They simply sit there for a time, comfortable with one another's presence, the calm of the early morning air almost enough to make it seem like this is normal. As if anything about this scene fall anywhere near the “hey it could happen” end of the scale. Kuro stops thinking of the impossibility of the situation for a time, just letting the morning be what it is, the peaceful sky and gentle breeze lending themselves to the illusion. Then, soft as could be, the spell is broken and once more it is a demon, and a fallen angel, sitting on a farm house roof, and once more it becomes a scene only some insane authors could come up with, on a particularly crazy day.

“No problem, Little Mouse. . .” he murmurs in response, letting his wing tuck in a little tighter as the breeze picks up for a few seconds. He too notices the subtle changes in the creature perched on the shingles next to him. The little bits here and there that distinguish him from other angels. The rough blisters gathering on his palms and fingers that the demon will have to tend to soon when they bust and become raw. The small cuts and bruises here and there from a combination of farm work and rough demon vs angel play. The slight tremble in his wings from being worked so hard as of late. [i]'Then of course, there is the color. I get the feeling it will stop darkening soon. After all, there still is some holy light in there, even if his grace has been ripped from him. Little gray winged angel. . .'[/i]

Despite liking the color Kuro has more than once been struck by light pains every once in a while when he notices the angel himself looking at them. It seems that every time he spots his wings directly, when he thinks no one is looking, a flash of painful memory crosses his face and for an instant, Kuro mourns. These faint moments in time almost shatter it all, almost move everything to a place where nothing is alright, where all of this is exposed for the lie it is. However, then. . . .Aoba will smile. [i]'That smile, that beautiful expression, that light filled face. A blinding light that stings my eyes, but at the same time inspires me. . .'[/i] The demon sighs softly, looking to the angel with a light smile of his own as he speaks again.

“Oh, I don't know. I think you've dome some things right. I mean, you're doing as ordered and living a mortal life. Mortals live every day with demons interfering with their lives, driving them one way or another while only those of stout heart keep themselves from being completely driven about by such evil forces, and if from what I've seen going on between you and my dear older brother is any indication then you are most definitely working independent from us at least a little bit.” He revels in the willing contact, running his fingers through the angel's hair as he adds, “And I think someone is watching. Watching and caring, and worrying every moment that they see you consorting with me and mine, and begrudgingly accepting that maybe I'm a little useful, for a demon.” He chuckles at this, knowing that he's simply blowing smoke at this point, but in an effort to keep the angel happy he's willing to give hope a chance.

~*~*~*~*~

The arch angel stares at the mirror, the papers in his hands falling to the ground with a faint fluttering sound as Fenrir wonders wildly if the demon could know he's looking. Quickly he covers the mirror, deciding to study up on spying on demons and what they can sense before looking at it again. In the midst of his frantic scooping up of papers though he pauses. [i]'I'm being ridiculous. Even if he can sense me, that's not a bad thing. He didn't sound like he minded, and if I suddenly stop he may tell Aoba and. . .'[/i] Placing the papers carefully back on the desk eh unwraps the mirror once more, the image clearing just time time to see the demon scooping up the little fallen angel gently and hopping carefully off the roof.

~*~*~*~*~

The feeling of Aoba falling fitfully asleep against him was enough to pull a wide smile out of the demon, but as he carefully makes his way inside the somewhat triumphant look softens for an instant before once more shifting into his almost permanent expression these days, confusion. Taking him through the front door as he didn't want to try and fit though the window while carrying his delicate parcel Kuro sighs softly and holds the little angel just the little bit closer. [i]'I don't understand all of this, but I hope I will, soon. . .I can't be stuck like this forever least it compromise me in my undertakings'[/i] The slightly hollow feeling every once in a while has given him pause as of late, and now that it's been quite for a while and attacks are sure to happen soon, the dark haired demon feels he needs to be one top of his game.

Placing his fragile package down in it's freshly made bed Kuro tucks Aoba in and almost as an experiment leans down and kisses the angel's forehead. The sensation is familiar, the warmth somewhere along his spine, but as he pulls back he realizes there is something else, something missing, and he'll be damned if he'd not determined to figure out what it is. Now wide awake he leaves the room slowly, closing the door silently, and makes his way to the back yard. Slipping into the tall grass he pulls out a few bits of roughly cut wood an continues working on his little project. He stops once the sun begins to peek, heading inside to start breakfast. [i]'Well, that's coming along nicely. I can't wait to see what it looks like when it's finished!'[/i] Making up some apple tarts mad from stolen apples he hums softly to himself, waiting for the other residents to show up for morning nibbles.