They met at a diner, because where else could you find a lumberjack drinking away his sorrow at one AM. He took a swing of apple juice, smashing the bottle on the ground when he found that there was nothing to trickle down his throat. Before he could spit at the man behind the counter though, a wave of blonde hair fluttered into his vision, draping over his shoulders as a woman leaned forward into his face.

"Think you can pay for these shoes, bitch?"

It was like the angel Anabiel descended from the sea of the heavens, swearing upon her vengeance on his stupidity with lightning crackling at her feet. She shined with an inner light more radiant than the morning sun, fierce as the flash of a flame when his eyes were accustomed to nothing but darkness. It was painful, knocking him off his drunken stupor long enough to focus.

"Move your gun from my neck and maybe then I can see."

God, she was a hell-sent.

Her grip loosened from his collar, shoving him back with the palm of her hand but her aim never faltered. "Witness the damage."

So his bottle wasn't empty after all. The glass itself was shattered over her shins, ripping her sheers into ribbons soaked with blood with fragments embedded in her skin. The red on her shoes deepened from the piss colored apple juice.

Shit.

I guess it matches with your face now, he wanted to say, but it was too great of a lie to tell.

She was a stunner, someone who

This woman was tall, her features sharp and her gaze even more piercing than the sting her nails left on his throat. If her gun didn't get him first, maybe her glare would. It would be a painful death either way. She flicked her hair off her bare shoulders, tilting her chin up and cocking her hip to the side in the laziest fashion.

"Honey if you knew who you were facing, you'd be begging."

"Begging for what?"

He instantly regretted his choice of words when cold metal grazed his temple.

"Your life."

The Angel Anabiel be damned. It was the goddess of the underworld herself who hunted for his soul.

Lady Death, his savior.

A few days later, they met again during a brighter time at the same diner, ignoring the pointed stares from the employees. The lumberjack was usually known as someone gentle, revealing his true personality after carrying Liz in a bridal fashion towards the clinic down the road. This town was too small for modern hospitals anyway. Trees decorated the land looking as if time had stopped for them since the founding of the colonies. They were deep in the middle of nowhere so to speak, so how did Liz end up in that diner with a man oozing with fluffy goodness and rainbow sprinkles?

She couldn't keep a straight face, scowling at him with every chance she could until breakfast had been served.

"I'm just glad that the wounds weren't so deep," he sighed, cutting into his bacon strips delicately with a butter knife.

Liz scoffed at this, bluntly commenting how skin wounds stung much more than flesh. "Think this is all you can do to repay the damage?"

"Medical bills are covered, breakfast has been served, and you'll find your new shoes in the mail on Thursday," he listed. "And I promise to house you until you and your cousin are back on the road."

And he did, going farther beyond the line of duty, his generosity touching her heart where others feared to stay. The lumberjack, while blushing, welcomed her to his cabin in the woods, offering Patty and Liz a place to sleep in the guest rooms and meals every single day. He was like a housewife, one that Liz could return to after a difficult day of robbing tourists and after meeting up with Patty to split the loot, even though Patty paid more attention to furniture than actual priceless jewels.

The dude shaved early in the morning, waking her up when all she wanted to do was block out the world for a few more hours. He sometimes dragged her around town against her will, treating her out to the local bars and other hidden gems, giving her full access to his funds after a moment of contemplation of how much he had, and how little people he could share it with it.

He was the town's sole lumberjack, working with no one else but his trusty chainsaw, caught in his own solitude after a forestry business pulled out of the area, claiming that a spirit had possessed the trees and how moaning could often be heard if you listened closely. It was fairly recent, but still spooking enough to avoid if possible.

Liz wondered how this man could be so… charming.