Gone were the worries of threats against her husband, against her daughter, all replaced with a tightening in her core that she couldn’t help, his touch only making it worse, her skin heated under his arms as they wrapped around her small frame. He was so delicate, it ripped her heart in two, it nearly convulsed and jumped out of her chest, ready to offer itself to him if he needed it. While Azriel was Imperfect’s anchor, in the bedroom, their roles switched. She was the one in charge, she made the decisions, and while she knew it liberated her husband to be so submissive, it also had the same effect to be the dominant one.

She felt free.

Giving in to her hungry body which craved for him like nothing else, so much so that she didn’t have the patience to explain, her fingers moved into his hair, pulling his head forward so the kiss deepened, her lips instantly swelling, exerting passions and lust, and love, and life into the movement. Her dancing tongue pressed into his mouth, soaking up his taste, letting the kiss tell him what she wanted instead of words. Words would ruin the moment, she didn’t want them hanging in the air, she wanted this to be intimate, just them in their bubble of desire.

She had to physically tear away from the kiss and it wasn’t because she needed air; she wanted to slip out of the dress, tossing it to the floor in a rushed manner before her hands wandered over his skin, her fingers moving over every part of him until they rested on his hips, tugging the material that stood between her flesh against his. Why was she suddenly so in need of him? She didn’t dwell on the question, but pushed forward to take his mouth once more, breathless, panting, living.

She was alive.

We don’t know if it’s necessarily a bad thing.

But Imperfect knew that the darkening of his wings and his blurred memory couldn’t possibly be a good thing. Of course, she kept this to herself, trying to keep the worry that bubbled in the pit of her stomach at bay while simultaneously attempting to reassure the man of something she didn’t believe herself. It wasn’t even close to night and already she had received news that worried her to no end.

She knew her close distance, without him having to even say it, comforted him, made him vulnerable in a way that he couldn’t emphasise, and she remembers the first time he had felt that way and how foreign it was to him, feeling like he wasn’t in control, letting himself go completely. As she recounts, a small smile curves the sides of her lips and she leans back up, pulling him, and the hem of her dress with the movement, letting their kiss deepen and their minds traverse to another universe.

They had all this time on their hands, after all.

Why dwell on the bad when they could rejoice while they had the chance?

As his hands rest on the skin of her thighs, her brows furrow in response to the worry that still creased his forehead, the lines thin and barely visible on his porcelain skin, but noticeable to his wife who could paint that face with her eyes closed. The worry was infectious and it crept up on her quickly, turning her stomach a little as she listens.

He was right.

When did he ever forget anything?

Over the years he had gone on countless travels, to hundreds of dimensions and remembered, with no difficulty what they were like, and when he would come home he would tell her about them. Sometimes, when they stayed up late at night and spoke about life, and what they wanted, she would sometimes tell him about gifts that seemed nice, and he would bring them back for her. It didn’t matter if she had told him about it three days ago, or three years; the point was, he would never forget.

“I don’t know. . .” she replies, shaking her head as his eyes pierced her, and though he didn’t voice it, she knew he was searching for answers within her hazel orbs. Answers that she didn’t have, unfortunately.

When he mentions his wings and scar, she nods. This transformation wasn’t new to her; she had noticed how darker his wings were, they had gone from a charcoal grey to a dark, dark black. Not to mention, his scar. A finger lightly traces it over the shirt he was wearing, while her free hand cups his cheek, leaning down to press a reassuring kiss to his lips.

When she parts, she stays close; close enough so that their lips touch when she speaks, “don’t worry yourself until you know exactly why this is happening.”

Now it was time for her to be the voice of reason.

"We don't know if it's necessarily a bad thing yet."

Imperfect continued chewing on the block of ice until it had melted completely and unbeknown to her husband, her attention was drawn once more, to him, brows furrowing as she watched a look of worry wash over his features. She stayed silent as she watched him, and rather than drink the beverage in his hand, he placed it on the counter and almost sprinted upstairs before she could even ask him what he was thinking about.

What the hell was going on?

