She's not quite an angel or at least that's not what Nathanael would call her and yet from beside her in bed, it's the image that springs to mind.
It's almost unreal how angelic her face looks without the makeup and how innocent she becomes when she's not able to snark you into submission; it's not that she's completely bad, just her default action is to take authority of any situation. You can't be scared of people if everyone listens to you without fail.
Nathanael's hands tremble as if it's the first time that he delicately brushes her hair back, and a part of him wishes that she was awake right now though he doubts that he'll wish that for much longer when her snark becomes her normal, biting response. It's just that he likes the gentle moments where words don't need to be said, but she likes the routine. She'd told him after all when they'd first started dating that he was just a temporary replacement. The fact that that hadn't remained what he was had to be a sign in some way; he'd ended up marrying her after all.
"Chloe, how are you both my angel and not at all my angel?" His mutter is lost to the night around them as he lays down beside her, knowing that the morning will be chaos all over again. She'll be scrambling to find all of her lawyer paperwork, big books, hastily scratched down notes, and whatever else she needed for all the next few days before the case became just a passing adrenaline rush. Nathanael might just see if he had time to watch it even though court cases weren't movies; she was so beautiful and headstrong in court. No one could call her an angel there, a blessing, sure, from the people that she'd win their cases for, but never an angel. She's as cutthroat as can be in court, straight to the point, dancing on the border of harsh and professionalism.
Tomorrow though, he'd have to scramble to get his artwork together, spend ages slaving over his latest 'masterpiece' though neither of them call it that. Chloe calls it reality, almost realism, even though they both know that it isn't exactly what he sees that he paints, emotions, perceptions come to play in his artwork. He calls it his passion, the driving force that keeps him sane.
Nathanael though will have to get some sleep before his painting leaves him up all night again, especially if he wants to work on completing it before Chloe's case even though that wouldn't be the first case of hers he saw. She truly was practically a monster in the courtroom, people feared her, unless she was on their side. She could be absolutely brutal. Chloe's strong though, and Nathanael appreciates that more than anything.
He loops his fingers with her hands as he wonders if his brutal angel and him will have more to their future than nights of no sleep busyness or days spent both arguing and shouting and relaxing with a movie to unwind from a tough case or relieve himself from a painting or sketch or anything that's pushing him beyond everything and that he can't figure out. He's just thankful that she puts up with all of this, the craziness that their life has become.
Sleep sings to himself as he curls up by the woman that looks like an innocent angel in her sleep and yet can be brutal as soon as she's awake; he'll try to remember to kiss her in the morning among the rush that's somehow became their life, because if he doesn't, he'll wish he had.