Hi lovelies! Hope you like. This one might be my longest chapter of O(PF)L so far? Crazy! I got a little carried away with Nora's POV... (;

NPOV

If this is what losing your mind feels like… it isn't too bad. Which is exactly what a crazy person would think. But I'm not crazy, really. Just a little shocked. All of these news senses and abilities have my mind spinning into overdrive, my thoughts running a million miles per second. I know I've been through a lot, but this is too much for anyone to handle.

Right now, Patch is at the grocery store getting ingredients to make dinner. I don't think he trusted me not to hurt myself after the kitchen accident earlier. To be honest, I don't know if I can trust myself to not get injured. I am without a doubt the biggest klutz in the world.

Truthfully, I'm glad that I have a minute to myself. This whole "new body" thing isn't very easy to adapt to, and it is certainly not easy to understand. I need some time to myself to explore my limits, without Patch's worried eye. With him breathing down my neck, I kind of feel like some science experiment that needs extra supervision.

So when I hear the front door close with his departure, I bite my lip and turn on my heel towards the bathroom. Maybe inspiration will strike me there. Maybe I'll figure out a way to test my new abilities.

Walking into the bathroom, I make sure to avoid my reflection as I pass the mirror. I'm sure that I look crazed with my unruly hair and lack of sleep. I open the medicine cabinet and scan my eyes over the items that it holds, thinking of the possibilities to test myself. When I see the razor blade, my hand automatically starts to reach for it, imagining all of the ways that my new super skin could heal itself.

But, I stop myself before I pick it up. Am I really going to do that to myself? What are you thinking, Nora? Shaking my head, I shut the cabinet door and groan out loud at the reflection that stares back at me. I really do look horrible. Dark circles ring under my eyes and my hair is a mess.

I should look nice for Patch tonight, I decide as I stroll into our bedroom. The soft evening sunlight streams in through the window, warming my skin when I step into the patches of light. After an overwhelming 24 hours, the fading sun's reminder that I've made it through another day calms my frenzied nerves. I close my eyes and hum an off-key melody, just because I want to. I'm tone deaf and too loud, but it makes me happy to hum and sing.

With a new attitude and a lighter mind, I flit into the walk in closet. This closet is the one thing that I didn't know I needed in my life until I had it. All of the things Patch has given me have been too much, but I truly appreciate the closet.

To be blunt, Patch has money. He has been alive for centuries, and in those times, he's made a great amount in the arcade and gambling days. But he also has made investments, bought stocks, and made an obscene amount of money from other business ventures. As a result, Patch is practically… filthy rich. We live in a rather lavish apartment and he indulges me in things that I don't even need. He assures me that it is our money and that he wants to spoil me, but I've never been comfortable with spending money. After being raised with minimum wage jobs and babysitting gigs, I've always worked hard for my money. So to have a lot of it at my fingertips now… I'll have to, as Patch tells me, "get used to it, Angel."

So as I sit down in the center of my walk in closet and look around, I laugh to myself. My clothes take up more than half of it, with Patches collection of basics and essentials in one corner. He is nothing if not generous.

My eyes skim over my dress collection, choosing which one to wear. I stand and reach my hand out for one that I've decided on, one with a sunflower print. However, as soon as my hands touch it, I gasp. Shock floods through my body, sending jolts from my head to my toes.

My fingertips. The fabric. I can feel. I can feel everything. As in, I can feel each individual fiber of thread. The nerves on my fingertips are picking up on each dip and valley of an impossibly small micro-sized square of cloth. I can feel the stitching and the soft cotton and, and… I let go. It's too much of a sensory overload.

I cover my mouth and take a step back. Muffled beneath my hands, I say, "One more freaky new thing to deal with." But my curiosity gets the best of me after a minute and I step forward again. This time, when I reach for the dress, I expect it. I focus all of my attention to my hands and I touch. The way my hands feel, its as if what I touch is magnified under a microscope. I run my hands along all of my clothes, from the softest hoodies to the toughest leather jackets to the silkiest lingerie tops. Every touch is unique and all-encompassing.

