Fallen Angel

Felix decides that he's better off falling from grace.

Felix stared at the photograph in his paws; his first date with Glide, a trip to a small traveling circus. He smiled slightly, remembering the events of that day, but the smile quickly faded. "F****r..." He hissed, tearing the photo in half. "You broke my heart... I'll pay you back by ripping yours out!"
He stood, his daisy dukes shredded in a matter of seconds by his claws. He pulled on a pair of extremely baggy black denim pants that barely fit him. He slipped a belt on, then laced up a pair of black sneakers. His goal was set in his mind; his new mission was to eliminate the one he once loved.
"I can do it." Felix stated, looking in the mirror. A stranger stared back at him from behind the glass, and for the first time, he couldn't remember the events that led up to his death. He was free. He had fallen from grace, his formerly angelic wings black as the night, but by the gods, he was free.
He stepped into his bathroom, staring into another mirror. Something dawned on him; the fur had to go. The beautiful mauve fur and long mane were symbols of his previous life, when he had been carefree and stupid. When he had fallen for a man that would break his heart. It would take a while, but he would do it, because he had to. He couldn't keep anything to remind him of that old life.
As if in a trance, he reached out and grabbed a pair of scissors.

...

When Felix finished, his once beautiful hair was all but gone. He set the scissors down, sighing softly as he set to dyeing his fur.

...

White. Felix thought, pulling his clothing back on. Falling never looked so good.
He cracked a small smile, almost unwilling to believe what he was about to do. Well, that prick always told me I'm pretty enough to pull it off... He thought, looking over the objects on the counter that he was about to vandalize his own body with. Eye liner. Lipstick. Nail polish.