The greed that’s born in his blasphemous heart was boiling his blood.

Oh, cruel fate, what have you done?