this is how an [ a n g e l ] cries.

Ángel Fàbregas i Reus · 06-03-2012, 01:37 PM

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short :|

Word Count → 000

It was one of the rare days that reminded him of home. Albeit one of the colder days in the Catalan capital, but it was easy to believe it was an autumn day when a chill rang through the narrow streets. His muscled optime form lay on the edge of Folly lake, finding it a perfect place to soak up the rays. His cowl lay close by, he'd had it under his head as a pillow a few moments before but he'd gotten a strain in his neck and therefore removed it. Angel had given thought to hunting after his rest, or perhaps a swim, but he was interrupted before he could plan any further.

A body moved quick past him and into the water, sending splashes of water over him. His nose twitched involuntary as the smell of heat hit him. Swallowing deeply, trying to keep himself calm and civil, he smiled and spoke in his heavy Catalan accent. 'Emmanuelle... Enjoying this fine day are we, senyoreta?' He leant up an stood with a sense of stiffness in his sleepy joints. The Spaniard slipped in the water beside her, taking off his two necklaces before dipping in up to his shoulders and then his whole head momentarily before lifting his head and letting dark tendrils of hair fall over his face.

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