This was inspired by Truly Unruly's Fool's Rush In. I apologize ahead of time for the sad and cheesy ending.

Angel was excited. She flipped the egg in the frying pan carefully, and then buttered the toast. She had amazing plans for today. But she was nervous. Angel didn't believe in holding feelings inside, because what if she died tomorrow, then those feelings would forever be left unsaid. So she had to do it. She, Angel Dumott Schunard, was going to tell Thomas B. Collins, that she loved him.

Angel treasured the word love. According to her, it was the most sacred word in the dictionary. That's why she never misused or overused it. Of course, she told Mimi she loved her, and Angel's Mama, but Angel had only ever told two men she loved them. That number was soon to be three.

Love, by its very definition, was an intense feeling of deep affection. Angel had loved other guys before, but they had never truly loved her back. And Angel was certain Collins did. But what if he doesn't? What if I say it and he can't say it back? Will we break up? Angel shoved those negative thoughts from her mind. Of course he loves you, Angel. But, the thought that he didn't kept crawling back into her brain.

Collins awoke with a start. He was drenched in sweat, fear pulsing through his body. Quickly, turned over, only to find cold sheets where Angel should have been. "ANGEL!" he shouted frantically.

Angel almost dropped the toast she was making. Collins' voice was so full of fear, she thought something had happened. "Collins?" she shouted back, her heels clicking down the hallway to check on her lover.

Collins breathed a sigh of relief when he heard her voice.

"Collins. Honey, what's wrong?" Angel met him at the side of the bed.

"You're still here, thank god," he said, pulling Angel into a hug. He squeezed her waist tightly, like if he were to let go, she would slip away out of his arms. "My Angel…" he said, taking deep breaths.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly, wiping the sweat from his brow off with a towel.

"It's… it's nothing," he said sheepishly.

"It's okay baby, you can tell me."

"I just, I had a dream you left. That you… you died."

Angel didn't know what exactly to say to that. She couldn't respond with, 'that'll never happen.' Because she knew it would, eventually. So she just kissed him.

"I'm not going anywhere, not yet," she said softly.

"Good," Collins said, wrapping his arms back around her waist. "Because I love you too much to lose you."

Angel smiled, then she realized something. "What? What did you say?" she asked, her head buried in his neck.

"I said I had a dream you died-"

"No!" Angel interrupted. "You said you loved me!"

Collins let go of Angel as if she had burned him. "Are… Are we not saying that yet?"

The anarchist's eyes shone with hurt. Angel's heart broke in realization of what she had just said. "No… no. I was… I was just-"

"Just what?"

Angel looked down at the floor, "Supposed to say it first."

Collins beamed, and smiled. "So, you love me?"

"I love you, Collins," Angel said, loving the way the words felt in her mouth. Angel loves Collins, Collins loves Angel.

Collins smiled, loving the way the words sounded coming out of her mouth. "I love you so much, my Angel." It may have been the first time they had said it, but it was most definitely not the last.

XOXO

"ANGEL!" Collins called out into the dark apartment. He frantically turned over in bed, but Angel wasn't beside him. He wondered if she was in the kitchen, or out on the fire escape. Then he remembered. She was gone. And this time, she wouldn't call out his name in response, then come running back to make sure he was okay. And never again, would he get to tell her he loved her.

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