She was playing her role perfectly. Blue eyed doe. His head moved subtly from side to side, his chin cutting the air carefully was he watched her. It was such an insult that she dubbed their churches with meaning, when it was so basic compared to how they'd been raised up. It smarted to be human, today. He laughed bitterly, vengeful and looked away. So their prayers fed into the vat of energy that the angels tapped in to? Well, then, didn't that make Haven a leech off human's heartfelt pleading? No wonder there'd been a drought of miracles for millennia, when there was nothing gainful for angels to tend to humans.<br/><br/>The way she was compressed by his wonderings, it was absolutely delectable. His mouth watered for her, drowning the bites he took. Here was his real meal, with black hair and deep blues. His lust growled like any vacant stomach would. He remembered the grand scenes when she talked of them. Giant fields of feathered bodies, and other limbs too, their opposite kind. It was all so interesting. All that glory had forgotten about man, and man had made up stories in the wake of inclusion, worshipping at the heels of conflicts that ignored man's worth. In truth, humans had no consequence.<br/><br/>Her rouse to make her upright had his heart move blood faster. He stood slower while she answered. Sad, discarded fighter. She took such time delivering the truth to him that it could  be nothing but that. He bit his salty lip and then wiped himself. He wanted more of her. She was this fantastical cove of riches. He meant to be civil about it, to enjoy her like some sophisticated discoverer, but she was making it so difficult, flaunting her propensity for heartbreak as much as she had revealed her useful immortality.<br/><br/>Roan climbed the table easily, as though he wasn't towering over Iris already, and stood by her edge, looking down. How could anyone have missed the reversal. With the daylight coming in as it did, his eyes were shadowed, up high, and he might as well have been a flesh statue, eternally judging her for her weaknesses. Admittedly, he loved them. "So you'd rather this." he said, arms out at their kingdom of stove plates and decently priced appliances. "You'd rather stay with this wildling of an inferior than try your voice at the gates?"<br/><br/>He squatted down, knees at the level of his eyes. Her personal gargoyle. His hand reached out to hold her chin, thumb resting on her lower lip. How beautiful she was, displaying human dismay. He pulled her toward him, stretched her neck uncomfortably to kiss her deeply. She tasted like the food she'd barely eaten, and he didn't know what his tongue was flavored with. He let up a little, letting her move back a step, but he was still holding her chin possessively, dominantly. "So Heaven won't enforce you if I continue to keep you?" he asked as that hand finally slipped, and hooked into the neckline of her shirt. "You could scream and they'd never hear you?"