You searched for him for hours. You scoured the lake and its surroundings desperately, hoping you would stumble across him. At first, you went looking for him on your own, thinking naively he would not have gone far but after many unsuccessful tries you had decided to go ask the others for help. You told them briefly what had happened and Peter left as soon as you had finished talking to look for him. He came back a few seconds afterwards, unsuccessful. Panic and confusion washed over you and you started to sob. You did not even know why, it was just too much to handle. Warren and you had been so close and you had so much hope for you two that it just felt like something was ripped away from you without apparent reason. Ororo took you in her arms, brushing your back and letting you cry on her shoulder while Jean searched for Warren's thoughts. You would replay the scene in your head over and over again but none of it made sense. Feeling Kurt patting your shoulder gently, you raised your head and saw Jean shake her head, sorry.

You waited an hour, sitting next to the lake, hoping he would reappear. Your eyes were sore and red, your hair a mess and your mind totally unable to give you some sort of answer for his sudden departure. Peter had left to check the surroundings and when he came back, empty-handed, everybody decided that you should all go back to the school. Warren would not come back here, in fact he might have went to the school instead.

This thought gave you hope and you grabbed Kurt's arm, begging him to teleport you there. As soon as you arrived, you ran toward his room eagerly. The small part of hope you had grew considerably when you found his swimming trunks on the floor of his bedroom, next to his open wardrobe. He had come back to the school to change, so he might still be here. You ran toward the roof: it was the only possible place he could be in, the only place peaceful enough for him to be truly himself. All your hope vanished when you realized the roof was empty: he was not there and there was no sign of him even coming up during the time he had come back to change. You thought about searching the other rooms but it felt pointless. Instead, you went into the garden and wait for Scott, Jean, Ororo and Peter to arrive.

You did not even have to ask Jean to search for Warren's thoughts; she did it as soon as she saw you. She searched for a long time, looking into the mind of every students but he was not here. You did not think you could have felt more depressed but you did. You were overcome with sadness and concern.

Where did he go? What was he doing? Was he okay?

Going to the Professor X to ask for his help crossed your mind. He had the Cerebro, he could find him but Jean and Ororo convinced you not too. Warren would come back; you just had to give him some time.

---

Sitting on an armchair in the living room, your eyes did not leave the window for the entire evening. You were hoping to catch a glimpse of Warren's metallic wings, hoping to see him reappear and tell you everything was okay. Hoping everything would go back to normal. But you were also afraid that as soon as you would see him again, everything would change. Warren was not easy to approach, and even less to apprehend. You did not know much about him, he was like Peter: surrounding himself with barriers and not letting a lot of people in. Every time he would open to you, something underneath would stay hidden. Harassed by those thoughts, the evening stretched out for hours. When finally, the sun set out, and the sky became so dark you could not see anything except for the stars and the moon, you decided to go to your room. Lying down in your bed, you tried to fall asleep but you did not succeed for many hours.

---

Everything was black when you opened your eyes again and you gasped when you felt something on your shoulder. You heard Jean's voice and relaxed. A quick look at your alarm clock informed you it was three a.m. You deduced you must have fallen asleep at some point. Not fully awake, you sat on your bed, rubbing your eyes. Jean sat next to you and gave you a small white suitcase. You frowned, not understanding.

"He's on the roof." She whispered, trying not to wake Ororo. "You should go see him."

She did not have to say a name. Warren was back. You practically jumped out of your bed and ran to the stairs, fully awake. You reached the door leading to the roof and stopped, breathless. What if he did not want to see you? Your hands shook at this thought. You took a deep breath, trying to find the nerve to step outside, and felt the hard handle of the suitcase in your hand. You had forgotten you were carrying it and realized you had no idea what it was and why Jean had given it to you. Lowering your eyes on it, white letters appeared: First aid kit.

Without a second thought, you opened the door and stepped on the roof. If Warren was hurt, you could not stay idling.

The air outside was cold and goose bumps appeared on your skin. Only the moon was lighting the roof and you stumbled many times. You cross a good portion of the roof before finding him, hidden under the alcove. You stepped toward him carefully, not sure of his reaction. It was incredibly hard: all you wanted to do was run toward him and take him in your arms, run your hands through his hair, snuggle against him, kiss him.

