this is my first Angelfall fic, so apologies for OOCness. just something little to help pass the time till book 2.

I stood looking out over the water. I knew that I had to turn around, and when I did, I would have to approach the angel that was on the other side of the bay. He was looking out at the sea, just as I was; but he was unaware I was here. That was what was making my pulse stumble in my chest, my fists clench and my stomach home to a collection of annoyingly constant butterflies. I had to tell Raffe I was alive.

I could see his black wings relaxed behind him, and his shoulders were slumped. His head was bowed, and he didn't look like the same angel I'd known before my 'death'. But I was no longer the same girl I'd been. I thought of Paige, and my mother, and what would happen to the world now the aerie had exploded: the angels would no doubt want retribution. That was kind of their thing.

I took a deep breath, curled my fingers a little tighter into my palm, and turned. But the angel was gone.

I traced shapes across the ground for a long time before I realised I was tracing his name. Behind me at the compound, people bustle around, living their lives as best they can. But fear is more tangible than ever since the attack on the aerie. Of course there are the protectors, the leaders into battle, like Obi; but there are many women who simply want to protect their children. To whom freedom comes second, and safety, first. I do not know what I think or what I want: my sister is safely with me again, but now she can protect herself better than I could ever protect her. My mother still does as she pleases. My mind wanders back to that moment in the aerie when I thought she was taking responsibility. Being a mother instead of putting that on my shoulders.

I scrub Raffe's name from the soil and stand. I turn away without looking back.

He's been hovering around camp at night, and so has not seen me. I saw him from my window one night, sat by the hut Paige and my mother sleep in. They are kept away from the rest of the camp and I think he is guarding them. I turned away from the window that night and curled into a ball.

I want to see him. But I am afraid.

I leave my cabin after darkness has fallen and venture into the woods, Raffe's sword clutched in my hand. I am alone in my cabin, as per my request, so my comings and goings are my own. Tonight I am angry, and looking for a way to bleed it out. I want to find a low demon and drive Raffe's sword through it. I want to call them out and find out what it's like to be the one destroying, rather than the one being destroyed. I want some small way to take back my world; the world that the angels have destroyed. They have tried to take everything from me. I want to take something back.

A small part of me is hyperaware that somewhere in the darkness, Raffe is probably lurking. I drive the thought from my mind. Tonight I am not ready to deal with the emotion seeing him will bring. Tonight I am all anger, all fierceness. Tonight I am the girl that drove his injured back into crooked nails, and pulled precious feathers from his wings.

I wait silently at the edge of the woods. I do not know if they will come; I do not know why they come or if there is anything I can do to make them. But I swing the sword at a tree to make a dull thud of the metal biting against wood and whistle, once. I hear nothing. I do it again, this time stamping my feet. Still, nothing. I exhale, frustrated, and step deeper into the forest.

Despite my anger, I almost scream when something appears in front of me.

Raffe stares at me as if he doesn't believe I can be here. But I am. I am. Now, seeing him, I wish I'd had the courage to go to him before; his shoulders have transformed from the slump I have seen him wear in the two occasions I've seen him since the aerie. We observe each other through the darkness, only slivers of moonlight revealing him to me. His handsome face reminds me of a dying man who has found a cure. A way to survive. Hope.

His voice is quiet. "You're dead."

"No," my body ejects the word softly.

"I held you." My mind leaps back to the night he kept me warm while I slept and dreamt about Paige. "I carried you. Your body was – you were limp in my arms." His voice is not strong and I want to stumble forward and embrace him, but I remember the last time I tried to do that, in these very woods.

"I was paralysed," I say measuredly, trying to take control of how painfully my heart is thudding in my chest. "But not dead."

He breathes in slowly, deeply, and then moves forward and pulls me to him. I gasp and his sword clutters to the ground beside us, his head tucking into my neck and his arms holding me so tightly I have to slide my arms around his waist and hold him back. I bury my face in his chest and we breathe together. His muscles are taut as if he does not believe he can relax, as if I will disappear. I whisper his name and he whispers mine and I swallow, hard.

"Angels needs hugs too, huh?"

He squeezes tighter and laughs into my hair, a low chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine.

I pull back slightly, and look up at him. Without thinking, I say, "I'm going back to bed. Do you want to come?"

