Waiting For Your Return (Nigel)

The Angel of Death slowly approached the window and hesitantly placed his hand against the cold glass, his reflexion casting shadows over the wet bushes outside. The male, Nigel, looked no older than the age of fifteen, yet his eyes belonged to one who had seen many terrors and misfortunes. The bitter cold from the outside was nothing compared to his own touch, but as of this moment, he wished more than anything for the one he loved to come back home. His lover, Kreuz Nightlock, had always been there when he felt the bitter cold reach his heart, the only human being that could possibly ignite the flame within him.

But how much longer would he have to wait?

From Nigel's understanding, Kreuz was teaching his student. It was a role Kreuz had to fulfill in order for his student to reach his potential. But even from here, Nigel could feel a wave of doubt taking over him. From the beginning, Nigel was aware of how prone his lover was to dark habits. He knew all too well how unaware the Angel of Industry was to his feelings. You see, Nigel was never good at voicing what he felt, but... should he even be trusting Kreuz at this moment? Kreuz always had a habit of falling into the hands of desire and sin...

What if... 
   
                at this moment he was...

A frown tugged at his lips as he ran the thought through his mind, his heart aching against his chest. It was a familiar pain he had grown accustomed to after the death of Emily. So why? Why was it hurting so much this time around? Was his wall starting to crumble? Was he starting to break? Were his worries only tearing him apart from the inside?

With great effort, the Angel of Death brushed the thoughts away with a shake of the head before he pressed his forehead against the glass of the window, his dark eyebrows furrowed in concern and his breath fogging the glass heavily.

If anything, being with him was better than anything else. Even as the world was slowly collapsing around them, Nigel never felt so alive.

From the loneliness he had felt since the day he had to leave Emily, this was the only thing close to what he would call 'happiness'...  

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Nigel shyly brought his finger to the fogged proportion of the window. His finger slowly dipped here an there as he spelled the name he knew all too well, the very name that sent shivers down his spine whenever he uttered them.

Kreuz