“Saint, wake up,” Sin whispers.
Saint lays peacefully. His chest rises slowly beneath a slightly opened white shirt. His green plaits frame his face like a crown carved from chaos. She loves him like this: still, calm, & vulnerable. Royalty in his most intimate form.
Sin always puts Saint to bed after they combine energies during love rituals. Their connection isn’t ordinary—it’s sacred. Supernatural.
Sin is his lover, yes, but above all else— she is his healer. And Saint? He is Sin’s muse. Her muscle. Her reason. He needs her aura to stay alive, but she needs his power to feel real. His strength. His devotion.
They’re in their secret treehouse, built close to the stars where no one can reach them—only the gods can watch them from above.
Saint stirs from his slumber. He opens his deep brown eyes. A crooked smile spreads across his lips—diamond grills on his teeth flashes like starlight.
“I feel better now,” he says playfully. “I fell asleep. I’m sorry, beautiful,” he admits in a gentle tone.
Sin giggles lightly. She brushes a strand of her black-pink hair behind her ear. “This isn’t the first time,” she teases. “We’ll need all the stamina we can.” Her tone shifts. “It’s almost time. Are you ready?” She asks him.
Sin slides into her signature white shirt and leather pleated skirt. She fixes her black-and-pink-streaked hair in the mirror, & touches up her nude lipstick. She looks dangerous, divine, & drenched in purpose.
“Tonight is the night,” she declares boldly.
Saint rises from the bed. He pulls on his black trousers. The floorboards groan beneath his steps. He walks over to the window, & rests his palm against the frame. He stares out at the stars with the weight of goodbye heavy on his mind.
“I’m going to miss this place,” he murmurs. His deep voice cracks with emotion.
Sin moves behind him. She places a soft hand on his cheek to ground him. “Don’t look back, baby,” she whispers. “It’s already done,” she proclaims.
Saint & Sin are about to do something years in the making.
They are going off the grid. Vanishing. Disappearing like smoke into midnight. But first—they have unfinished business. Loose ends. People to confront. Fates to seal.
Sin
Sin wasn’t always this way.
Once, she was a product of control—polished, polite, & proper. Raised in a conservative household where women were taught to shrink themselves into palatable shapes. Sin had seen too many women in her family drown under the weight of pick-me delusions & broken self-worth. That was never going to be her story.
She was born to disrupt. She is a natural leader. A misfit. A rebel with magic in her bones, & a mind that can outwit the universe. Her pink-streaked hair became her crown. Her confidence became her weapon. She walked away from her past without flinching—& in the shadows, she found him.
Saint
When Sin found Saint, he wasn’t a King—he was a coward. He was scared. Silenced. A shattered shell wrapped in expectation. He came from a world of religious trauma, toxic masculinity, & control disguised as love. A prisoner of his own home. He was taught to resent his softness & deny his truth.
Sin saw through the fear. She recognized it—because she had once worn it too.
Saint studied how Sin moved through the world like a force of nature, & something inside him clicked. He followed her—not because he was weak, but because he was ready to become something more.
Everyone knows you can’t chain a Pharaoh. Not if you want his loyalty.
Give him freedom—& he’ll choose you every time with his own free will.
That’s what Sin gave him: Acceptance. Liberty.
To feel.
To fight.
To become.
She loved him back to life.
They found love in the void—In the death of their old selves.
And tonight, they will let it all go. For good.
“Let’s go,” Sin says calmly. “Don’t take anything,” she orders.
Saint looks at her—his divine mirror—and kisses her like the world was ending.
She smiles, & strokes his green braids. With one last look, she pours gasoline over the wood floors of their sacred treehouse. Every inch. Every corner. Every memory. Years of love, hiding, healing, & surviving soaked in flame.
Sin hands Saint the match.
He lights it.
Drops it.
And they watch their old life burn.
The fire roars like a dragon being freed from a cage.
Hand & hand they run away from the trees & don’t look back
No more hiding.
No more waiting.
No more chains.
Just two divine misfits— ready to go to war for their destiny written in the stars
To be continued…
Joker: “Question. Would you die for me?
Harley: Yes.
Joker: That’s too easy. Will you… Would you live for me? … Hmm?”
