The concept of time is lost on me. All I feel is pure agony, every muscle in my body aching with an excruciating pain. My vocal chords are damaged from my screams. My limbs are bound and leave me immobile. I am tired and in great pain, my soul feels like it has been crushed over and over again.

And then... then I feel nothing.

It is a complete void, no voices, no emotions, no touch, no sensation, nothing.

I wake up with a start, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. It must have been a nightmare because as I examine my limbs, there is no mark to claim I was bound.

Surprisingly, I feel stronger than I ever have, a little strange as well.

I strain myself to think why I feel different and that's when the memories came rushing back.

Harry had agreed to turn me after Lilith's reasoning. He had strode in with purpose, masking every emotion but I could tell he was heartbroken upon the knowledge that I was getting hurt in his vicinity. I was strapped to a wall to begin my reincarnation. Harry had used a knife to slice his wrist open and made me lick the black liquid oozing out, he had proceeded to use the same knife to slice in different patterns on my skin, my soul burning with each nip of the blade.

Then came the voices, the haunting chants of the devil devouring my mind, making me weaker and weaker with each sound until I couldn't resist him overtaking my senses. He drove the dagger straight through my heart.

That is the last thing I remember.

There is a movement beside me, causing me to tense as a figure approaches the bed I am laying on.

"Rise."

My body moves on its own accord and I find myself standing in front of Harry, his eyes glowing in a golden shade, his hand holding a black staff with a crystal ball atop it.

His hand rests on my chest as he starts another incantation. His eyes turn black and a dark aura surrounds us. It enters inside me through my chest and I feel it seeping into my veins, making me fall forward with a piercing scream.

A loud thunder shakes the ground beneath us. The sky roars and I feel my connection with heaven weakening with each passing moment. It hangs by a mere thread when I get a vision of an impending war. When the last thread snaps, I crumble to the ground in exhaustion.

-

The next time I wake up, I am more aware of my surroundings and less delusional. Even with my eyes closed, I know Harry is staring at me, I feel his gaze follow every rise and fall of my chest.

Try as I might, I can't bring myself to open my eyes, a heaviness trying to pull me back into slumber. But I want to see him, want to feel him.

"Sleep now, angel," he murmurs, barely audible, but my body obeys, letting the curtain of darkness fall over me again.

-

A finger is tracing the skin above my sternum, travelling up and down absentmindedly.

He is laying beside me, his body heat seeping into my skin. This feels good, natural. He is here and I am not hurting, his presence feels like a big relief, a warm supper at a cold night.

I turn toward him, his hand halting in the process before curling around my waist as he pulls me closer.

"Ready to wake up, angel?" He whispers in my ear, an underlying mirth in his tone. I must have given some sort of reply as I hear him laugh lightly. His lips press to my forehead, "My angel, I miss your eyes."

I hum and tilt my face up, nuzzling at his cheek and finally opening my eyes. It takes a moment for my vision to adjust, but what I see is breathtaking. Harry's smile is warm and kind, his eyes a beautiful, deep forest pulling me in, his hair falling seamlessly by his shoulder.

"Not an angel anymore," I challenge him, aware that it would anger him but still wanting to make it clear.

His grip on my back hardens, nails pricking the surface. "My angel," he grits out, "Always."

I cup his face in my hands and press our foreheads together, "You, too."

"No."

"My sweet angel," I call him.

"Don't," he sounds pained.

"You are," I insist, "My kind and sweet angel. My misunderstood love. My Harry."

"Lou..." he closes the small gap and kisses me softly. "Your Harry?" His voice is uncertain and my heart flutters as I understand the meaning of it.

"Yes," I whisper, rejoicing in the smile that breaks at his lips.

Upon our eventful reunion I had been convinced that I had lost any trace of the angel I had fallen in love with, but as the weeks had passed, I started seeing the glimpses of him behind those black eyes. And now, now I have him back. He may still not remember much of our past, but he knows what love is, knows how to show it.

He is mine, and I am his.

He shifts me on my back and pulls himself on top, his wings obscuring our surroundings and engulfing me within him.

"You are beautiful," he tells me, "I thought I would hate myself for marring you with such evil, but angel, even with a broken hallow you still have the purest heart. For only you could forgive the devil."

"Harry, you are not the devil, not to me," I assure him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, "You are my lover, you are my everything. I would kill for you."

His eyes darken, falling to my lips for a brief moment. "You'd commit a sin so vile? Shed blood with your hands?"

"Only for you."

His lips fall on mine, claiming them with an urgency while my hands tangle into his hair, pulling him closer than possible.

"My angel," he whispers, nibbling at my lip, "Come, I have a gift for you."

Confused, I allow him to help me stand, my body protesting and the bed calling me back.

"It won't take long," he assures, "It'll even help you regain strength."

I let his arms guide me in front of the mirror. I notice the small changes, whilst my hallow had stopped glowing a long time ago, now it was broken and crooked, confirming my status here. My skin appears pale, but still not as much as Harry's. My eyes though, they are the same, not a blanket of darkness but the same blue they had always been.

Harry's hands travel down my shoulders to my back. I watch his reflection as his eyes turn golden and he murmurs something under his breath. I feel warmth seep into me, my whole being rejuvenating as his powers travel through every inch of it. My eyes flutter close and I feel myself getting stronger with each passing moment.

Even after his hands leave my body, I feel his touch against my skin, a foreign yet agonisingly familiar sensation accompanying it.

"I have taken a lot from you," his guilt ridden voice speaks against my ear, "This is the least I could do to show how apologetic I am." His lips meet my bare shoulder, a small kiss delivering his apology.

I open my eyes to search for meaning behind his words when I see them. They are beautiful, reaching down to my shins and have a shade as dark as night with aqueous blue littering the edges.

He gave me my wings.