this is a baaaad psot ;-;
Word Count → 000
Brooding. That's how Angel spent the vast majority of his time now. Brooding and Praying. He could have handled the situation much, much better. And he could have apologised sooner. But in all honesty he would have had he found Emmanuelle sooner had she not disappeared from the face of the earth. The Catalan male had been worried almost constantly about her well being, and that of his children. When they camp had been ransacked, he'd gained a pair of crucifixes. Of course, he was aware that the possibility of more surviving was likely, but two was the most he could find.
That morning, it was rather hot. And Angel was busy cutting him thick mane with a knife. Not because of the heat, no, he was used to that of course. But because it was getting too long. He'd smelt Emma around, but it seemed she was avoiding him. Angel found himself upset by this, but let her keep her distance if she wished. But a crashing sound from down the hallway caused him to rush to his feet. Moving into the room there was a moment f silence from the male before he spoke. 'Emma. You're back. I... I've been looking for you... I thought you were gone...'
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