But you kept walking. He did not look at you. He was sitting on the ground, drinking straight from the bottle of whisky he had in his hand. You examined him carefully and realized that, except for his hand, he did not seem injured. It was a relief. You had been afraid his anger had led him to get hurt.

Crossing the last meters separating you from him, you sat next to his hips so that you could face him. He was ignoring you and drinking from the almost empty bottle. You did not know what to say. You gulped when you noticed how hard he was avoiding your gaze. His face showed nothing though. Lowering your eyes, you glimpsed his hand, resting next to him and take it in yours. She was badly injured. You could see bruises hidden under the dry blood while you put it on your thigh. You opened the first aid kit in a sharp noise and got tweezers, disinfectant and bandages out. You had never done that before and your hands were shaking lightly. Using a pocket flashlight, you looked for splinters of wood on Warren's hand. You found two that you removed carefully with the tweezers. Warren was not moving anymore. You could not tell if he was looking at you because it was too dark and you did not have the nerve to look at him. You disinfected his wound and put the flashlight, tweezers and disinfectant back into the kit. Your hands were not shaking anymore when you started to bandage him which allowed you to work quickly. At some point, you tightened the bandage around his hand which made Warren groaned faintly in pain. It was the first sound you heard him made since you had joined him so you raised your head to look at him. Your movement caught his attention and your eyes lock. His expression was sad and apprehensive. You smiled at him warmly, hoping to get the sadness out of his eyes and internally concerned about why he was feeling that way. The bandage loosening a little in your hand, you focused back on your work. You were not expecting him to say anything but he did. He whispered, but in the silent night, his voice was clear and loud:

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" You asked him, finishing the bandage carefully before looking back at him. He was frowning.

"Patching me up. It's the middle of the night, why are you here?"

His mouth was asking something but his eyes were asking something entirely different. Something he did not feel like saying out loud, something he might not want to hear the answer to. Something that sounded a lot like 'why do you have feelings for me' to you.

"I care about you. I'm not going to leave you alone when you need me." You answered frankly, still holding his hand in yours.

He shook his head and drank again, finishing his bottle of alcohol. He did not want to believe you.

"You could find so much better." He muttered after a short silence. "I didn't want to admit it but this guy was right, I'm a freak." He stated, looking straight into your eyes.

"That's not true, you know it."

"It is. Think about it. I could never go back into the real world, with humans, and act normal like everybody else. People would always stare at me the way he did because of my wings. But you, you can. You can fit in their society." He lowered his eyes on his bandaged hand which was resting on your thigh. "I can't hold you back."

You squeezed it softly, trying not to hurt him. "I don't care what they think. You and I, we are the same. If you're a freak then so I am."

"I can't let you say that."

"Then don't say it about yourself. You're more than what people lead you to think, Warren. You may be a mutant with wings but you're also a nice, funny, charming and good person. And if they can't accept you, they don't deserve to know you."

He snickered. "I'm not a good person."

"What makes you say that?"

He remained silent, staring at the bottle in his hand. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.

"This afternoon... The way I behaved... It was the real me. I thought it was over, I thought I had changed but I was wrong. I didn't want you to see me like that but that's who I am: the same pathetic mutant that is always filled with anger. Anger against humans. And mutants too." He paused to think. He was gripping the bottle so hard in his hand you were afraid he might shatter it. "When I was fighting in Germany, I thought I finally belonged somewhere. My wings were finally of use to me. And people were cheering me, I enjoyed it. It made me feel like I was finally accepted for who I was. I still hated them; all of them, for keeping me prisoner but deep down, I know I wasn't entirely unhappy there. And then, Apocalypse found me. One of my wings was badly burnt, I thought I was over. I had learnt to love them, they had kept me alive in those fights but without them, I felt like I was nothing. Not entirely mutant and definitely not human. But he came and he gave me what I needed the most at this time: better wings, strength and confidence. And I loved him for that; I would have done everything for him. And I did. That's why I'm not a good person. That's why I shouldn't be in this school: I'm too dangerous." He confessed, his eyes avoiding yours.

You did not answer for a few seconds, processing what he had told you. You knew, without a doubt, that he would never have told you any of this without the help of alcohol. It was probably one of his deepest secret and its greatest shame. But there was nothing in his words that made you feel less for him.

"You're not the same person anymore, Warren. And you're not more dangerous than any of us. Scott could kill us all just by looking at us. And I, I can't control my power; look at what I've done to you earlier. And it's the same for each and every one of us. We're all dangerous, that's why we here."

