280 Where are your wings? (R18)

"How did your talk with the soul go? Does she wish to have a formal meeting with me, yet?" Azrael asks inquisitively, fishing for idle banter, though I know that is certainly not what he is here for. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the set of draws in question- ordinary looking for the most part, save for the strange looking plant that is set on top. That is where the key is.

God knows how I am going to get it.

"Good," I answer, attempting to keep my voice as smooth as ever as I dismiss the anxiety that rumbles away in my gut. All I need to do is get through tonight- to deal passively with Azrael's advances and I can be wiped from this sin forever. As I forage for my already prepared answers to Azrael's questions, I am sure to keep reminding myself of this- if only to ground my sanity to something.

Leaning across the table with a flutter of my lashes, I add:

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