Some things never fade.

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“So, food to eat before you eat.. food?” Confusion marked his features. “Yes, um.. so some food takes a bit longer to cook and instead of bringing everyone’s meal at different times they will usually wait until the last entrée is done to bring them. But.. if you’re not sure how long that will be and you’re hungry you get an appetizer. Or if you’re not quite hungry enough for a meal, you can order them as well.” Casual glance up from perusing the menu, her bottom lip poked out as she debated, “Maybe mozzarella sticks? Mm.. No, something a little lighter maybe?” Eyebrows lifted above eyes the color of sunlit honey, “I did not know that. I always wondered how they managed the timing. Good to know.”

“What’s a maht-zuh-rella stick?” Train of thought dissipated at the question. She stared up at him over the menu, his wings nervously tight against his back in the dimness of the restaurant. London really felt bad about their seating, but with his wings most of the booths were impossible. So here they sat, pressed up against a long wall of windows at their back and this sweet angel bean was dealing with his back exposed. She had been ready to leave as soon as they were seated but he insisted they at least try something quick from the menu since it was a new place. The soft pleading in his eyes melted her resolve instantly and he knew it. So with a grin on his face and a sigh from her, they stayed.

“Mozzarella. It’s a cheese made of buffalo milk instead of cows milk It’s um.. breaded and deep fried, and you uh.. dip it in marinara sauce. That’s a sort of seasoned tomato sauce. Completely unhealthy in every way. I’m not a fan, but you might like them. We can also order some uh.. “She had been about to say ‘wings’ but stopped herself in time. “Um. Some stuffed potato skins.”

Their wait staff had nervously taken their order, button festooned suspenders mildly distracting as they took the drink order and ‘gave them a few minutes’ to decide before darting off to tend other guests.

She smiled before setting her menu down and looking around. The holo-visors all had codes on the screens indicating the number to input to access the videos they would display. Most of them were set to either news, kid shows or sports. She had no real interest in any of them so didn’t bother to plug her headset into the table. Instead she looked out at the pouring rain that had driven them inside to start. The streets had taken on the glimmering sheen she remembered from old cyberpunk dystopian movies, only the rain wasn’t acid and she wasn’t a bitter detective caught between some sexy love interest turned betrayer and a bottle of bourbon.

Instead, she watched people scurry about on a downtown street, her hands wrapped around a warm cup of crappy tea, trying to figure out the exact moment she had started contemplating what an angel’s bed looked like.

While he never made any fuss about sleeping at hers, it was obvious that her bed was far too small for his eight foot frame. At least twice a week, he would tap on her door and simply state, “I would like cuddles please, if you feel up to it.” And they would cuddle for hours, sometimes watching movies, or listening to music and talking, or simply sitting in silence, a tangle of limbs with the occasional shift or contented yawn. If he spent the night, and she awoke up first, she often found him mostly on the floor, one wing draped across her and the bed. This was wholly unacceptable for several reasons. Tapping her lip, she let her mind wander across variations of beds. Mats, platforms, suspended bed frames, hammocks, they would all depend on if he was naturally a back, side or stomach sleeper.

Eventually their order was taken and Ezekiel bit into his first appetizer, strings of gooey cheese pulling a delighted chuckle between rapid huffs to cool the molten dairy filling his mouth with an explosion of flavor. He never noticed the stares as he ate, London did and she wasn’t sure if it irritated or amused her more. Angels weren’t the only non-Terrans around but the wings never failed to pull at something in humans and fill them with a sort of yearning. Most likely something to do with flying and all that. Plus he was heads, shoulders and sometimes chests above most people. Plus he was amazingly beautiful. She shook her head and took a bite of her own dish, humming happily at the taste.

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