All his instincts were screaming at him to hate her. He could feel the demonic aura coming off of her in waves, radiating outwards and piercing his core. His years of angelic training were screaming at him to go over to the woman and dump a bucket of holy water over her head; to emblazon crosses on her body; to walk over to her desk and begin chanting bible verses in an attempt to exorcise her. However, another part of his mind was encouraging him to walk over to her and befriend her. After all, he was closer to demon kind than angel kind at this point. Being fallen had made him vengeful towards God and heaven, but the years upon years of holy training he had been forced to go through had instilled in him feelings of hatred and disgust towards demons and anything that was related to the devil. Changjo had been trained to act as a servant of God, and the lessons he had gone through still stuck with him to this day. And he hated it. He was fallen. God himself had cast him out of heaven and on to the damned Earth. Why did he still retain these feeling of obligation and duty to a man he detested?
Sighing, he shook his head, dismissing the thoughts from his mind. He could still feel the woman’s demonic aura in the air. It was choking and suffocating. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he furrowed his eyebrows together and leaned forward, as if the action would suddenly dissipate the darkness he felt surrounding him. Groaning, he stood up from the table and quickly walked around to a shelf on the left most far corner of the institution. Even with the distance between the two of them, he could still feel the blackness swallowing him, churning his insides and brewing dark thoughts in his mind. Pulling a book off of the shelf in front of him, Changjo began to disinterestedly begin thumbing through the pages in a futile attempt to distract himself from the feelings around him. It had no effect. Letting out a frustrated sigh, the fallen slammed the book shut and roughly slid it back into its place.
Walking back to his chair, he slumped back down into it, growing increasingly more agitated. He briefly wondered if the girl could feel his own aura. He was fallen, yes, but for the most part, he still retained angel-like qualities. HIs experiences with the vampire woman confirmed that he did still have angelic blood coursing through his veins, and the fact that he still possessed the ability to use telekinesis supported the idea. Granted, his telekinesis strength had diminished significantly since his fall, but he was still able to use it. The former angel debated on flinging a book at her, but promptly decided against it, as she would instantly know it was him as the two were alone in the library. His studies were long forgotten, the books and papers scattered in front of him, neglected. All he could focus on was the woman’s demonic aura filling up the entire room. He wondered if she could feel his glare on the back of her head. Why did he hate her so much anyways? She had done nothing wrong to him. In all reality, she probably would never interact with him if he was to leave her alone. But he couldn’t help it. His mind was conflicted between calling her an abomination and calling her a potential friend. There was no doubt that she hated God as much as he did. Sighing for the umpteenth time, he continued staring at the back of her head, debating on what to do.