ALWAYS

"You were you,

and I was I;

we were two,

before our time.

I was yours,

before I knew;

and you have always

been mine too."

My mother has visited me several times, and my father seems to have moved on already. Despite what happened, my father is still the King of Heavens and hasn't been demoted. Somewhat I'm thankful. I know my father generally likes to help mortals and the angels, and it's his life basically, so I know being stripped off of his title will have a great impact on him. I feel guilty for putting him in such scenario, but at the same time, it feels great that to have him knocked some sense into him. It was quite difficult dealing with him, and I know my boyfriend of a demon has realized that already. Still he put up a good fight, one that I wish I had seen.

"Do you know what this means for us?" I ask him as I play strands up his hair, curling it around my index finger, his head resting on my thigh. His eyes – that always give me this tingling sensation that always runs through my spine – meet mine and I know he has the same question. After all, we haven't heard of anyone being a demon-angel hybrid.

Slate rolls over on his stomach on the couch we were sitting on, the sun of light glinting across his majestic face – the face that I have always dearly admired and loved, and he rests his chin on his palm, his eyes not once breaking contact with mine. He merely shrugs before his index finger from his free hand draws soothing circles on my thigh where his head was previously resting. His luscious lips are set in a thin line, but there's no hint of anger and any sort of negative emotions on his face. From what it seems like, he's been thinking. I lean down and pecks his lips just because I feel like it, and it doesn't really disappoint me when he starts to move his lips with mine, getting in sync as if they have memorized the dance choreography well. He lets go of his arm that's supporting his chin, stretches it out towards me and around my neck. He rests his palm at the back of my head, his fingers playing with the nape. His hand is warm, seeping through my skin and I feel myself getting excited over minimal gestures he's doing to me.

Only Slate can give me this excitement, this feeling, and no one else.

He makes me feel all sorts of emotions there are, and I'm not going to complain. I thought I was really living a life in heaven, but when I met him and started being closer to him, I realized what heaven really feels like. I wouldn't give this up for anything, not to and for a single thing and I know that Slate wouldn't, too. This unit, in Brooklyn, is our sanctuary. He is my home, and I am his.

His tongue darts out, teasing my bottom lip, hoping to get some entrance and I oblige, parting my lips a little and he slips his tongue in. His tongue explores my mouth like he hasn't explored yet, and the feeling for me is like it's the first time. His free hand massages my chest, touching almost everywhere and honestly, I can't get enough of it. There's this sudden urge to be closer to him physically and spiritually. The burning passion, I can feel it through the kiss. The way he caresses my skin as if it's the most prized position he has ever held. His hands retreat only for his arms to freely wrap around my waist, pulling me closer gently, as if I could break easily. His head is slightly tipped due to the position he's in, and it doesn't hinder him from deepening the kiss and putting his tongue deeper into my mouth. I groan loudly, feeling his taut muscles against my fingers. My fingers trace his collarbone and neck and it feels so soft against my touch.

Once he's done exploring my mouth, he gently pulls away, much to my chagrin, and his eyes swarm with emotion I often see. This makes me feel so confident that he and I really belong together, and nothing can break us apart. And to anyone who dares to do so, they have a death wish.

"I don't care what this means for us, with the whole angel-demon ordeal thing," he says, his voice a bit higher but steady. "But if it means I'm with you throughout, then that's all I care about."

"You have such good way with words," I tease, flicking his nose and he grins, raising his brows up and down and I roll my eyes in a playful manner. "You really are something else."

Grinning, he comments, "I know. That's why you fell for me." Then he winks.

Not the one to deny it, I tell him honestly, "True that."

The whole day is spent on cuddles and deciding which is the best scenery in Brooklyn. I lament that Brooklyn is great and majestic in the day as the rising sun shines over the city, giving it a view of how beautiful it is, but I can't deny the fact that Brooklyn at night is as awesome view, too. Meanwhile, my boyfriend prefers to see Brooklyn at night as it's perfect the way he always imagines, and the fact that he has lived, basically, his entire life here makes it even more perfect and homey to him. And now, it's my home, too. We've had breakfast, lunch, and dinner together and we even settle for a midnight snack. No one is really willing to sleep just yet, and prefers to stay up all night, just listening to each other's beating heart and calm breathing. It feels like I'm holding a piece of him that I can't share with everyone, and same goes with him.

My back is resting against his bare chest, and I'm settled between his legs, holding a cup of hot chocolate he just made a few minutes ago as I wanted to a hot drink that can put my stomach at ease. The city is in full swing and it's like the people never really sleep. The streets are still littered with people scattered around, and almost every roads are occupied with cars and motorbikes.

There's an eerie silence lingering between us, but it's never awkward. We just like each other's company, and as weird as it sounds, I like hearing the small puff of breath he lets out – it's music to my ears. His chest is heaving up and down gently, contracting against my back, and I can practically feel the soft beat of his heart, while my heart is racing like it's participating in a running marathon. Slate rests his chin on my shoulder and curls his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. Hi nibbles on the lobe of my ear, and his stubble lightly graze my skin and I let out a giggle.