With a sudden realization that comes crashing down on me, I put a few of the puzzle pieces together. It is happening to ALL of my senses, not just my touch. I've been able to hear the slightest noises and I've been hyper-sensitive to light. I haven't tasted or smelled anything recently, but I'm sure that they are enhanced too. "Holy shit, how did I not connect that?" I whisper to myself, dumbstruck.

And it has all come on since I was lost in the woods.

I take a deep breath. Another. And another. Calm down, Nora. Pushing my hair out of my face, I decide that a nervous breakdown will help absolutely nothing. Once again, I take the sunflower dress in my hands, this time ignoring the sensation of touch, and slide it over my body. It is hard to ignore the feel of the soft fabric on my stomach and thighs, but I push it down. I need to get my shit together before Patch gets home. He already has enough on his plate.

Stepping out into the room, I squint in the dying light and approach my mirror with caution. I usually don't wear much makeup, instead opting for a natural look, but today, I need a lot of it. I conceal my under eyes, swipe on mascara, and finish with a killer winged eyeliner. Quickly, since Patch will be home soon, I curl the ends of my hair loosely. When I see the finished product of the dress, hair, and makeup, I think to myself, Damn, I look good.

Just as I finish off with some lipgloss, I hear a rustling outside my door. Which is most certainly NOT normal, because the front door is all the way on the other side of this huge apartment. But, I extend my hearing to the door and realize that it is just Patch.

He opens the door and calls out an "Angel?" I rush from the bedroom until I get to the front hallway, stopping short and catching my breath. Separated by a few yards, I straighten up at the look on his face. It is a look of complete complete… love. "My Angel," he breathes. Without warning, he runs to me and crushes my lips to his, grabbing the back of my head with his hands. He breaks off to say something, but I beat him to it and say, "No more kitchen accidents, I've been a good girl." I giggle against his lips.

I'm suddenly in the air, and I shriek. Patch has lifted me, cradling my back and holding me behind my knees. "Spin!" I tell him, laughing like a carefree child, and silently wishing that I was one. We twirl into the kitchen, and he sets me down on the counter, the extreme sense of coolness of the tile against my legs making me pout.

Patch misinterprets my pout and says, "Sorry Angel, Chef Patch has some work to do." He begins to prepare the mac and cheese that he promised. He measures carefully and precisely, and I mentally add this to the list of memories I never want to forget. I swing my legs as I sit, both of us comfortable with the silence. I look down for a second.

But when I look up, my feet stop swinging instantly and they hit the cabinet below me with a thud. My entire body freezes.

In the center of Patch's chest, a soft white glow emanates from him. A small, white ball of light. It seems to be coming from the very core of his being, and I can't stop looking at it. I haven't made a sound, so Patch continues to go about his business, bustling around the kitchen for ingredients, bending over to retrieve a pot. And yet, all the while, the light follows him, staying at the center of his chest.

I rub my eyes, thinking that I'm just hallucinating. Nope, its still there.

I try to make sense of it. I reach into my mind, desperately trying to think of anything that could possibly explain this. But I come up with nothing. I can barely describe it, and I know its crazy, but it seems to be coming from his… soul.

As soon as I think the word, I know that it is true. Without any doubt, this light is coming from his soul, his deepest and truest self. This light is nothing harmful, of that I'm sure, so I am feeling no panic or urgency. If I felt that it was in any way a danger to him, I would have told him immediately. But this light is pure and good, and I don't know how much I should tell Patch right now. I'm too busy watching it… It is so undeniably, absolutely, and incredibly beautiful that I can't stop staring at it. The light draws in my eyes and -

"Uh, Angel?" He waves his hand in front of me and wears a smile that is trying to cover up his worry. I hope he didn't notice me staring for long. But when I glance quickly back at the light, it is beginning to swirl with a light gray. My eyes widen at the change of color.

I tear my gaze from the ball of light and brush it off as best as I can, saying, "Sorry, P. I just got lost in my thoughts I guess." He seems reluctant to accept that but he doesn't ask any more questions. Patch finishes the mac and cheese in silence and I continue to stare at him every time he turns his back. Occasionally he'll look at me, but I try to meet his eyes and smile to assure him that I'm alright.

