So sorry for the wait, here is more, reviews would be lovely.

Angel's Tears

He returned only forty-five minutes later, cursing under his breath. As he climbed back in the window he continued to mutter, until he froze, and met eyes with me. He blushed, embarrassed, and walked over to my side. I did notice the wings still tightly attached to his back. I was smart enough, even for a human who could hardly remember his own name, to know what the cure was. It was a serum for mutants, to make them 'normal' and save them from their 'disease'. Truthfully, I'd always hoped to be a mutant myself.

"I couldn't let him," Warren whispered, his eyes filling up with tears. I placed my palm on his cheek, and gently wiped away the falling tears with my thumb. I scooted over in the large bed, to make room for the winged mutant, whom was now sobbing hysterically. He snuggled up against me, lying on his chest, so his wings could sit on top of the bed. He pushed his face into my shirt, and choked, on tears.

I was surprised he trusted me enough to get this close, and show me this side of him, but I shut up, bit my lip, and comforted him best I could.

An hour or so later, he was conked out on top of me, snoring quietly. My arm still ran along his back, soothingly, being careful not to touch the two places that his back grew into wings. His eyes were dry now, and red, but I was happy to see him calm, asleep, safe.

I pulled out from under him as gently as I could, and was successful in not waking him. I'd decided while he was gone that I was interested in exploring the condo a little, but my head was pounding to hard, and when I stood up, it felt like it was a giant weight sitting on top. So I decided to lie back down. But now, seeing that my head felt a lot better, I decided to go ahead and look around.

When I opened the tall white door, I saw a long hallway. To the right were many doors, all painted the same pale white as the walls, and on the left side was railing, leading to a staircase at the end of it. I quietly walked down the hall, towards the stairs. There were large paintings in the hallway walls, of beaches, oceans and underwater scenes. Made sense since the condo was on a beach. I crept downstairs, and found the room I walked into much the same. In fact, the whole house was the same. White, furnished nicely, clean, organized. Like nobody even lived in it. Their was food in the fridge, mostly stuff that would last a long time, frozen junk.

"Like it?" a whisper came from the bottom of the stairs. I jumped, spun around, and looked embarrassingly at the mutant across the room.

"It's very…"

"Boring?" Warren asked.

"I was gonna say it was nice," I quickly added.

He smiled, "Nice enough to stay?"

"Definitely," I said; just to make him keep his smile on. Though I really didn't want to leave soon, so I guess there were other motives behind it.

"Good," he said excitedly. I was about to ask him about before, and why he was so upset, but I was so damn determined to keep him happy. And smiling.

"So do you live here all the time?" I asked, curious because of its crystal clean atmosphere.

"Lately," he sighed, "It makes me happy, coming here. It's kinda like my club house, away from my dad, but recently I've been actually living in it."

"You're a very organized man," I said.

He seemed flattered that I'd called him a man. There was a bit of an age difference between us, he was still a teenager, and I, my early twenties, but he seemed glad that I hadn't noticed.

"Thank you," he replied.

"Welcome," I murmured, looking blankly around the room.

"Sorry about before," Warren whispered, "I was a little emotional."

I nodded and smiled reassuringly, "You were just annoyed."

"Disappointed, actually," he corrected, shyly, "Because of my father. He just won't accept me."

"Well, he doesn't know what he's missing," I added. Warren blushed.

"I just realized that I don't know your name…or much about you for that matter," Warren said sitting on the couch, his wings lying casually across the back.

"I'm Tizzian. Tiz, for short. Frankly I don't remember much about me either," I groaned, "I think I may have bumped my head, something's screwed up."

"Did you lose your short term memory?" Warren asked curiously. A took a seat next to him on the couch.

"No, I don't believe so. It'd odd; I remember certain things, others I don't. Very peculiar," I said, relaxing next to him.

"So," Warren blushed again, "You're staying right?"

"Positively," I replied, "I couldn't leave now, anyway, even if I wanted too."

"And why is that?" he asked.

"I'd miss your smile to much," I took his hand, and decided to make a forward move, "And your lips."

And it worked. After a few moments of gazing deeply at one another, our lips firmly met, pressed together. It was as if the angels were singing.