[A/N] Hihi! So umm, I won't be doing these author's notes very often, but I just wanted to say thanks for reading! And especially thank you guys for the comments/reviews! They make my day and it's a lot easier to write, knowing that people like my story.

I'm actually making up this story as I go, with no end in mind whatsoever, so I hope you guys like it!

But anyways, thank you thank you all for the reviews and follows! You guys are amazing~

I sleep with the feather clenched in my hand, under my pillow. It soothes some of my older nightmares, but brings me new ones, ones that involve Fang. More often than not, I end up waking with a jolt, every muscle in my body tensed, the feather clutched in my hand. I don't go anywhere with it. It stays in my pocket, one hand always touching it. I think my fingers have left permanent marks on it.

I've become more withdrawn, even with Iggy. He's voiced that I seem more skittish and well, more like I used to be. I don't comment on this. I feel like the way I used to be, the way I was when I first came back to the orphanage. We still spend much of our free time together, but I feel more comfortable in silence, brushing the pad of my thumb over the feather.

Day 267. I've gotten quite a few visitors here. They ranged from large families of 5 children, to couples who were just looking for one child. The nuns tell me I should be more open, more smiley, more willing to talk. I just blink back at them.

I don't want to be adopted. When will they understand? I'm not the type of person to be living in a household. I just want my 19th birthday to pass quickly so I can leave this place. I'm not sure where I would go, but I'm sick and tired of being ogled at like I'm some sort of object for sale. I wonder idly if Iggy feels that way, too. He's blind, but a lot of the time, he senses me looking at him.

It's been a long day, so I just lie back on my bed, staring at the grey sky through the window. It's going to rain soon. My kind of weather. I pull out the feather and smooth it out on my lap. I wonder if I'll ever see him again. I ask myself that often. I wonder what the odds are, that I may be able to see him again.

A sharp rap on the door knock me out of my stupor and a soft voice lets me know that it's time for dinner. I wince unconsciously. After leaving the mental hospital, I haven't liked food more. I feel like I've eaten less, if anything. But in this place, meals are not allowed to be skipped, so I force myself to my feet, and slip the feather carefully into my pocket before heading to the dining hall.

Iggy smiles in my direction when I sit down across from him. "Hey," he greets me softly. I mumble a greeting back, and poke at my food, slipping a few grains of rice into my mouth. The food here isn't bad. It's actually quite good, considering it was an orphanage that had to take care of hundreds of children, on a tight budget.

"Not going to eat tonight either?" Iggy teased, a half-smile on his face. I stay silent, chewing on the little pieces of rice in my mouth. "You know that's not healthy," Iggy sighs. I feel a bit of guilt wash over me. He's been going at my lack of appetite since the first few days he's known me. I know he's only concerned for my health and well-being, but I just can't bring myself to eat more.

Before I can mumble anything else though, he shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. I bite my tongue and wait for him to speak his mind.

"Just take care of yourself, alright Max?" His voice is light and nonchalant, but the look in his eyes are concerned, even though they don't quite meet my own. I nod, then remember that he can't see me. "I will," I whisper. I know Iggy hears me though, because he nods to himself and goes back to his own food.

I let a tiny smile cross my face as I watch him eat. It's uncanny how he can find his fork and the food on his plate with ease. I watch as he misses a piece of beef and my smile grows just the slightest bit wider.

"Left," I say, just loud enough for him to hear. He chuckles and spears the piece of meat, "Bull's-eye," he grins. I shake my head in amusement and wait for him to finish so we can leave together.

We have another two hours before lights go out and we're expected in bed. I used to spend those hours with "the gang", back when Angel, Gazzy, and Nudge were still here. For the past month, I've been keeping to myself in bed with the feather.

Tonight, Iggy asks me to walk with him. He tells me there's somewhere he wants to show me. "I haven't been there in forever, so I'm not sure if I'm going to walk into something and knock myself out," he grins in my direction.

I stare at him for a moment. That's a lie. His enhanced senses would allow him to easily dodge any brick walls. I go along with him anyways. Another night along with Fang's feather, while tempting, isn't healthy, much like my eating habits. I wonder how unhealthy my life is, compared to other "normal" people.

Iggy murmurs the directions, and I take his sleeve under the pretense that he needs leading. I wonder why he wants to show me the place.

We end up going to the attic, or what would be the attic of the orphanage. It's dark and dusty, but with a nice clean, this place would have been a wonder to see. Dusty or not, I stop in my tracks, surprise tainting my usually expressionless face. Iggy chuckles at my sudden inanimateness, "I thought you'd like it. It used to be Nudge's favourite place to drag me to, before Angel and Gazzy came along. She used to talk about how the view was so nice, and how she felt like she was on top of the world here."

I let go of Iggy's sleeve and walked up to one of the walls, completely made of glass. Looking closer, I could see that one panel of glass was a door. "I thought the balcony was just for show…" I mumble while opening it to let in a cool breeze. I walk out onto the stone balcony and Iggy follows me out. It's much larger than I thought.

