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Severn let loose a pathetic squeak of a noise he’d never in his entire life made before and then followed it with a vicious, “Fuck,”
I love this
Ideally, he’d have run from the room, but as the door was locked, flinging himself off the balcony was the next option.
So casual
angels were emotional planks and wouldn’t know a relationship if it kissed them on the lips.
“So…” he began. “I’m fine, as you can see. Rumors of my death were greatly exaggerated.
He couldn’t explain it, didn’t know where it had come from, and had no hope of understanding what any of this meant, and somehow that made this moment more thrilling.
“I fell the first time I saw you. I’ve been falling ever since. I fear I love you, Severn,” Mikhail’s voice thickened and quivered. “Since you broke into my ranks and demanded to fight me like you could fight the world.”
“I’ve only loved you since Tuesday…”
WHAT A WAY TO FOLLOW UP THAT LOVE PROCLAMATION
His angel was a winged emotional disaster, and Severn loved him for it.