The swirl of gray continues to seep into the white light. I'm beginning to think that the gray in his light is reflecting his worry for me, because every time he sees my face, his colors grow stormier.

He bowls the pasta dish and sets it on the table, holding out his hand for me so that I can hop down from the counter. When I jump down, I stumble a little bit and end up holding his muscular forearms for support. He smiles down at me when I look up and he whispers, "There's my little clumsy girl. I was beginning to think you had gotten lost in that mind of yours." He knocks on my temple gently and kisses my forehead.

I decide internally that I will not focus on his light anymore, as beautifully distracting as it may be. Patch doesn't need one more freaking thing on his plate right now. I try my best to have a light hearted conversation with him, everything from the weather to a suggestion to go camping if he wants. He plays along, entertaining the idea and laughing at a stupid joke I made. The evening is going smoothly.

I remind him that we have a date scheduled for tomorrow night, and his eyebrows shoot up. "What did you have in mind, Angel?"

I blush and look down, saying, "Well, Patch, there is a new restaurant in town that I would love to try. Its a little expensive, but I've heard that it's worth it. After that, I don't know. We could make it up as we go." I look up to see his reaction, and I'm relieved. He looks happy with that idea.

"Sounds perfect. I'll need to bring my suit to be cleaned and pressed, though -"

"No problem!" I cut him off, just excited that he plans on dressing up for me. "I can take it to the cleaners tomorrow morning. I'll probably think of a few other errands to run tomorrow while I'm out and waiting for it to be finished."

We smile at each other and exchange excited looks like teenagers. I stand to clear the plates and clean the small mess in the kitchen, but he puts out his hand to stop me. "No no, Angel. I want to clean all this up so you can just relax." That's what he says, but what he really means is, "I don't want you to hurt yourself again because your healing is freaking me out."

I sigh and nod my head. "I'll just be waiting in our room," I call out to him over my shoulder, swaying my hips and padding back towards the bedroom.

Once I get to the room, I close the door behind me and lean against it. Show time, Nora. I need to get both of our minds off of the recent events that we've been through, and what better way to do it than … I can't believe I'm doing this, but… sex. Honestly, he needs to unwind, and I miss the connection that we share.

I extend my hearing and find out that he is still washing the dishes and pots. I push off the door quickly and head into the closet. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon." I say to myself, sifting through all my clothes. "Aha!" I say as I find what I'm looking for. It's a quite skimpy set of brand new lingerie that Vee slipped into my overnight bag last time we were together. The structured bodice is made of black lace and some black silk, with matching black lace panties to match. I slip off the sunflower sundress and quickly change into the lingerie.

I'm not the type of girl that likes to show off her body much, but damn, I feel sexy in this. Despite being new at this whole sex thing, I do have enough sense to know that my man would love the way this bodice pushes up my chest. I don't look in the mirror, because if I do, I'll start to doubt myself and think I'm being stupid. So instead I fluff up my hair with my fingers and dash out of the closet. I hear Patch coming down the hall towards the room, so I squeal and jump into the master bathroom, closing the door.

He enters the bedroom and I hear him click off his wristwatch, setting it on the dresser. My heart rate skyrockets as I hear him walk around the room, probably looking for me. He walks into the closet and begins to talk to the room, assuming that I'm within earshot. I slowly open the bathroom door while he travels around the room. He hasn't noticed yet and says, "Hey Angel, not only am I a good cook, but I am also surprisingly good at cleaning up-"

His voice cuts off as soon as he sees me. There I stand, quietly in the doorway. My hands wring themselves together behind my back, my only sign of nervousness. He is speechless. With my romantic naiveté, I panic and think that his lack of speech is a sign that he's not interested. So when I shift my weight from leg to leg nervously, his mouth begins to open and close, trying to get words out. "Nora Grey. You look… beautiful." He stand there in his gorgeous dark jeans, his button up shirt undone and hanging from his muscled form. His words are all I need to boost my confidence and let me shed any nerves that I have. And as much as I'm trying to ignore the light that shines from his chest tonight, I can't help but notice the red-hot surge of color that shines when he looks at me.