I swing one leg over the barrier and breathe in the cool air, feeling shivers travel down my spine. My lips quirk upwards in a half-smile and I look over to where Iggy leans against the glass wall, eyes closed with his arms crossed. He looks relaxed.

"Thank you," I'm sure he can hear the smile in my voice. He smiles back but says nothing, merely shrugging nonchalantly. I turn my gaze back away from the orphanage. Nudge was right. It is beautiful here.

I'm busy admiring the view when a voice breaks me out of my thoughts. "Max?" It's masculine but soft, and so achingly familiar. I've never heard him say my name before. My head whips around, and my fingers clench around the solitary black feather shoved into my pocket.

There he is, eyes as wide as I've ever seen them, crouching on the ledge of the balcony. It's no wonder how I didn't see him. I had been sitting facing the right side of the building, and he had been crouching on the left side of the balcony. Or maybe he had been there for so long he had turned invisible.

His wings weren't in sight; they were probably pulled beneath his clothing. Iggy didn't sense anything until Fang had dropped silently from his perch and walked slowly towards us. I was wondering why he hadn't thought something was off sooner. Maybe he wasn't paying attention when Fang had spoken. Iggy's head cocked to the side, and he turned his head in Fang's direction, eyes still closed.

"Max, what's up?" Iggy asked. Fang froze, wary eyes fixed on Iggy's closed ones. I shook my head and was about to say that it was nothing before I realized that it wasn't nothing.

"Someone I haven't seen in a long time," I explained after a long hesitation. 267 days, in fact. Fang looks at me in surprise. Yes, I can manage to speak with other people. It's a sarcastic thought, and it surprises me. I don't usually think that way.

Iggy sticks his hand out in Fang's direction, eyes opening, but unfocused. Fang steps forward and takes his hand. "I'm Iggy," he introduces himself. Fang freezes for a moment, but snaps himself out of it. "Fang," he says quietly.

This time, Iggy locks eyes with him and smiles a little, "That's a pretty cool name. It's nice to meet you." They let go of each other's hands, and Fang steps away. He turns to me and just stares for a few long moments before I decide to speak.

"It's been a while." My voice is surprisingly bitter and raw with emotion, a stark difference with the emotionless voice I had planned to use. Fang is unreadable, but he gently takes my forearm and guides me back inside the balcony, away from the ledge.

"You just disappeared," he speaks quietly, almost so quietly I can't hear. I see a flash of pain in his eyes. "The next time I went to find you, there was some other girl in there. I didn't know where you went."

Iggy hears enough to realize that this is a private conversation and has enough tact to duck back into the attic, closing the door behind him. That, or he was feeling cold.

It is cold. I wrap my arms around myself and lean forward to rest my elbows on the cold granite ledge. He glances back at Iggy, "He's blind?" I nod, and seconds later, I hear him unfurl his wings and wrap one around me. The warmth is immediate, and I almost sigh in contentment.

Instead, I keep my eyes on the horizon, but allow myself to relax under his wing.

"You left that place?" It sounds more like a statement than a question. I nod, "A doctor came by the morning after you left. After I told him that I wasn't seeing things anymore, he declared me cured of schizophrenia. Apparently there are a lot more mentally unstable people out there than I thought, because they made me leave the next morning."

Fang says nothing, just stares into the granite ledge as though he's trying to make something out in the grey slabs of stone.

There's silence between us for a few minutes, until I break it. I wrap my fingers around the feather in my pocket and run the pad of my thumb along it again before pulling it out and holding it out so he can see it.

"I found this a month ago in the streets around here."

He takes it from me and gives it back after a moment, "You kept it for a month?" I see the corners of his lips twitch into a small smile, and my own lips curve into my tiny smile. "I missed you," is all I say.

He chuckles softly, "How were you so sure it was mine?" I shrug and run my fingers along it again, a motion that has come to bring me a sense of peace. "You've left me a lot of feathers since I was young. I know your feathers when I see them."

Fang regards me with an easy smile and an emotion that I cannot understand. Then he shrugs, "Fair enough."

Thunder rumbles in the distance, and a few drops of rain fall onto the ledge. "I think that's your cue to go back inside," he says. I glance back at Iggy, who's sitting on the floor inside, idly drawing patterns with a slender finger.

I take a deep breath of cool air and exhale slowly. As if sensing my resignation, Fang retracts his wing, rather reluctantly, where it disappears under his clothing again. I wonder when I'll be able to see him again, but don't voice my thoughts. There's never been an answer to that question.

To my surprise, he answers my unspoken question, "I'll try to be here once a week, same time as today." His lips curve into a beautiful half-smile, and I feel my cheeks heat up faintly. My small smile widens fractionally, and I nod, "Next week."

I watch as his image fades away before going back inside. Iggy's head snaps up at the sound, and I close the glass door behind me.

"You done?" he smiles, and I nod while glancing back at the balcony. There's no indication that Fang's still there. "Yeah," I say, and catch his sleeve between my fingers, "Let's head back."

The feather peeks out from my pocket, and I wrap my free hand around it, feeling a sense of calm wash over me as we make our way back downstairs.