Hi, everyone, it's been a while since I've actually written an author's note. Anyways, I don't own Teen Titans, TTG, or these characters. I own literally nothing.

Can you guess who the man is? If you've seen Angela/Arella's backstory in the comics you probably know...

It had been a week since Angela and the still nameless man had professed their love for one another. Since then the church was remembered by Angela as the place where she had met her loved one rather than the place where she had endured so much unhappiness. Not wanting to pressure him, she had stopped asking his identity after he had seriously clammed up the last time she'd asked.

Someone finally loved her. She was not about to ruin that.

Meanwhile, the members of the cult were secretive and did a lot of private talking. They mostly stayed locked in the extensively desecrated backroom with little light, holding meetings Angela and the man were never called to. But the other sectaries might as well have been invisible for all Angela cared. Her life, disposition, and attitude had completely changed ever since she and the man had begun "going together." If you had come up to Angela when she first ran away from her home and then came up to her now, you wouldn't have recognized her.

The two, sitting on their usual spots on the altar in front of a large display of the cross, were having a conversation. It was all going well until the man asked, "Angela, are you a virgin?"

Angela's face dropped and she flinched at the question. "What? Why? Huh?" This felt sudden.

The man backed away cautiously and threw up his hands. "Whoa, I did not mean to freak you out. It was just something I've been wondering."

Been wondering? Uh, what? But Angela managed to regain her composure. Just answer the question, Angela. It doesn't mean anything. Boys ask things like that all the time. And besides, he's not any other creepy dude. "Uh, yeah." She giggled sheepishly. "I know, it's embarrassing since I'm seventeen and all, but..." she sighed, then continued. "I just never really found the right person. And my parents-" she paused. Did she really want to bring up her parents? Yes, it was only for a second. As long as she didn't have to elaborate on them she would be fine. "-everyone around me always preached over and over, 'Don't have sex, don't have sex." Angela chuckled bitterly. "As if anybody would ever do that with me."

The man smiled sadly. He didn't like when Angela put herself down. "As if anybody wouldn't," he reassured her, taking her face in his hands, in which you could see the veins. Angela's face broke into a smile again and she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. That was something she never would've initiated herself with any other partner.

See? It is FINE, Angela told herself. There was nothing about this man that was hostile. He didn't have bad intentions, she knew that the very night she met him.

She pressed herself into his arms and relaxed.

The other people within the cult had been making themselves strangely scarce even more so lately. They always stayed upstairs, which had several more stained glass windows, velvety red carpet, and bedrooms that Angela and Angela only was not allowed in. The previous rituals continued to be ignored. The backroom was now roped off at the least but still remained a wreck. Brother Blood had only been seen once since the day of the sacrifice, along with many other members, and it had been a few days over a month since that happened. And the ones that Angela did see were always pointing at her whenever she was with the man, whispering with peculiarly guilty looks on their faces. But Angela simply took it as gossip, and whenever their worn but sharp faces would turn and stare at the couple she would simply smile at them and turn back around.

Today, as Angela was beginning to wake up, stretched out across her usual pew right in front of the altar, she opened her mauve eyes to see the man, standing over her with a big smile on his face, eyes glowing as usual.

"Ah!" Angela, not expecting to see him there, jumped and accidentally rolled off of the bench, her blanket falling with her over her face.

Through the blanket over her head Angela could hear the man's muffled laughter, and she snatched the blanket off of herself and tossed it back on the pew. "Aren't you a comedian," she snapped playfully, crawling up off of the ground and getting to feet. "Why'd you do that?"

The man finally stopped laughing, slightly red in the face. "I have a surprise for you," he announced regally but not loudly, leaning down and awarding her with a peck on the forehead.

"Oh, really?" Angela laughed again. "Was just now not enough?"

"Don't do that, I'll start thinking about it and I'll never be able to pull myself together." The man grinned. "No, Angel, a real surprise. I've got our whole day planned."

Angela's face brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah, you're going to love it. But first-" he took her hand- "breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Now Angela's face wrinkled in confusion. "I usually just wait until somebody brings something to me." Most of the time that didn't happen until something like noon, so it was quite close to lunchtime by the time somebody brought Angela her breakfast, which usually consisted of two pieces of toasted bread, an orange, and a glass of water. Every day since she has been in the cult. If she was lucky, she would get butter. She had to bathe using the simple restroom down here, which was rusty and squeaky, while everybody else was permitted to go upstairs to assuredly much better bathrooms.

Angela had never eaten a lot; she was quite a small girl. You'd probably assume she was something like fifteen instead of seventeen when you first approached her.

"Yes, I know." the man returned. "And it's pretty obvious that you need more than that."

Angela smiled wistfully. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I haven't even brought you upstairs yet!" the man beamed, starting to guide Arella toward the staircase. Then he saw Angela's frightened face and stopped. "Angela, what's wrong?"

"Um, nothing." Angela hesitated. "It's just that I'm not really allowed up there. What if there's something up there I'm not supposed to see?"

"I don't know about that, but there is something that I do want you to see, so come on!" the man exclaimed eagerly. Angela, despite having her reservations about going up there, saw how much this meant to the man, and allowed herself to be led up the staircase, running her hand along the golden railing. Maybe this wouldn't be bad.

Was she dressed okay? She'd never bothered to change out of the outfit she'd worn yesterday, a white shirt made of satin with a v-neck that made an "X" shape infront of her breasts, one side overlapping the other. Then she wore a pale pink skirt that climbed up right below her chest and had what appeared to be a ribbon around the top of the skirt. The skirt fell to her ankles in a ruffled display that gave her a very cottage princess-like look. Whenever she spun around the skirt went flying.

