The Angel silently watched as the woman before him began to... cry? He lowered the gun slightly, and cocked one of his brows, staring at Faye's face. The sun, which had almost suddenly appeared moments before, as if mockingly, he noted bitterly, made the tears that were welling up in her eyes visible to him, though barely. He more noticed that she needed to blink rapidly because her vision was probably getting blurry, and when someone is pointing a gun at you, he thought, you really want to make sure you can see them. He watched her clench her fists, and he thought that he noticed them shake just slightly, but only very slightly.

Rosiel still did not want to completely lower the gun. The sensation of fear contiously tugged at him, though he couldn't recognize what it was from yet. His face relaxed, and he took a step foreward, still holding the handgun before him, although his finger was not pressing against the trigger so tensely. She took a gulp of air, and finally the tears came down, properly sliding down her cheeks. Faye seemed to be trying to regain her composure, and apparently, when she felt that she had enough, she spoke to him.

"Rosiel... I am sorry that you are that you are having this reaction. I know that this must be altogether strange to you, but I assure you that you are safe here. Never has coming here caused any being a problem, neither should it for you. But perhaps I miscalculated... You are an Angel, and I have never met an Angel before you..."

Her voice was soft, and that somehow came as a surprise to him. Rosiel was expecting her to perhaps shout at him, or to start screaming, but she didn't. Instead, her voice was full of some kind of sadness. And fear. He couldn't deny that he heard the unmistakable waver of fear. Well, of course she's scared of you, idiot, he thought. You're pointing an instrument of speeding death at her forehead,

Forehead. She kissed my forehead.

of course she'll be fucking scared of you.

No.

That was wrong. It wasn't his gun that she was staring at. It was him. Faye did not speak, nor did she move. She stood, intertly, with her hands folded before her, reminding Rosiel of the way a rabbit would fold its' paws when it stood on its' hind-legs, looking around for food. The image would have caused him to laugh if it hadn't been for the way she was fixed at him. He didn't like it, and it was begining to scare him more.

The Angel was not new to such a look. He'd seen it many times, though it usually didn't have the accompanying sadness that was so clear in Faye's expression, except for the time that saw-

no not thinking about that no stoppit stop i don't want to remember stop

He shut his eyes and clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together, slightly. Suddenly, he thought that sun was too bright, as multicolored diamonds danced in the blackness of his vision, and his throat was extremely dry. He wanted something to drink, and the sound of the waves crashing just behind Faye made his thirst even more intense. When Rosiel opened his eyes, he forced himself to forcus on the woman, still not lowering his gun. He was now holding it in one hand, his finger just gently brushing the trigger finger, though his hand had been clenched around the weapon in a death-grip just moments ago, and he held it half-heartedly.

Faye seemed to be very troubled. Her facial expression, too, had softened, and Rosiel knew that it wasn't a trick of the sun; that fear which was the fear of him had gone away, and all that was left was that terrible, aching sadness. He couldn't stand it. The Angel didn't like it when any creature in his presence was in such anguish, much less someone who he liked emensely.

Wait a second, said a voice in his head. You were going to blow her head off before, because you weren't even sure that it was her, and now that she's leaking a few tears, you've suddenly let your guard down? You're going soft, Angel Lord. The voice sounded vaguely amused, but Rosiel chose to ignore it. The voice that spoke would speak again, later, no doubt, but right now it had decided to take Rosiel's disregard correctly and wisely shut up.

He continued to watch her, his hands now begining to tremble. A small, loose pin on his gun repeatedly hit against the metal of the gun, creating a clacking sound which resembled chattering teeth. He thought that Faye would notice his gun waving and tightened his grip in an attempt to hold it steadily. She was still silent, though a sudden shudder startled him. Rosiel took another step forward so that he could get a closer look at her.

She was breathing in and out rapidly, vainly trying to blink away the tears which now coming in full-force. The Angel was very confused; he couldn't understand why he was making her cry, why he was making her so sad. What have I done wrong, he wondered. Faye slowly regained some of her former composure, and stood as she did before.

Faye was waiting.

And he then knew that it was Faye, and not some kind of illusion. At least, not the kind that wanted to hurt him. She had a determined expression on her face, one that quite plainly stated, I'm sick of running. Rosiel wasn't sure what it was that she was sick of running from, but he supposed it would be explained to him in due time. He lowered the handgun, removed his finger from the trigger, clicked on the safety mechanism, and reholstered it.

The Angel then slowly made his way toward Faye. He remembered the previous look of pain on her face and broke into a run. He dashed up to her rather quickly and slipped both of his arms under hers and around her back, pulling her into a hug. He rested his head against her shoulder and smelled the distant smell of some kind of flower. A muffled sort-of-sweet smell that wasn't violent enough to strike him as vulgar and make him want to turn away. He liked it.

Rosiel felt the urge to kiss her, but he didn't think it was a wise thing to do, so he simply stood there, as he was. Faye didn't seem to move. Perhaps she was still angry at him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, not knowing what to say. "I'm sorry, you scared me. This place scared me. I've never been pulled away like that. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to scare you. I'm so, so sorry. I was stupid."

Yes, the voice agreed. You are an idiot.

He stood now, holding her in a hug, and awaiting her reaction.