It feels like I'm falling deep into nothingness – I know I'm all alone. All alone while I fall down. I feel nothing, like my heart has lost its capability to feel anything, and my head from understanding what's really happening with me or around me. My eyes aren't wet – I'm not in tears. That's a good thing. My eyes are open, but I can't see anything. It's like I'm looking into a void, and the saddest part, I don't feel anything. There's no fear, there's no hope, nothing. I'm nothing.

My eyes are slowly closing – I guess it's much better than to endure seeing nothing. So I shut my eyes and feel like the world is slowly closing in on me. It's choking me, never giving me a chance to breathe. Tears pool in my eyes and I strongly prevent them from falling, but just like my state now, tears run down my cheeks. And I can't do anything about it.

"He's waking up," a deep voice rings in my ears. As soon as my head flashes the vivid images of what happened – our home being destroyed, my best friend showing up, the explosion, and Slate opening his wings wide just to protect me, my head starts to hurt. "His wounds have already been tended, and he's quickly healing. We just need to observe him for a while, and he needs a lot of rest."

A hand is placed on my head, and the person who did it reacts of how warm my forehead is. There's a few grunts from another man, and a sigh from another. I'm guessing there are four or five persons in the room, staring at me.

Slowly my eyes begin to open, and I'm blinded of the sunlight entering through the marbled glass window, sending splashes of different colors on the shiny wooden floor. For a moment I stare on the ground, eyes still adjusting, until a hand lands on my shoulder, making me look up.

I'm greeted with a worried face of Slate.

I've seen this face of Slate before. It takes a lot of his courage to let himself be this vulnerable – and that's just because of me being wounded. I know that I nearly died, as well as him and my friend, but I admit that in the moment that I thought I was dying while the explosion threw me off guard, I thought that it was probably for the better if I was going to just fade away. That stupid "he's a demon, and I'm an angel" thing was on my mind, messing me up and made me think that way. But you know what I just fucking realized – and yes, I just said "fucking" because I think that it's appropriate to use at this very moment, I realize that I'm scared of dying... but I'm more scared of losing Slate, my demon boyfriend. I'm so fucking in love that it terrifies me, but it's a good feeling. It's a feeling I don't want to lose. It's a feeling I always want to feel. It's a feeling I always want to remember. It's a feeling I want to always share with Slate.

Having said and realized that, tears pool in my eyes, and in seconds, they are already running down my cheeks. I don't care if a lot of people are seeing me at this state, so weak and so terrified, but I don't give a damn. Slate's pretty shocked when he sees me crying. So I throw my arms around his neck and cry on his shoulder, hiccupping as I tighten my hold on him. A few seconds, his arms circle around me, rubbing my back.

"I'm so fucking scared," I say as I sob uncontrollably. Tears won't stop flowing, and I think I never want for it to end. This is one of the rare times I get to pour my emotions out so I think I deserve this. I deserve this much.

"I know," my boyfriend says to me, and his arms tighten around me, as if he's scared that I'd be gone, that I'd fade away. Maybe he felt that fear when the explosion happened. I wonder what his reactions were like when he saw me receiving the blow, when I was nearly dying. Maybe I wouldn't be able to paint his reaction, and I wouldn't ever forget it. It would be buried inside my heart and head forever. "I was, too, and I still am. I wouldn't know what I would do if you died. I'm scared to lose you, my angel. I blamed myself for putting you in that situation. It was my fault. You could have died. I could have lost you. Forever. And I would spend the eternity blaming myself for it."

"It's not your fault," I say to him, leaning backwards and cupping his face in my hands, which is already streaked with his own tears. I never see him cry, and it's hurting me more than what I felt. "And if I died, it wouldn't be your fault either. You wouldn't lose me. You will never lose me, Slate. I will always be here."

"Don't you fucking say that, you don't get to decide what I would lose." He says angrily, staring at me with rage in his eyes. But the fear, the love, all the emotions are swimming in his beautiful eyes. "So no, you don't fucking say those things, got it? I love you so much, Adrian. You're my angel, and I can't afford to lose you. I can't imagine my future without you, the days without you, the moments without you. So how can you expect me to not blame myself if you died? I'm responsible for you. It's my job to protect you. Because I fucking swore I'd protect you no matter what. I'm so in love with you that I'm willing to let the Heaven purify my fucking soul. I'm so in love with you that I'm willing to risk everything. I'm so in love with you that all I want to do is to always make you happy. So you understand now? You fucking understand now how important you are to me?"

And then there he goes, on full-blown crying mode, which involves shaking shoulders and crying uncontrollably while his hands turn into a fist as if he just wants to smash the ground and let all his anger out. So I just hug him while my heart is swilling with happiness. I hug him with all my might, letting him know that I'll always be here.

Slate's hand reaches my arm and clings onto it as if his life depends on it. I kiss his forehead and close my eyes as I hear his heart-shattering cries. I look at the people around me. There's my best friend, standing a few feet away from us – his eyes are sad, and his posture tells his tired. There are other five men in the room I don't recognize. They are not angels. If they were, I would be able to tell them. They couldn't be humans either as I don't feel the mortal's aura around them. But then I could be wrong. I lost my powers so I really don't know if I'm right or wrong. But if Leandre is here with them, trusting them, letting me and the demon stay and tending our wounds, then they are allies. I hope I'm right. Because right now what we need is allies. I just smile at them.

An hour of crying nonstop, finally Slate is able to sleep on the bed beside me. The five men who were in the room were introduced to me and Slate. I don't exactly remember their faces, but I remember their names – Perry, Dave, Cloud, Kieran and Jacobe. They are werewolves apparently.

They are nice enough to care for us and that's all a big thanks to my best friend, Leandre.

"I'm not sure anymore if he's a demon," Leandre says as he observes Slate's sleeping figure. I don't know why, but I feel jealousy coursing towards me. He already has a boyfriend, though. A mate. That thing is important to werewolves. So I really don't have a valid reason to be jealous. "I mean, I saw him in his demon form while he did his best to protect you. He was... he was so powerful. He did his best to protect you. If it weren't for him, both of us would have been obliterated. I owe him my life, you know. Apparently the bomb that they used was not something a human could make. That object is a weapon developed by a powerful demon against the angels. I'm not sure what it is, but our lives are in real danger. But anyway, it's not time for you to think of that. There's a right time to discuss this. What you need right now is a lot of rest, according to Jacobe. So lucky you."

"Thank you," I say to him as I give him a smile.

He nods. "Tell your demon boyfriend, he earned my respect." He winks as he turns his back on me. "And oh, please do tell him that if he hurts you, I'd bury him alive in the Holy Land and that's where I'd forcefully purify his soul."

I laugh, shaking my head. "I will." And then he goes outside, leaving me and Slate alone.

I lie down beside him, looking at him. His lips are chapped and slightly apart, his breathing is steady. He looks so at peace, and he looks also so tried. I lean down and kiss him on the lips and he smiles then snores, which makes me giggle. "I'm making a promise, in the name of the Angel of Love, I promise that I'll marry you once this is done. And as an Angel of Love, I plan on making that happen." He groans and throws his hand around me, then continues to snore out loud. I shake my head and roll my eyes playfully, pushing myself closer into him as I inhale his scent. This is good.