Talk about one hell of a job. Literally, one hellion, and her job. What had she done to be assigned to this; she wondered. The answer to the question was unknown, but she could hear the snicker of others watching her- probably imagining what the other angels were doing as they watched. This would be a kick for them, but so far this was a tough case. This man, Peter, wasn't budging on either side. His scale was not tipping, and that meant she was going to be bound here for what felt like- and could possibly be- forever.<br/><br/>Azalea was an angel, standing a slender yet lean height of 5'7 with tanned skin and smooth black curls tied back by a white ribbon. Her face was smooth, bearing high cheek bones, a small nose, full lips, and somewhat narrow, almost shaped eyes. Her eyes were a sweet icy blue with long lashes casing those gentle hues, all beneath thin arched brows that easily accentuated her emotions when they came to be expressed. Her body was smooth, flawless and without moles, pimples, or scars; clad in a white 'V' neck longsleeve and a white knee-length pencil skirt. White closed toed heels topped off her outfit, making her look like Heaven's secretary, a woman very down to business and yet with an aura of kindness and hearth about her.<br/><br/>She stood with her arms folded across her chest, staring at Peter in his bed, wondering how late this human could sleep in. And how long before the pitted verbal scritch-scratch happened between her and the man's<em>other</em>conscience boost.<br/><br/>Her eyes studied the man and finally she reached for his ankle, and withdrawing it back.<em>Don't wake him up, that's the moron's job.</em><br/><br/>As he shifted again, Azalea then chose to clear her throat, speaking up in a voice slightly tinted with an Italian accent, though her speech was flawless as well.<br/><br/>"Good morning Peter."