Random draft I came up with a year or two ago, give or take. Not sure if I posted this before in a previous chapter, so if I did then please tell me. If not then give your thoughts on it.

This Extra isn't really 'canon' to the main story, but it does give me ideas of where to take possible character relationships. Romance is something that's been suggested a lot and the moment between Cattleya and Raziel before the Ball of Sleipnir got shipper attention when I first posted it.

Think of this as a possibility and consider if this is something you guys might want. If it isn't...well, give your reasons on why you think it's a poor fit and/or your suggestions for either a better pairing/no pairing at all. Writing for Spider-Man has made it clear that romance seems to be expected so I'm trying to be more open to the idea.

...And yes, I'm well the title sounds like bad fantasy porno novel, but it still felt better than writing 'these characters fuck'.

Wrong. It was all wrong.

Raziel brought a hand through his face roughly, as if trying to wipe away the memory of her kiss on his cheeks. It was...It was a mistake, a moment of weakness for them both that had only happened because of their mutual grief. She wasn't in her right state of mind and neither was he; and yet they had pushed on, trying to eke out any moment of pleasure they could cup in their greedy hands.

And for what? So they could forget whatever torment Louise could have been subjected to right at that moment? As if forgetting what had happened erased it all. She was family to them both, whether by blood or bond, and it wasn't fair to her that they did that. Louise had spent a month in recovery from her wounds in Saxe-Gotha and yet despite it all she had tried to find him after regaining her bearings.

And here he was fucking her sister.

He still had no idea why she continued their...correspondence. The first time he understood why, the second he justified by relief when they'd survived the events of the damned ball but now...they'd stayed together for far too long and his excuses were running out. She was relieved, she was frustrated, she needed someone to keep her company...she just needed someone to fuck that day. Each excuse became more and more flimsy until eventually he had stopped making them.

But what were they? Lovers? No, no, no...he had no experience with matters like that and he was certain that wasn't what the were. The time with Siesta couldn't be counted as anything more than desperation and he wasn't himself when he had been with Tiffania. Robin knew what to do, Robin wouldn't have worried, but Robin was gone. Even the few traces that remained weren't enough: If he was still that child he wouldn't have been so quick to advocate violence, he wouldn't have found it so easy to tear someone's body apart in order to consume their Humanity or...or sleep with someone under such grave circumstances.

Robin would have stayed with Tiffania and the children in the forest, living an idyllic life while remaining ignorant to the end of the world.

What did that leave for them then? Sexual partners and nothing more? That would have made things so simple, so impersonal, and yet he knew that it wasn't that either. If that was the case why did she kiss him so tenderly? Why did she whisper words of comfort in his ear when he felt himself losing control to the shards? You didn't do that for a sexual partner, you did that for someone you cared more about than a pair of legs with a member.

So what then? They were too close to be sexual partners but they weren't close enough that they could be lovers. And as far as he knew regular friends didn't take each other to bed at night, letting logic run loose and drowning themselves in arousal.

"Raziel?" The hand on his shoulder burned. Turning around he saw her pleading look, lips parted even as no further words came. He could see the swell of her breasts between the parted buttons of her blouse and he felt an uncomfortable stiffness between his legs. This was wrong, he reminded himself. Wrong for him to let her invite him to his room, wrong for him to accept the temptation of the flesh, wrong for him to follow their routine and start taking her clothes off one by one-

It was wrong for him to stop and turn away, leaving her both confused and frustrated.

"Is something wrong-"

"We have to stop this."

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Had to be done, he assured himself. They had to stop this before...before their regrets became too much. He looked at her through the side; she didn't cry. That should have been obvious - She was no innocent maiden like Tiffania, despite that her actions indicated otherwise. This was the same woman who kept a mask of happiness to not worry her parents, the same that choked a mercenary when he had begged for mercy and admitted to wishing she had been there when Daphne killed the assassins that put her beloved sister in danger.

She was no fragile doll he had to watch his words around. He saw her expression shift, first from shock and then anger mixed with confusion. He idly noted that her cheeks were still red; was it from her anger or the residual arousal from their near act of intimacy? He sincerely hoped it was the former.

"Why would you say that?" He couldn't tell how she felt from her voice. She could have been asking why his hair was colored differently and it would have sounded the same.

"I...you know it cannot last." He defended weakly. So what if it didn't last? It would have been presumptuous of him to think that they would keep doing this for much longer. Once she found a lover - a proper one after weeks of courtship and not after a damned tryst - she would have forgotten all the nights they spent together...and he would have been okay with that.

"Why can't it?" Her hand cupped his cheek and he shied away. Push her off, his mind screamed at him, shove her away and be done with it.

