~~Young~~

Chapter Twenty Three

   “Oh,” Sera said slowly, “o…kay, I think,” she frowned and gave Gage a quick glance before agreeing to Death’s request, “What kind of clothes should I…think?” she asked her.

   “I’m partial to Armani’s spring line but whatever you want,” she shrugged.

   She nodded and took a deep breath, her eyes focused inside her for a moment and then…

   Gage laughed at what appeared, “hey, that’s my shirt!”

   It was the one he had been wearing on the train-more and more he was seeing the significance of that chance encounter. It was the grey shirt with the raven shadowed over the shoulder, with a sizable gap in the back of course to make room for her wings.

   And nothing else.

   Yes he was in love.

   And those were truly the most beautiful set of wings he had ever seen. Edged in a brown he knew those to be because of her acts in life. Though it wasn’t everyday God would mark his angels so obviously of their discretions, he felt somehow…proud to see them there. They blended into her white feathers from what he could tell; leaving her looking almost spotted till the white took over in full. It was…adorable, like a spotted puppy would be.

   Her expression turned bashful, “I know, but…” she hitched a shoulder, “it’s just a perception right?”

   “Aww, you two are just so damn cute,” Death giggled before turning to Gage, “come on big boy, you too. Nobody needs to see how you really feel about Sera right now.”

   Gage looked down- and groaned- at his erection.

   “Not my fault she’s so sexy,” he grumbled and wandered over to the bed, pulling off the sheet and wrapping it around him.

   Death cleared her throat.

   “Sorry Death,” he turned to her, “you’re a close second, but nothing beats Sera’s body,” he looked to her with a sigh and she smiled, her face turning red before she dropped it to the floor. He was really going to miss that flush.

   “Trust me, I’m not insulted but that’s not what I meant,” she waved a hand in the air, “I was talking about you and clothes. Togas are so last millennia.”

   “Death I can’t make clothes like you,” he said slowly, “you above all others know this. You stole my garb once in the thirteenth century after we… ah…ahem,” it was Gage’s turn to blush as he cleared his throat, “it was just after that raid on Paris? If I was mortal I would have been left running bare ass through the streets.”

   She thought about that for a second before a pout appeared on her face, “that’s right. Too bad because you ruined my fun by just flashing back to hell and getting something to wear,” she griped, “but that was then aaaand this is now.”

   Gage shook his head, “I don’t get it.”

   Death’s gaze snapped to God and where he was still holding up the wall. Gage could have forgotten he was there for all it mattered, and by the look on God’s face it didn’t seem like he was too thrilled to be there anyway. Yet there he was…

   “You didn’t tell him yet?” she barked at him.

   He shrugged, “figured after he swung at me he could figure it out for himself.”

   “You swung at him?” She looked back to Gage, before moving on to Sera, “is that why he’s bleeding?” she nodded and Death pursed her lips, turning to Gage in irritation, “and you didn’t figure it out then?”