He looked at you, relief lightning up his face. The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips. "And you wonder why I call you angel. I may have wings but I'm no way near being one. But you, you are one, an angel. I always knew it but with every word you utter it just getting more and more obvious."

His eyes filled with love and tenderness made you blush. You tilted your head slightly and Warren brought his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb against your jaw. You had not realized you had moved closer to him until now. Your eyes looking down at his soft lips, you muttered:

"I'm far from an angel."

"You are to me."

He had uttered those words with such burning passion and adoration it took your breath away. Your heart beating rapidly in your chest, you struggled to find an answer. You did not know what to say, and you did not say anything because Warren's lips came crashing on yours in the most unexpected and sudden kiss you ever had. It did not take you long to respond to his passionate kiss. Closing your eyes, you wrapped your arms around his neck, closing the space between your two bodies. You felt his palm leave your cheek to grab your waist with his two hands. He raised you up, making your lips pull apart from each other, and set you down on his lap. He groaned faintly against your lips, sending shivers down your spine before kissing you back harder, a hand stroking your hair. His other hand wrapped around your waist tightly, afraid to let go of you. It was, by far, the most passionate kiss you had ever experienced. You could hear your heart pounding in your chest as his lips were hungrily kissing yours, as if he needed to make up for all the time he had lost restraining himself.

It did not take you long to feel breathless. You let yourself enjoy the moment for a few more seconds, feeling his warm lips on yours, before moving your hand to his cheek and pulling apart from him delicately. Resting your forehead on his, you heard Warren sigh. You felt his hand falling from your hair to the small of your back, making it more difficult for you to catch your breath. You bit your bottom lip and almost kissed him again but the taste of whisky on yours lips made you reconsider.

When you had found him earlier he had been drinking. You only saw one bottle but who knew how much he had drunk before. You did not want to think about it but there was a chance he would not remember any of this tomorrow. Plus, his current mood was not exactly perfect: he had been sad and in need of comfort and you did not want to take advantage of him. If he really wanted it to happen again, then it would. And this time, he would be sober. So, when Warren moved forward to kiss you again, you dodged him, pulling him into a hug instead. He did not seem to mind as he immediately buried his face into your neck. Feeling his lips on your skin, you had trouble sticking up to your resolution of waiting to kiss him again. You needed something to take your mind off it. Raising your hand to his hair, you began to stroke it gently, knowing he loved the feeling of your fingers getting intertwined in his curls. He sighed in delight and his arms loosened around your waist as he was beginning to drift into sleep. You would have stayed like that forever but you were afraid of getting caught in this position by a teacher. Caressing his hair for a few more minutes, you finally found the strength to call his name, breaking the silence of the night. He did not answer. Feeling his calm and steady breathing on your skin, you assumed he must have fallen asleep. You moved slightly backwards, calling his name again, and heard him moan sleepily. You gently pushed him backwards, making him face you and he leaned on the wall behind him, keeping his eyes closed.

"Warren, we should get back to our rooms."

He did not answer, probably already falling back asleep. You tried to think of something to get him to get up but you assumed alcohol had probably something to do with his sudden fatigue. There was only one person that could get him back to his bed now and even if you were not sure it was a great idea, it was the only one you had. You get yourself ready to get up but Warren was holding you too tight. You vaguely heard him whisper to you not to leave. You did not want to but you could not stay on the roof forever.

"I won't be long." You promised him, kissing him on the cheek.

He released you, sighing, and you ran toward his bedroom. Entering it silently, you woke Kurt up and told him to follow you. He was the only that could bring Warren back to his bed so once you were in the corridor you asked him to teleport you on the roof. One second after, you saw Warren appearing in front of you. The noise had made him open his eyes and he frowned when he saw Kurt standing at your side. You felt Kurt hesitating at your side but you brought him next to Warren and asked him to get him back to their bedroom. Kurt nodded and placing one of his hand on Warren's shoulder, he teleported the three of you in the bedroom. With Kurt help, you laid Warren on his bed and he dozed off as soon he was on it. You thanked Kurt and left the room, suddenly very tired. All those emotions bubbling inside of you had worn you down. Still, you could still feel the warmth of Warren's lips on yours, making your heart skips a beat at the reminiscence of the event. You could not believe it had finally happened. Tomorrow would be different, it was sure. You were just hoping it would be in a good way.