There are times where I wish time would just stop for a moment, to let me live in forever, where you don't have to worry that your happiness will eventually come to an end, even just for a while. This is one of those times. I wish I could have this moment with him always, if the time would not still. But knowing we can't guarantee it due to the situation we are in, it sort of hurts. But we know we'll do whatever it takes to just have a moment to be free; to feel like we've loved for the first time again; to know the raw emotion the first time we saw each other.

As the images replay inside my head, a small smile graces my lips and I can't believe how we've come so far. We definitely made a lot of mess, either inside the bedroom or outside our world. Whatever obstacles that will come, or whoever it is – whether it's a single entity or an army, Slate and I will face it together.

"You are the angel of love," he whispers, his lips hovering across my sensitive neck. "You had trouble realizing your role and your potential. What was the reason?"

I remain silent, not because I don't know the answer, but because I've been asked the same question by my parents and before, I had no idea what the answer was. It's true that when an angel has been assigned a role, they would immediately realize their potential and how they should act and do things, but I was a late bloomer. I was confused, too. I had so many questions, questions that were never answered, not until I realized what it was really like to love.

Sometimes, you have to feel the rawness of the emotion, the feeling, in order to understand. And it's because of Slate.

"I really didn't know how to love," I admit honestly to him, my voice cracking a bit. He tightens his hold around me and gives my hands a light squeeze. "Not until I met you. You are my love."

"You have such good way with words," he teases, repeating what I said earlier. He leans down and kisses me lightly on my cheek, which makes me blush. He always makes me blush. There were a few times where I made him blush, but that's only on certain occasions. I always want to see his cheeks reddening. It always makes its way into my heart. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

My boyfriend and I are together, strolling in the park. Slate has a grey scarf wrapped around his neck, put on by me as he said earlier that he was feeling cold – and as much as he hated it, he let me put it. Even though the sun is up, the gush of wind is really cold. It clings into my skin, making my hairs stand up. But still, I like the feeling. And Slate hates it. Maybe he has gotten used to the temperature in hell?

As we pass people by, who by the way give us curious looks as if it's their first time seeing two men holding each other's hands, something catches my eyes near the trees. It's a ray of white light, and I immediately know there's something in there. It seems like Slate has caught it as well as he stares at me, nodding his head in the direction and we both head into the group of trees where the sun can't pass through, but still we can see the way.

"We're here." I say and my voice echoes several times before a figure with white wings get out behind the tree, making an appearance and I immediately recognize the physique, the face, and the grin on his lips. "Leandre?"

"At your service," he says as he walks towards our direction.

"What are you doing here?" I ask him as he greets Slate and Slate just groans. That's his way of greeting my childhood and best friend. "How did you know we're here?"

"Eh, it's not really that hard." Leandre says as he scratches the back of his neck, looking awkward all of a sudden. "Anyway, I contacted you because there's something you need to know."

"Is it a bad or good?" Slate asks, his voice gruff and manly. Knowing him, he probably doesn't like his presence here. In his eyes, he knows the angels are enemies of him and he probably doesn't trust him.

Leandre shakes his head, shrugging. "We don't know. We were hoping you could tell us, knowing that it's about you two. I can't tell you here. It has to be Nigel."

"Nigel?" I rack my brain for a man named Nigel.

"Um, he's a human," my best friend says awkwardly. "But he's just recently became the first Guardian of the Mortals. I know, weird, huh? But it doesn't matter. He has seen something about you two and ever since then, he's been having trouble sleeping."

"What could it be?"

"We'd know if we get there."

"Lead the way." My boyfriend says.

The trip isn't even that long. Leandre leads the way. We use the easiest way to get there – by using our wings. Slate gives my hand a squeeze, assuring me that everything's going to be alright. As the wind passes by us, his fair flies messily in his face, making me laugh. I see him grinning as he fixes his hair, brushing it to the back. Leandre looks over his shoulder and a smile tugs on his lips, and right there and there, even know he knows that Slate doesn't completely trusts him, he trusts Slate, and he approves of him for me. Not that I care if he doesn't.

It just takes half an hour before we reach our destination and from afar, I can already see the big territory of the werewolves. We have been here before, and I'm glad that they took care of us. They didn't judge Slate for being a demon. And I know it's all because of Leandre.

Once our feet touch the ground, our presence has been known and all the pack warriors move forward and give us a salute. The pack leader, or the Alpha, comes forward with a look etched on his face. He offers his hand and I shake it. I elbow my boyfriend and he groans, taking the Alpha's hand and giving it a firm handshake. While I know my boyfriend is really strong, the Alpha seems like he could tear my boyfriend to pieces. Still, Slate puts on his mean face and lets the Alpha know that he's not scared to fight him.

"Sorry for the short notice," the Alpha says as he looks at us. There are people behind them, all of them I recognize but can't remember the names. "But I'd like to thank you for coming here."

"You're welcome," I say out of instinct and my boyfriend arches his brow at me. I mouth what and he shrugs. "It must be really urgent. Leandre didn't really tell us the details but..."

Slate holds my hand again. I look at our entwined hands and a smile creeps up on my lips, glad that I'm not here alone. Whatever is the news, we can deal with it together.