I smile slowly, reaching one hand up to rest it on the door frame, leaning my body. I don't trust my voice to not waver, so I bring back one of our most personal connections. To his mind, I speak, This is all for you, Patch.

His eyes widen at the mind speak. He quickly regains his composure and gives me a pirate grin. He slowly walks up to me until he is right in front of me. Slowly, I lift my hand to rest on his chest. Right before I touch him, I meet his eye with a questioning look and he nods to urge me ahead. But when my hand touches his chest, a jolt of electricity runs through my veins and I am surprised by the intensity of this small move. My eyes widen at the new feeling. It must come with the senses, I think to myself. He is looking down at me with wonder, watching me act strangely. I suddenly can't get enough of this man. "Kiss me," I beg him.

Cupping my head with both of his hands, he leans in, kissing my neck and working up to a spot behind my ear, a spot that drives me crazy. His hands rest on the bare skin of my hips and he whispers in my ear, "Oh, Angel. You're killing me in that outfit. There are so many things I want to do to you right now."

I lean right back into him and whisper in his ear, "So do them." My words tip him over the edge. His hands clamp down on my hips and he pulls my hips to his, pushing our bodies against each other. His kisses elicit a moan from my mouth, and I'm not usually vocal, so it surprises both of us. He moves his soft lips to mine and says against them, "What brought this on, baby?"

I break away and stare into his eyes, which are burning black with lust and love. I push against his chest with my hand and we walk in synch to the edge of the bed. With one final hard push, he falls onto the bed, leaning up on his elbows to keep his eyes on me. I answer his question with, "Just you, Patch. This is how you make me feel."

I climb onto the bed and straddle his legs, then leaning over to put my hands on either side of his head. My hair falls around my shoulders and curves against my chest. I lean down to kiss him, but stop right before our lips meet. "Patch, you're it for me. You are the only man that has been with me in this way, and you're the only one that ever will." I point up and down my body and say, "This is all yours."

His answering look of love and his growl in my ear are my reply. Through gritted teeth, he manages to get out, "That's right. No other man in the world gets my Angel. You," kiss, "are" kiss, "mine." I help him out of his clothes and they are thrown somewhere across the room. His face, however happy, is a look of pain and urgency. I say softly to him, "Just relax, baby. I'll take care of you."

Our passion is driven by the past few days of worry and by the intense love we share. He is gentle, not selfish, and everything that I need. We have perfect rhythm and we know each other's needs without having to say them. The only things we vocalize are our sounds of pleasure and our chorus of "I love you's". It is perfect. My sense of touch that is already heightened is on overdrive, because we are touching everywhere.

And then, the most beautiful thing happens. Together, when the lights explode behind our eyes and our bodies explode in unison, I see the white light in his chest explode into a thousand different shades of red and pink. It bursts from his chest and swirls like a sunset.

We're laying together, tangled in the sheets and breathing heavily. Honestly, I didn't even know when I started crying. So when Patch looks up at me and his eyes fill with horror, he rushes out, "Nora? Are you ok? Did I hurt you? What's wrong? Shit, did I hurt you?" The red and pink colors are shot through with grey worry.

I smile and laugh through my tears, finally feeling them when they fall onto my cheeks. He brushes them off, still worried. I reassure him with a small smile, "NO! No, Patch. It was perfect. You didn't hurt me at all."

Patch is confused and upset at my tears. "Then why are you crying, Angel? Whats the matter?"

This time I laugh because I feel silly, and the movement causes more tears to fall onto my cheeks. "It's just…just… you are so beautiful. I'm crying because it was so perfect." I cover my eyes with my hands and squeak out, "Wow, I'm sorry. I'm a wreck. A sex wreck."