She wasn’t going to sit around and wait for the answers so she followed suit and sprinted up the stairs, running to their bedroom, her light footsteps echoing through the hall, only to find him lying flat on his back, and looking through the skylight. Though the look on his face hadn’t changed, he still seemed so worried, and so contemplative, like he needed answers, and what a coincidence that she needed them too.

“Az?”

As she spoke, she takes a few steps forward so she’s standing near the edge of their bed, lifting one leg so her knee rested on the soft cushioned duvet.

“What’s wrong?”

With the next two words, she lifted her body completely off the ground, moving forward to sit on his lap, straddling his waist, but not letting her weight drop onto him yet, in an attempt to distract him and bring his focus back to her. She imagined that he was thinking about their daughter because there was absolutely nothing else in this world that could make him so absent-minded.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Azriel often wandered how Imperfect got along so well with humans considering everything she had gone through in her past, and this is what set them apart. Imperfect had a way of dealing with emotion and grounding her feelings like no other; she let herself experience every sensation the heart had to offer, and so her emotional capacity was far beyond her. Another reason why they got along so well however was that at times like this when their child’s life was clearly in danger, and she couldn’t be reasonable, Azriel stepped in and did that, not only providing comfort with his touch, but speaking words of wisdom.

“You’re right,” she mumbled, the words a whisper, meant only for him to hear.

She watched everything unfold before her like a written play - Azriel calmed her daughters worries and all she did was watch, lost in thought; the chain of events before her darkened the emerald hue in her gaze to a more brown one. The woman shifted her weight as she nibbled on her bottom lip before Calyx’s voice snapped her out of her own thoughts, shaking her head in response before setting a kiss to his cheek in a silent greeting. The last thing she needed, and she knew that her snow-haired lover would respect, was to burden Calyx with something they themselves hadn’t figured out entirely.

“No my dear, Az prepared a few things for her so we just came to drop it off.”

She smiles at her son to wash away any concerns he may have, and then watches the interaction between both her children, her body visibly relaxing, unintentionally moving closer to Azriel to lean against him, letting him support her weight. Before Calyx and her angel disappeared, she blew a kiss in their general direction and waved goodbye, watching Isis do the same before vanishing completely.

One thing she adored was the relationship between her children - though they were different in so many ways, they shared an unbreakable bond, and she had always taught Isis to respect and love her brother like no one else. Perhaps Imperfect’s brother abandoning her was the reason she always reminded her daughter to cherish her sibling.

Again. Her mind was doing it again; going off on tangents.

She didn’t need to verbalise what she wanted to do, and after asking the teachers about how Isis was doing, they took to the open skies and made their way home. Her lover was fast, and they sometimes even raced, though he always had an unfair advantage, there weren’t many other angels like him. Though, he was sometimes surprised by how fast Imperfect was - her own wings heavy but reliable, and strong.

When they finally make their way back into their home, she looks around absentmindedly, her tongue sliding over her dry lips, and it only occurred to her now how thirsty she was.

“Do you want anything to drink, my love?”

Her words echoed down the hall as she walks over to the fridge, pulling open the freezer door to retrieve some ice cubes. Plopping one into her mouth, she let it click against her teeth, biting into it, letting it melt on her tongue and cool her throat. This, like the biting of her bottom lip, was something she did when she was nervous, and her ignoring the situation at hand to ask her lover what drink he wanted only conveyed it more. She jumps up so she is sitting on the counter before pushing another ice cube into her mouth, biting into it harshly.

It was unlike Imperfect to act out of fear.  After all she had seen,  endured,  and survived, it seemed like a useless emotion for her. But now the terror was clearly legible in her expression; at least,  to Azriel.

He recalled when she told him what she and Calyx had endured for the first two years of his life.  The torture she was subjected to,  at the hands of humans no less, as they attempted to make her son into a weapon! He was assigned that she wasn't shriveled and broken! It was almost impossible to believe that she wasn't afraid of humans; that she didn't hate them! But as long as he had known her, he had never seen her express hatred.  Her heart was so strong, and full of love; free from hatred or fear…

But that wasn't the case now.  She may not have feared for herself,  but her children were a different case! The thought of Isis having to suffer the way Calyx did terrified her. And it showed in her eyes! Naturally,  Azriel shared in that fear,  but the two had very different approaches on how to deal with it.