"Kieran, could you please get everyone in the hall?" he nods at the man behind him and the guy obliges, scurrying away. "Please follow me so we can get started."

The Alpha leads the way, his back on us. Everyone's eyes follow us and I feel uncomfortable. But then again, they have seen what happened here before, when the last time we were here. They saw Slate in his demon form. But in their eyes there's no look of judgement; there's no emotion etched on their face. Another man goes on to the Alpha's side and they talk with their voices low. I hear him say his name, Perry, and the man runs towards the hall that is coming into view.

Once we're inside the hall, there's a big mahogany roundtable in the center and there are several wooden chairs around it. There are only two doors in the room; there's a door on the left side that leads to another room, and the other one where we just used to enter here. There are several antiques placed on each shelf and mini tables, and from the looks of it, it must have been that really old.

The Alpha motions us to take a seat and so we do.

Ten men, including Leandre, his mate who I really recognize and his name as Damien, and Kieran enter the room and each of them gives us a nod of acknowledgement and they all occupy the available seats, which are a lot. Kieran takes the Alpha's hand and they both share a smile and I instantly remember they are mates, as what Leandre has told me.

A guy with a dark brown hair, disheveled as if he is troubled, and a pair of brown eyes, which are tired and droopy, moves forward. He's scared, his hands trembling a little, and it seems like his legs are about to give up. He must be the human. The first Guardian of the Mortals. I feel bad for the guy suddenly. Poor him. Another man steps in to comfort the guy, gives him a peck on the forehead, and whispers soothing words in his ear. The guy immediately calms down. He takes a deep breath and moves forward, the Alpha stepping back a bit. We all look at him.

"Okay, I'm Nigel. In case you want to know my name." he begins. There are beads of sweat trickling down forehead, and his voice wavers a bit. "I encountered someone in my dream. I don't know if... it felt real. He was a guy with wings, black and white."

That sparks Slate's attention. He puts his arms on the table and observes Nigel.

"He mentioned about two entities – one angel and one demon, being a hybrid." He continues, his voice unsteady. The guy who comforted him just a minute ago holds his hand and they share a smile. "Leandre told us about you guys being that hybrid, that's why he brought you here immediately."

"What about it? What did he say about us being a hybrid?" I ask him, my hands getting clammy as my eyes meet his.

"He said there was – ugh," his eyes glow green and a fog suddenly appears, surrounding us.

The fog is so thick I can't even see who's beside me. Everyone is yelling now, asking if anyone is hurt or alright. After a few seconds, we hear each other's voice and once I hear Slate's voice, I calm down. I raise my hands in the hair, trying my luck to hold him. A hand reaches out to me – I have known this hand for so long I remember what it feels like to my skin. Slate pulls me into a hug and I wrap my arms around him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

The fog begins to subside. Everyone is almost in the same position as they were earlier, only a little freaked out. As soon as everyone calms down, we notice that everyone is here except Nigel. Instead, there's a new guy standing in front of us all that wasn't here earlier.

The man has a slicked black hair, a bit disheveled, and a striking pair of green eyes. His jawline is as sharp as a blade, and there's a stubble growing. He's wearing a white coat that covers his every part of his body. The man looks at us all before revealing a pair of black and white wings, just like what we have and my eyes widen upon seeing it.

"Forneus, Hadraniel," he nods at us. My mouth is agape, and my eyes are still wide from what I'm seeing. "Let me introduce myself. I am Abyzou, a once-demon who had become the first angel-demon hybrid."

"How do you know us?" Slate asks, his eyes glaring daggers at the man in front us.

Abyzou just merely shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "It doesn't matter how I know you. Both of you are living in hell and in heaven, at the same time. Chaos and order. I am long forgotten – the first King of Heaven and the first prince of Hell know had met me already. But I'm long forgotten. I know you have the same questions as I had before. But rest assured that I'll let you all know your true purpose.

"Something greater than evil is beginning to be reborn. And I'm not talking about the demons. Your purpose is to for the demons and angels to come together and join force, and no, not just you both, the Good Goddess' creation must go on alliance together."

Slate groans, rolling his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. "This evil you're talking about... I'm not sure about you but the demons would be delighted to hear that and I don't doubt that they'd like that evil to be reborn as soon as possible, so they can take over the world. So no, I'm not going to be a bridge between the demons and angels to help each other out."

Shaking his head, Abyzou says, "You don't understand."

"Yes, I don't understand."

Abyzou's eyes glow green and his palms spread open, and a visual entity, big and long-haired, eyes glowing black, stares at us. "She's the Goddess everyone is afraid of. Once she's reborn, once she rises, you will all perish – demons, angels, werewolves, pixies, mortals, rogues. Everything will be destroyed."

"Then why didn't you do it?" Slate snarls.

"Unfortunately, I was killed by the first Prince." He tells us. "I was telling him the same thing I'm telling you, but he didn't believe me. Instead he killed me and he made sure that I would be forgotten and would never live. If you want to save your world, I would suggest you don't be an ignorant fool right now and start taking actions."

"What about the Good Goddess?" I ask him hopefully.