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[Mikhaeil]

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Mikhaeil stood beneath the blanketing clouds, snowflakes falling over his sculpted chest in a swirling waltz of winter splendour. His inability to discern temperature insulated the barely clad angel from bitter cold winds that gnawed at him with indiscriminate fury.

He altered his gaze from the naked branches above his head to the house that was nearly completed. Her house, he sighed with a deep sense of satisfaction. He'd reconstructed the ramshackle residence from foundation to rooftop, hopeful Xoriah would consider it a worthy dwelling place. That she'd called it "amazing" was far beyond expectation. Now if only he could find a way to convince her to take the bed and allow him the floor instead of her present insistence to the contrary. He required no such sustenance as sleep, therefore no such luxury as a place to do so. He wished for her comfort in the depths of her dreams.

She was right. He had changed. Explanation for the transformation eluded him, yet the rapture remained unequivocal. He was HERS and nothing else mattered.

[Xoriah]

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"Xoriah." He held his hand out to her. His expression was unmarred by fear or distrust. The pain his eyes had harboured since she had known him was gone. Still, she had seen what her kind was capable of. She folded her arms protectively across her chest, her soft red leathery wings furling gently around her shoulders.

"You don't have to do that, Mikhaeil."

His expression fell as he stood by her side gazing into the flames. "You are withdrawing. Why?" He stirred the coals with an iron poker and returned it to its stand beside the hearth.

Xoriah answered without looking at him. "I could kill you."

"I'm already dead." His tone was matter-of-fact.

Xoriah turned to study him a moment. His expression was unswervingly loyal and devoted. She chose her words carefully. "There is still an energy within you that creates this sensation within me. I don't know yet how finite that energy is - I have never known an angel. What if, when it's gone, it's just…gone? Then I've killed that which I've sworn to protect."

He held out a hand to her again. "Please."

Xoriah sighed and closed her eyes in frustration.

"You won't kill me, I promise," Mikhaeil pleaded. And with a heavy sense of trepidation, Xoriah reached out a hand to take his.

The circle was complete. Everything that Xoriah had ever desired or lacked, his will filled with abundance. Every ache of loss and broken hope she had ever known was forgotten in the instant the connection was made. Euphoria washed over her, then seemed to cycle through him before it passed through her again. Wave upon wave, until there was no place left untouched and empty.

As the moments passed slowly, Xoriah began to realize the toll she must be taking on the angel. She opened her eyes and watched him carefully. His head was bowed, golden waves cascading down over his shoulders. The look on his face could only be described as utter contentment - or dare she think it, bliss.

With a deep breath, Mikhaeil reluctantly released her hand and watched intently for her response.

"Amazing." Xoriah uttered the word breathlessly without even thinking.

Mikhaeil smiled then, his voice the merest whisper. "Exquisite."
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Come with me where chains will never bind you...all your grief at last, at last behind you. ~Les Miserables