My skin flushes when I realise what I have said, and half a smile dances over Raffe's face. It lights him up and although I am embarrassed, I am glad I have said it.

"I mean -"

"I know what you mean." He nods.

My eyes shoot open. I feel the softness of the empty bed around me and the cold of the early morning air. I am alone.

I roll over, and this time, I allow myself to cry.

Three days after the dream, I wonder if it was in part some sick premonition; I have Raffe's sword in hand and I am running, pelting through the forest, the low demons behind me. They are fast and I have been running for a long time. The sun has dipped below the line of the trees and dusk is closing in, bringing more of them out. They like this game.

I suppose low demons are the wrong name for them now, but I can't think of them like Paige. I can't imagine another sibling who couldn't save their baby brother or sister in time. I can't think about how the child was probably smart and funny, with a cute gap between their front teeth and hair in pigtails. I don't allow myself to. I pretend that Paige is not like them; she is different. We can fix her.

I keep running.

I am so out of breath I nearly want to give up. I am far from camp and have no idea how to get back there, but am glad, in a way. I have led the demons away from my family, from the families seeking sanctuary in Obi's camp. What is one sacrifice to save many? Paige and my mother will survive. They will –

One of the demons reaches me and I swipe at it with the sword. I have been practising attacking, but not while moving, and curse myself for it. All the protective training I've had cannot save me from this. There is not a martial art in the world that is designed to protect you from cannibalistic infants.

Its teeth just catch my skin as it snaps at me. The chattering and hooting noises they are making grow louder and surround me. This is not like the movies humanity used to watch before the apocalypse. They do not wait, one by one, to attack me, but swarm at me in the darkness. I swipe out with the sword. I am glad to have a piece of him with me as I die.

I wake slowly, to the feeling of being carried.

"…second time I've carried you like this. I'm not going to lose you again."

I don't open my eyes, but he notices my sharp intake of breath.

We stop for a moment and a door bangs, before we move somewhere slightly warmer than the cold outside air. My head feels strange and when he places me down on a soft mattress, I can only half crack my eyes open.

I feel his breath across my face as he crouches beside me and brushes back my hair. He leans forward so our foreheads touch and I moan softly, reaching blindly for him.

"When did this happen?" he breathes. "I'm not supposed to care."

I'm too exhausted to say anything, and do nothing but tug him to me as I fall asleep.

The next time I wake up I am completely aware, so I know that it is Raffe's arms I am curled in, his chest I am resting against. I nestle closer, not caring if it's a dream or real. My body aches and I remember running through the forest. I remember him carrying me and laying me down to sleep…

I look up into his face and see he is looking back.

The silence is tangible in the room, but neither of us breaks it as we stare at one another, eyes greedily taking in the others face.

Then he leans down slowly, eyes still on mine, and catches his lips against mine.

My hand reaches up to his shoulder as I unfurl like a sunflower to the sun. Our legs tangle together and his hand presses me against him tighter as our kiss deepens. Every time our lips pull apart it's to breathe shakily together before they meet again. His lips leave mine and begin to ghost down my neck. This is all new to me, but my body reacts to his touch as if it has done this a thousand times before.

"I thought you were dead," he breathes against me. "Penryn." He says my name reverently, like it's a gift. "Penryn."

I shake my head, my fingers curled in the hair at the nape of his neck as I gasp out, "just… paralysed."

We kiss again without speaking for a while, until I end up straddling his body completely. My hair creates a kind of wall between us and the small room we're in. He reaches up slowly and pushes one side behind my ear.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him finally. "How did you find me?"

"I've been keeping an eye on Paige and your mother. Who is slightly crazy, by the way."

"Slightly," I say, skipping past the topic of my mother, not wanting to focus on her. "Why? Why aren't you trying to get your wings back?"

He looks away from me, but his thumb continues to stroke my cheek. "I need to get Beliel alone. He's with Uriel and the others. It's not wise to attack now."

I nod. "I kept your sword safe."

He tilts his head. "Thank you. But I think its allegiance is with you, now."

"My allegiance is with you," I tell him. "So your sword is still with you."

He leans up and presses his lips to mine. I want to ask him about this, about his new wings, about Paige, about what happens next. And I will. But for now, I stop thinking.

There are a lot of questions to ask. There is a lot to face.

But I do not have to do it alone.