(I wrote this on my phone. Sorry if it sucks. Okay, bai)

X • Chris' POV • X

4 Years Ago

We carried on. We carried on, we carried on. Why? It was all we could do... It is all we can ever do. Because, mistakes and misfortunes will happen, but there is no time machine to reverse this all. Even if I could step back in time, how could I stop what happened? Sometimes, fate is fate.

My angel has forgotten how to smile many times before, as have I. Apart of love, is we teach other again and again. Our patience never runs away. Love is patient, love is kind. Something, some people will never learn, but our years have taught us well.

Angelo may blame himself, he may never sleep again, he may never know a day without tears from now on. I'll change it. I can't look into his eyes and see pain, and not fix it. That's not who I am. That's not the man I am, that's not the husband I am.

The others kept their distance. Even I did, when he needed it. Other moments, I'd have him in my arms so he could cry over the life we've lost. He doesn't speak much, since it happened a few days ago. It's been four long days since. Four dragging, agonizing, very long days.

As the sun set, I woke to realize the bed was empty. I fixed my makeup and hair, but I wasn't in the mood to do much with it. After throwing on some clothes and sharpening my fangs, like I do every morning, I was off to find Angelo in this big house.

We built this, his hands and mine. A house, built of stone and wood, is but the least glorious thing we've made together. He and I have strived in our long lives. We've also failed, fallen, weeped. We're still here. We will survive this, whether he believes so or not.

No one was even up. The sun hasn't fully set, but this pain has kept Angelo from sleeping. Can I blame him? I found him in the kitchen. The violet light of the sunset coated the white walls. He was making himself coffee, and I noticed he poured it straight, without blood. When he turned around and saw me, he set his coffee down on the center island. He opened the cupboard behind him and pulled out another mug, pouring some coffee in it. Then he grabbed a vile of blood from the fridge, adding it to the cup.

Angelo set the coffee close to me on the counter. He didn't say anything. I sighed in the piercing silence, looking down at my reflection in the coffee.

"Ang, you haven't drank any blood in a while." I lovingly reminded him.

"Chris-"

"I don't want you sick, Baby." I interrupted as I looked up at him.

He stared back, then away again, gluing his eyes to anything but me. "I just haven't been hungry for any. I'm fine, Chris. I promise."

Angelo grabbed his coffee and walked over to the window. His back faced me as I stood there, staring at the love of my life. Why was he shelling himself up like this? He knows it'll make it all worse.

"You're not fine." I whispered. "Angel, you're not fine. I'm not fine. We're not fine."

He gripped his coffee tighter. His mouth was open, ready to snap at me or break down. Which, I couldn't tell. However, Angelo shut his mouth and tensed his shoulders when he heard another voice enter the kitchen.

"Morning." TJ greeted. "What?"

"Nothing." I groaned.

Angelo turned back around and put his coffee cup in the sink. He continued to walk out of the room, not saying another word to me. Not a word.

"What's up with drama queen?" TJ sneered.

"TJ, knock it off." I mumbled.

He frowned. "I'm sorry Chris. I know this has been hard on you." He said as he leaned in close to me. His hand fell on the small of my back. "I'm here for you, if you need me."

I shrugged his hand off of me. "If you care, go check on Angelo. Without insulting or hurting him."

TJ huffed. "Fine."

X • X • X • X

Fifteen minutes have passed, and nothing. The others had come to wake in that time, and they were just as worried about Angelo, just wondering off like that. Finally, TJ returned. He seemed a little aggravated.

"You're not going to believe this one." He muttered. "Angelo has done some questionable shit, but this one is beyond psychotic."

"I'd prefer if you didn't call my husband psychotic." I sighed.

"Just follow me. You're going to have to see this one to believe it." TJ gawked.

I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior, but still followed him. He lead me to the main hallway, the others following behind. What I saw, made my stomach drop. I wasn't sure how to take it.

Angelo was walking with an unconscious angel in his arms. The creature's hair wasn't white or blond, as it should have been. It was black as coal. His wings, looked as if they had been washed in sewer water. It was obvious this creature wasn't well, by the paleness of his skin and the smell of death emanating off of him.

"Angelo?" I slightly asked.

"They left him in the forest next to the house. He's dying, Chris. I'm not letting another pure soul die on my watch." He mumbled in return.

I sighed. "At least let me carry him. You're too weak."

That, he didn't argue with. I didn't argue with him either. If this is what his heart needs to heal, so be it.

"You can't be serious!" TJ complained. "He's an angel. Am I the only one that finds something wrong with that?"

"Chris? Can we put him back in the dungeon?" Balz asked.

"No, but TJ, the house better be spotless by sunrise. Oh and Ryan, tell the maids they can have the day off." I replied.

I didn't turn around from the path I was already walking, but I didn't need to, to know TJ's jaw was on the floor. He deserves it for the way he's been acting.

I held this angel in my arms. He was beautiful. His skin was flushed white, against silky black hair. All his features were rather small, reminding me of a doll. He was rail thin though. The poor thing looked like he hadn't eaten in a year! Was I truly sympathizing with an angel? I should hate this creature. It's my nature to want to rip his throat out. Yet, I want to nurture him. Perhaps Angelo is right to do this.