SEATTLE

6-Family

So I still need some cast ideas! And even I don't know who Phoenix is going to end up with at this point, so let me know who YOU want to be her man!

-----

Seattle 6

Family

When I woke again, the room was filled with the grey light of dawn. Mihael was settled back in an armchair in the corner of the room, watching me calmly. His concern was portrayed only by his eyes. His haughty attitude in my dream came back; I wondered if he could ever have been that person.

Looking at him now, I didn't care. He looked calm and intelligent, sitting back with his brow furrowed in concern. A dark blue t-shirt with a large white logo was stretched across his muscular chest and wide shoulders. His hair, turned dark by the light, lay scattered across his shoulders. He played absentmindedly with the silver band on his thumb.

"Morning, Sleepy," he teased.

I groaned, chucked a pillow at his head, and rolled over. I hoped it messed up his perfect hair.

"Hey now, that's just rude," he complained, "After I've been watching over you for the last three nights?"

My eyes flew open. "What!?" I shrieked at the boring grey wall.

Mihael looked solemn again as I turned back to him. "You've been out for two days and three nights now. At first you had a fever or something, but that broke last night during Sora and Drake's watch."

I stared at him, trying to comprehend. "I...I wasn't sick," I managed finally. I blushed at the realization of how stupid I sounded.

He laughed, prompting me to glare at him. I sighed, rolling over and sitting. All that accomplished, however, was to get me tangled up in the sheet, pulling me off the bed to land face first in the floor. My eyes squeezed shut against the pain of my nose being pressed flat against the carpet. I let the rest of my body go limp.

"Ow," I complained.

Mihael burst out laughing again.

An hour later, I was finally ready to face the day. Straightening the white tank top Ahli had brought me, I headed down the stairs and into the kitchen. Sora, Drake, and Enrique sat around the table, pushing untouched food around on their plates. Mihael, standing at the fridge, was possessed by another fit of giggles and had to leave the room. Glaring at his retreating figure, I slid into the empty chair next to Sora.

"Phoenix? Are you okay?" Sora asked childishly. Concern filled his pale green eyes.

I flashed him a reassuring smile, forcing myself not to stare at the green fedora hiding his feline features. "I'm fine," I insisted, "just had some crazy dreams."

"About angels and demons?" Drake asked with forced levity. Our eyes, dead serious, met over his bowl of soggy cornflakes.

"Something like that," I responded tonelessly.

Enrique looked back and forth between us. His expression was becoming increasingly aggravated. "Just tell her," he grumbled finally, engaging in a staring contest with the slice of cold toast on his plate.

Drake hesitated, looking uncertain. Finally, after a long moment, he took a deep breath, as if to steady himself. He glanced at me, then away. "I'm a...a fallen angel," he admitted, "but I guess you already knew that?"

His eyes searched mine hopefully, looking for belief. My brain was still trying to process the information. When one spends most of eighteen years wishing myths were real but under the impression that they are not, it's hard to come to terms with something like this. The images of waking up last night flitted through my mind again.