With relief, Patch lets out a huge laugh and pulls me against his chest, rubbing my back as I hiccup from the onslaught of happy tears. The whole time, I smile. He bends his neck down and I look up at him when he says, "I knew I was good, but good enough to make you cry? That really hits a man's ego out of the park, Angel…" I giggle and lightly smack his chest. "Shuddup." I whisper against him.

While we lay together, I listen to his steady heartbeat. My heart drops in my chest when I realize that it is loud; louder than normal ears would hear. And just like that, I'm reminded of all of the sensing shit that I'm dealing with. Patch's close presence also reminds me that I haven't told him everything. He only knows about the fast, abnormal healing. In the span of a couple hours, I've also gained super-senses and … the ability to see… emotions? I jolt slightly in his arms when I realize the name for the new power.

Can I really see emotions? I've been avoiding thinking about this particular power, and with shame I realize that I used sex as a distraction. I want to think it through and figure it out, I do, but I'm suddenly overcome with exhaustion. My eyes begin to close on their own, despite my struggle to stay awake. I'll figure it out tomorrow, I think to myself. The last thing I hear as I lay in his arms is, "Sleep now, Angel."

PPOV

I wake to the sound of Nora's footsteps, loudly rushing around the room. I throw one arm over my head, groaning and stretching out my sore muscles. Nora is wearing a soft white robe and a towel wrapped around her hair, clearly having just got out of the shower. She shoots one look at me and says, "For the sake of all that is holy, Patch. If you stretch that delicious body of yours one more time I swear nothing will get done today."

"That's fine by me, Angel. I'd love to do a lot more … nothing." The sheets pool around my waist when I sit up in bed. I'm purposely showing off my toned chest to her now. I smirk at her as she huffs and walks into the closet.

I get out of bed and follow her into the closet. When I walk in, she has taken off her bath robe and started to rummage through the clothes on the hangers. "Patch!" she shrieks when she sees me in the doorway. She grabs the robe from the floor and clenches it to her chest. I'm not sure if she screams because I walked in on her naked, or if she screams because I'm naked, or both. Either way, I end up laughing. With tears in my eyes, I manage to get out, "Angel. I hate to break it to you, but I've seen you naked before. Many times."

Like the stubborn girl she is, she sticks up her chin and says, "I know that, Patch. You just startled me. I'm not used to it, you know, I haven't lived with a man for too long of my life!" Her pouty face is adorable.

And then, without warning, she drops the robe. With confidence, she turns back to the clothes and continues to look for an outfit. My feet are glued to the floor, and I couldn't look away if I wanted to. Her body is just so… perfect. When she sees me staring at her, she glances over her shoulder and says, "Something wrong? Did you need me?"

I grin and say back, "Nope, Angel. Just looking." Nora dresses in her undergarments while I watch. She knows what she's doing to me, too. No one slowly bends over and adjusts like that. I am quite pleased when I see her wince slightly, because I know it's from our session last night. When she slips on a lavender shift dress, I ask, "Where are you going today?"

Walking past me, she pushes a pair of boxers into my hands, "Please put these on. I've been being good but my self control is wearing thin. A girl can only handle so much." I step into them and realize that she avoided the question. I ask again, "Angel, where are you going?"

She answers as she gets her purse together and straps her shoes on. "I didn't tell you? I'm dropping off your suit to the cleaners and then I'm just going to shop for an outfit for our date tonight. You didn't forget about our date, did you?" Her eyebrows raise, daring me to say that I forgot.

"Of course not. I'm looking forward to it." I follow her to the front hall, where she grabs the keys to the car.

She turns back with one hand on the doorknob. "I won't be too long. Have some fun of your own today. Go to Bo's! I know you've missed it there. My cell will be with me all day if you need me." I kiss her forehead and say goodbye.

As she goes, I say, "Angel, wait." She looks back. "If anything… if anything like yesterday happens again with your nephilim abilities, please tell me. If you don't tell me, I can't help you. Angel, If anything happened to you, I'd…" I plead with her.

She meets my gaze and says, "I know. And I"ll be fine, baby. Please, please don't worry about me."

Too late, I think to myself.

A/N: Reviews will be greatly appreciated! (they also motivate me to get updates out sooner!) xx