Imperfect: Protect her
Azriel: Prepare her

Isis was strong like her mother,  and wise like her father. But she didn't have a Draconian or Godly bloodline like her brother,  or the other children in The Dragon's Den. Physically, she would always be frail by comparison.  But she could make up for that weakness by sharpening her own strengths! She would need strength of mind and spirit that was unrivaled,  and a willpower that couldn't be broken.  Azriel believed Isis to have those things.  But she would also need experience; an education beyond what he and Imperfect could provide her with. Raijuta believed that even he sent Calyx on his travels, and even he sent Winter to that Academy,  and Azriel believed he was right! Of course,  Isis was too young to go out on her own,  but the concept was the same.  Private school wouldn't give her what she needed!

Azriel took Imperfect's hands in his own, and kissed her forehead in attempt to calm her mind, and halt her nervous pacing.

“I don't think we should pull her out of this school.” he said calmly. “There isn't another like it in the world, and there's no way we can match what it has to offer her.” He found his own statement ironic,  being the Angel of Knowledge.  But his knowledge wasn't what Isis needed, and he understood that. 

It was then that the bell rang,  and Azriel recalled the result dismissal that day! Calyx had told him about it a few weeks prior after picking Isis up from school. The kids outside weren't at recess! They were waiting on their parents!

Isis came out of the classroom alone,  surprised to see her parents by the door.  She quickly inquired as to the reason for their presence,  most likely worried that she wouldn't be allowed to go with her brother.  Azriel smiled and kissed her forehead,  the same way he had done to pacify her mother.

“He is,  little one.” His voice had a way of soothing the child's fears.

“We just came to bring you your things.” he said,  materializing an overnight bag for the girl. 

He made the story up on the fly.  Of course,  Isis already had clothes. And anything she would need at The Dragon's Den. But she didn't question it,  chirping a “Thank you!” as she took the bag.

The Principal was a kind lady. She was always looking out for the children and going out of her way to be helpful in whatever ways she could.  She directed Azriel and Imperfect in the direction of the classroom, despite them having been there a million times.  Azriel loved the school. There was something about the smell in the hallways that was pleasing to him. They had almost arrived when Imperfect stopped him.

He already knew what she wanted when she gave him those big puppy-dog eyes. She always tried it though it rarely had an effect great enough to get her what she wanted. His emotional density worked against her in that way. He gave her what she wanted when he felt it was in her best interest to have it, or when she could convince him that he should. Cute faces had little effect, but she continued to try!

He listened to her request just the same, considering it carefully. Taking her out of school wouldn't make much difference other than to soothe Imperfect's concerns. But what about the next day? Or the day after that? They couldn't just pull her out of school completely, or isolate her? Sure, Calyx and his other siblings were all home schooled, but they still had interactions with other children! They couldn't deprive Isis of that. But there was ultimately one deciding factor in pulling Isis out of school.

"Calyx was supposed to take her to the Dragon's Den after school. Are we going to tell her she can't go?" He knew that Imperfect hated to disappoint their daughter. But he also knew how afraid she currently was. Of course, they could take her there themselves... But then it would be the same risk as keeping her in school. It was a tough call to make, but at the end of the day, he would allow Imperfect to make whichever decision she felt was best.

Imperfect had a thing for physically changing her clothes. Azriel felt like constantly wearing different things was a pain. But naturally, Imperfect had educated him on the cultural importance of having different appearances for different occasions. Even so, he didn't share his wife's enjoyment of actually taking off and putting on clothes. A wave of his arms, and his robes turned to a presentable blue shirt and grey slacks. He wore a nice blazer and black tie, his hair pulled back into a ponytail. Once Imperfect returned, they would be on their way.

They arrived to see the little Fallen ones were out at play. Tumbling around, learning to use their wings. However, Isis was not among them. Why wasn't she playing with the other kids? He knew she didn't have social problems. She loved to play with the other kids in the Dragon's Den! A glance at the window showed that she was still inside, staring out the window. "It seems she's a daydreamer, like her mother." Azriel said, taking Imperfect by the hand as he headed for the door.

