He wasn’t naïve of his beauty.
As one of the highest in positions in heaven, the cherub was no stranger to compliments and praises. Oftentimes, when he walks over the softest clouds beneath his sandals, Leviathan would often hear the murmurs and swooning of the other angels and heavenly creatures over his wings.
His wings.
They say that he had one of the most beautiful pairs. Luscious, thick feathers that glowed the brightest. Angels would kill and die for it. He could still remember some voices of jealousy that would creep into his ears. And as much as he hates to admit it, their envy made him wary of his surroundings when he should be trusting his own kind.
He fears that he would eventually get taken advantage of if he lets his guard down even in the slightest degree.
Maybe that
