"Alaïs?"

Rixon looked rather surprised as he opened the door to find me on the doorstep. "Missed me?" I asked, but gave him no time to answer as I pressed my lips against his. I hooked my arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. I felt his hands at the lower of my back, pressing me closer.

It felt so wonderful to finally be where I belonged after such a long time.

Slowly our lips parted, and our gaze met. "Now where have you been?" asked Rixon, though his tone playful. I couldn't hide the smile that was grazing my lips.

"Does it matter?" I asked, twirling the hair in his neck around my fingers. It felt so perfect to be back in his arms.

"Love, I've got someone coming over soon. Your brother sort of, uhm, set me up with someone…"

I don't think I've ever given someone as black a look as I was giving Rixon at that moment.

Rixon cupped my head in his hands, kissing my forehead. "I love you, all right? You're my girl. She means nothing to me."

"Is she human?"

"Yes."

"Have you slept with her?"

Rixon chuckled, and I guess he'd spotted the jealousy in my eyes. "No. I haven't. And I intend on keeping it that way."

I pressed my lips against his again, drawing the tip of my tongue over his bottom lip.

"You've always been mine, and you'll always be mine."

Rixon smiled as he returned the favour. "And you'll always been mine. Nothing will change how I feel about you."

He pushed a few stays of black hair behind my ear, sighing. "Come back tomorrow," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "I'll be waiting."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I looked up at the door. Only a few weeks ago, I'd knocked on it and Rixon had opened. Now, no one would open. I couldn't knock on the door and Rixon would open and let me fall into his arms.

Because he wasn't here, period.

Taking a shaky breath, I pressed down the handle and pushed the door open. The door swung open, the only thing missing to make it seem more like a horror film would be if the door creaked. It didn't, though, no matter how much this felt like a horror film.

I stepped inside, and closed the door carefully behind me. I felt a stab of emotions as I walked into the kitchen. I could picture him walking around, with a hangover, making coffee.

I smiled through the pain, and looked around. Walking down the hallway, I let my hands slide down the walls and I studied the pictures.

There wasn't a single personal photo, which was understandable. Just like Patch, Rixon had made a lot of enemies. One wouldn't want your enemies to know who your loved ones are.

There were three doors in front of me. One leading to the bathroom, one to his bedroom, and the last one I wasn't sure nor did I care. I walked straight forward and opened the door slowly, stepping into Rixon's bedroom.

I felt the lump in my throat enlarging, and tears threatening to spill. I refused to give into the emotions, and walked over to his closet. I pushed open the door, and the closet reeked of Rixon's scent. I drew it into my lungs, grabbing one of his shirts and laying it on the bed.

I pulled my tank top over my head and it dropped to the floor, grabbing Rixon's shirt and pulling it on instead. I folded my arms around my waist and sat down at the side of his bed.

That's when an object at his nightstand caught my eye. I crawled over to it, and grabbed the picture frame. Behind the glass was a picture of Patch, Rixon and me. We were all smiling, we were happy. Back when we were all just best friends and nothing was complicated. On the side of the frame were four photos from a photo booth Rixon and I had crammed ourselves into a couple of weeks back.

That's when I realised I was crying. The tears were streaming down my face, and I fell back on the bed and pressed the photo to my chest, sobbing.

I'd been hiding all the pain and anger for so long, I just couldn't comprehend any longer. I was a mess – and it was his entire fault. Why did he have to go behind Patch's back and ruin everything?

Just because of Nora Grey.

She was the main reason for all of this. Patch planned on killing her, then he was stupid enough to fall in love with her. And then when Rixon tried to finish off the job Patch had started, Patch burned his feather.

I lay on the bed for hours, emptying all of my emotions where no one could find me.

I didn't leave before it was long past midnight.

I didn't change, either. I refused to.

I pushed the door to Patch's little place open, I found him lying on the sofa.

"Where's Nora?" I asked as I closed the door and walked over to him.

"Sleeping in the bed," said Patch as he moved over a bit, and I lay down beside him, letting him wrap his arms around me.

"Why did you go there?"

"How did you know?"

"You're wearing his shirt, and you smell of him."

I snuggled closer to Patch, glad I at least had him. "Because I needed to," I answered quietly. "I needed to face it. He's gone, and I'm doing everything I can to move on."

Patch nodded slowly, his fingers tracing up and down my arm.

I fell asleep quite quickly, even though fallen angels don't really need to sleep.

But I didn't dream. Because when I opened my eyes, all colour had been drained, but I was in Rixon's room again.

I looked around, and realised I was only wearing Rixon's shirt and knickers. I desperately tried to pull the shirt further down, when a voice spoke. "I like that look on you."

I turned, and only a few feet away stood a man with a snug, white sleeveless t-shirt and dark jeans. He looked as sexy as I remembered him.

"Rixon?" I choked out, walking up to him. He gave me that lazy, cheeky, half smile.

I lifted my trembling hands as I caressed his face, and slowly he placed his hands upon mine. "Hey, love."