The children waved as the couple flew by, and Azriel waved back. He and Imperfect were well known in the Fallen Department as they were frequent contributors in one way or another, and most of the students and their families lived within the Dimension that they had created. Also Azriel was quite famous himself among the Fallen Community. To his knowledge, only one other six winged Angel had fallen from grace, so it was only natural. But fame wasn't something he cared for. He simply wanted to look out for his own kind. A few more steps and they made their way through the front door. All that was left was to check in with the Principal.

Though her husband sometimes had trouble sensing emotion, he always knew when to comfort her, his touch and words enough to calm her down from the frenzy she had worked herself into. Her thoughts began to fade slowly, replaced by his words, dripping with nothing but sincerity and she couldn’t help but smile at him, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips, and as she stands, one more to his forehead.

“I’ll go get changed.”

Her hands slips from his as she walks back into their house, and up the stairs, having forgotten completely about their breakfast. Their bedroom was exquisite; the walls, the furniture, the tiles, everything was a heavenly shade of white. Their bed hung from the ceiling, a white veil acting as a curtain around it, and the headboard was wooden, it went well with the colour they had opted for. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, though it wasn’t turned on, but when it was, it cast an iridescent purple shade rather than the original white or pale yellow. Making her way to the wardrobe quickly, she grabs the first dress, a black one and pulls it over her head in a rush, before slipping into some heels and practically running down the stairs back to her husband.

Instead of making her way to the door she puts the cups and plates back onto the tray, carrying it back into the kitchen, speaking as she walked.

“I didn’t even let you eat properly.”

After giving the plates a quick wash, she dries her hands off and walks back out into the garden, her wings lifting up and standing tall behind her as she does so.

“Let's go.”

As he takes her hand into his, she feels her heart sink in her chest, her own hold on his hand tightening with worry when he mentions Isis. If there was anything Imperfect would die for, it’s her children; years ago when she was given the ultimatum by Rai’s clan to give her son up, she refused, knowing full well that her decision could ultimately mean her death, and she would still make that same choice a hundred times over. They weren’t exactly ecstatic when they found out she was giving birth to the child of their clan leader, and to this day, neither she or Raijuta actually know who kidnapped both her and Calyx when he was but an infant. When her children were put into the equation, she would do absolutely anything to ensure their safety and survival.

“W-what do-”

The words didn’t make it out because she was stunned into silence, and all she could hear is the loud thump in her chest, her heart beating frantically with the news she was given. Though he had come forth with the premonition, she knew that he hadn’t told her everything and a selfish part of her was glad, but another worried that Isis was in grave danger and that she couldn’t stop whatever it was coming for her daughter.

“Okay,” she inhales deeply, composing herself and trying to get a hold of her emotions before she went completely mad with worry, “there’s no indication of when she’ll have to make this choice?”

Ultimately, it didn’t matter when she would have to make the choice, the simple fact that her brunette haired, button-nosed girl would be forced to make a decision worried her beyond comprehension. Her right leg begins bouncing up and down, a habit she couldn’t control, one that only happened when she was thinking of a thousand things at once. Right now, she was thinking about how they, as parents, needed to protect their daughter from this choice she was supposed to make.

“Maybe we can move,” she looks at her husband with a hopeful stare, her emerald gaze cutting into him practically, “is it even safe for her to be here? I mean, we don’t even know what’s coming for her, right? You don’t know what’s coming, you said it yourself Az, this thing could be dangerous, what if-.”

The next thought that came to her mind was one that she couldn’t even speak into existence, and it brought back memories of her and Calyx, in that torture house for two years, where they had been victim to multiple beatings, malnourishment. All she could think was how much of a bad omen she seemed to be; both births were difficult, and both were proving to endanger lives, most importantly, her child's life. What if they were coming to take her and Isis this time? She looks at her husband for answers, biting her bottom lip nervously.

“Perhaps. . . we could go to her school? To check up on her?”