"Wait." The man stopped in his tracks and turned around to face the beautiful girl. "Um, do I look okay?"

Without hesitation the man responded, "You look like a goddess."

Once the two arrived into the second story, Angela winced automatically. She was expecting something to jump out at her, the way the others had emphasized her never coming upstairs.

But- after a few seconds, Angela let her shoulders drop. It was obvious there was no real reason for her to stay away from upstairs. As far as she could see, it looked just like the first story, but smaller and without any pews. Instead, along the balcony, there were several doors with what looked like room numbers on a small gold plate beside each door.

Angela groaned. So there really wasn't anything bad up here, which was true. Those people had just been trying to keep her from accessing anything that could've made her residence here the least bit bearable. Typical. Even so, she hoped nobody caught her up here. She hadn't seen anybody downstairs in a while, so she knew that everybody was likely up here.

The man, however, seemed to be oblivious to Angela's emotions and walked her down to the room number that read "666." He turned and smiled at Angela. "A special number." Angela returned the smile, but secretly it made her a bit nervous to be in a room labeled "666." That was the number of the demon, Trigon, she was supposed to be sacrificed to. It still jolted her to think about that event. Of course she still had to worship him, because she still believed very strongly in Trigon's successful universe domination. But...eh. Something felt off.

"Okay, close your eyes." the man told Angela, his hand on the doorknob. When Angela did not do so right away, he simply put a hand over her eyes. Angela's hands instantly flew up toward his to try and remove it, and he replied, "It's a surprise, Angela."

"Fine." She dropped her hands back down to her side and granted the man permission to lead her into the room. Even with her eyes closed, she could see that it was very bright inside.

"Surprise!" the man cried, releasing Angela's eyes.

Angela lifted her eyelids to see two vertical rectangular windows with sunny yellow curtains pushed to the side, allowing the golden rays of the sun to stream inside. Dust motes floated in the streams of sunlight, making it look more magical. There was a bed, freshly made with white sheets and a fluffy, thick comforter the same color. The floor was authentic wood, giving the room a very nostalgic aura. The walls were smooth and white, not bumpy and textured like Angela had grown accustomed to. The ceiling had a small chandelier dangling from it, too high for Angela to touch but the man could probably touch it easily.

And in the center of the bedroom, beside the bed, there was a small, white, circular table with one leg holding it up that was designed to look like a tree branch. There was a small lit candle right on the center of it, and on either side there was a table setting with beautiful silverware beside the plates and a neatly folded napkin with tiny pink flowers on it under the plate. There were cups filled with a steaming substance with gold along the rim of the cups and painted pink, blue, and purple flowers inside and outside of them. The plates each had one bagel, with butter and raspberry jam cleanly smeared on the back of it. There were chopped strawberries beside the bagel and two small pink cookies with yellow candies sticking out of them next to the strawberries.

Angela was at a loss for words. She just gaped at everything he had set up. The food looked amazing, and the setting was ethereal. Then it dawned on her: this was for her. He had set up this gorgeous thing for her.

He really loved her. She couldn't believe it.

"That was lovely," Angela gushed, leaning back into her chair and sighing contently. "I never knew you could make something like this."

The man smiled. "Neither did I, not gonna lie. But you're absolutely worth it."

Angela's face split with a huge grin. "So what do you have planned for the rest of the day?" she asked gaily, flaxen sunlight reflecting in her eyes.

The man smiled.

This day had easily been the best day of Angela's life, she thought, as she lay in the bed that the man had made for her that morning. After she and the man had finished breakfast, he had taken her out of the church for the second time and brought her back to that fateful field where they had talked some more and laughed. Nobody ever came to the meadow due to the fact that the church that was known for the satanic cult was near that area. Angela had decided to try her hand at tree climbing so she could reach an apple growing from one of the branches and promptly fallen from the plant, landing in the man's arms much to her relief. He had laughed at Angela's antics and simply reached up and plucked it out of the tree himself without having to go up the tree a single inch, then gave it to Angela with a smirk on his face, like he knew he had bested her.

After they left the field, which was probably her new favorite place, it was thirty minutes past noon and they were both beginning to feel hungry. So the man dropped into a tiny, old restaurant nearby, asked Angela's order, and got her a simple meal of a chicken sandwich and fries.

Angela had never ordered or eaten from a restaurant in her life, and she was a little embarrassingly excited over her first meal out, squealing like a girl half her age when the man brought Angela, who was sitting at the square wood table with a red plaid cloth over it, her tray.

"I've never ordered from anywhere before," she explained sheepishly when the man cocked his head at her with a smirk as he set her plate down in front of her. "Um, sorry."

"No, no," the man replied slyly. "It's cute."

Angela blushed, her face growing hot, and faced the food on the table before her.

After they had lunch- which tasted heavenly compared to the lunch of mashed potatoes and plain white rice she was usually fed around dinner time- the man surprised her by bringing Angela a baby pink sundress with partial thin sleeves that only covered a fraction of her shoulder and had ruffles all along the top and hem of the dress. The dress was yet another V-neck lined with white lace and polka dots widely spread out across it. The dress came slightly above her knees. When Angela asked what the dress was for, he took her hand and led her to a sandy shore much like a beach, but a lot smaller. There he set up a blanket on the sand and sat down, motioning for her to do the same. Angela, freshly changed into the dress, beamed and sat down besides him.

"I thought we could just sit and watch the sunset." the man told Arella sincerely. He put one arm around her waist.

"I think that sounds nice." Arella smiled and rested her head on the man's broad shoulder, wrapping her hands around his arm.

Together, they sat in sweet silence as the sun went down.