<em>Yes, they are for you to see, for you  Tegan</em><br/><br/>He didn't look at her, his torso pressed to hers, head buried in her shoulder. The wings fluttered, restless and still growing dry at their sudden exposure. They bent down, resting heavy on the table to either side of their joined bodies. He did not leave her, caught deep within her passage, gripped, still full and heavy. he did not move at all as he listened to her breathe, listened to her heart beat against his ear. he stayed with her, hers.<br/><br/>The blood ran over a muscled back, across human flesh that was never meant to hide who or what he was. The skin torn and pulled my the violent action molded itself to the strong tendons of the wings themselves, fusing and firming to create a seal. The pain was worse that any torment caused by man, a reminder of his state. No longer and angel, the feathers perverted into a leathery substance, the barbs along the quills.<br/><br/>He did not look to Tegan, the glory of his former self marred and shameful, but she would not know. He rested against her as her lover, as /her/ incubus. As the creature she had summoned, given form and now flesh to. One that could survive away from the callous abyss that he had known. In that he drew strength, and sadness. He would never have been hers had he not been ordered to fall. never would have been summoned if he had not rebelled. A cruel and devious twist that even know stung him.<br/><br/>In that moment he hated himself. But the hate could not last, not with her so near. Her being, her life and vitality. her happiness quenched the burn of hate like a tsunami against a beach-fire. And he stayed against her,breathing slowly, letting her see and touch his wings as she would, not wanting to move from the first safety he had known since the fall.