"What...What are we?" He bit back, "We are not lovers and as simple as it would be we are not simply partners who look to each other for sex." Sexual partners didn't ask each other for outings to the town. Sexual partners didn't stay with you when trouble started rising and you began to lose control.

Sexual partners didn't whisper I love you when they came to climax.

"I...I don't know..." She bit her lip, hand finally dropping, "I'm willing to give...whatever we are...a chance, and I think you can too-"

"But why?" He asked, uncaring how harsh he sounded, "Do you imagine that we can keep doing this? Either we keep inviting each other to bed every few nights until the pleasure eventually becomes dry or we..."

"We stay together." She finished for him, that damned smile on her face. It hurt him more to know that the gesture was honest, that she honestly felt glad at the idea of it rather than hiding behind one of her numerous masks. At least the idea of her being repulsed about being with him down the line would have reinforced him, shattered any doubts remaining that he should have ended it.

But no. She was as happy as could be and he hated her for it.

"And how do you suppose that ends?" He muttered, words dripping with venom, "If by some miracle I become more than an upright corpse what then? Can you imagine us living a happy life? Me cradling a child in the morning before I leave and commit whatever killing Henrietta or Louise or someone else bids of me? That you would wait for me to return every single night, ignoring the stains of blood on my clothes as you tucked the infant to sleep and ask how my day had been?" He laughed bitterly. Even now the image made him sick, a facsimile of a normal life that he could never have.

"Why must everything be one way with you?" She asked, irritation seeping into her tone, "You focus so much on everything. That you're an Undead, that I have to be married with children and a respectable husband like everyone else." No doubt it was what her family would have wanted, but she would allow herself to be selfish here, "What if it doesn't have to be like that? What if being together is enough?"

"If being together was enough, then why me?" He closed his eyes, hands gripping the sheet of the bed in frustration, "You are the second daughter of the Valliere family. Suitors would line up by the dozens for even a chance to earn your affection so why pick a monster?" He raised his left hand, watching as the corruption eroded the flesh, "You act as if I am a good person but-"

"I never said you were a good person."

It was odd. The pain as he heard the words were brief, replaced quickly by a feeling of...relief? Perhaps he had simply gotten tired of the constant reassurances of everyone around him. Louise, Siesta, Tiffania...time and again they had refuted his claims, washed away his sins and depravities while coddling him for being a good person. Even when they saw him feeding on one's Humanity or lose himself to the shards and tear a person apart like a crazed animal the platitude was always quick to leave their lips.

"So glad you understand." For the first time that night he smiled, though she felt no warmth from the gesture, "So now that we are in agreement we should-"

"You didn't let me finish." She interrupted, looking him straight in the eyes, "I'm not naive, Raziel. I...I know some of the things you've done. I'm not as privy to as much information as little Louise is, but I know enough. I...I saw you kill that man in the hall, the way you ripped open his neck to heal yourself. I know you've done far worse in Albion before and after you both nearly died."

"I'm not hearing any reason for me to not just leave this room and never look back." He looked away and scoffed. He didn't need a reminder of his actions; he got enough of those from Ciaran or Henrietta; though the latter seemed to take solace that there was one as mired in sin as she was.

"What I'm saying is...you're not a good person." She held his hand gently, the contact giving him a comfortable sense of warmth, "But you're not a monster either." He looked at her incredulously. Was she honestly trying to have it both ways now? "You're...well, you're human. No one's a perfect saint or a depraved monster...we're all flawed. You, me...everyone else too."

"Most others don't have...this inside them." He winced as she wrapped her arms around him, fingers brushing against the flesh where his heart would have lain. Undead, Human...at this point it didn't change anything. The shards were there and his time was running short.

"And I accept that." She whispered, warm breath tickling his ear, "Saint or monster...I'm here with you." Close, she was far too close. Leave the room, a voice whispered at the back of his mind. Leave her and don't look back before you make another mistake. He turned around to speak to her properly before he stopped.

He sucked in a deep breath as he felt warm lips brushing against his ear. He could feel her mouth dragging across his cheek, her skin never leaving his even as she drew ever closer to his own mouth. With every breath on his cold flesh, with every touch of her fingertips slowly grazing down his chest, he felt his resolve weakening. He was keenly aware that that she had seen the physical effects of his own arousal, knew the effects she had on him. He could practically feel her smiling as her hands finally reached their destination and gave a teasing squeeze.

Gods damn it.

He pushed her down and planted his own rough kisses against her neck, relishing in the breathy moans she gave in response. He could feel her warmth, the way her back arched to make it easier for him to remove the cloth covering her skin.

Just for one more night he would allow himself to give into temptation once more.