Steel

Chapter 19

Grey held open his front door for me and I gave him a quick smirk as I walked past him and inside the house. A wave of nostalgia quickly washed over me as I took it all in. Despite being quite literally destroyed by Lucifer a while back and us not being home for the better part of a year- it still looked the same. Grey sofas overlooked the floor to ceiling windows that spanned the left side of his house, overlooking the peninsula. To my right was the door that led down into the basement where Grey had trained me how to fight. Straight ahead was the kitchen, with its sleek grey marble countertops and stainless steel appliances. It looked untouched- exactly how we'd left it.

I felt a warm hand press against the small of my back and fought the shiver that fought to climb up my spine. "Welcome home, Greene," I felt his breath fan against the nape of my neck and my eyelids began to flutter shut.

"It looks untouched. Are you sure they stayed here?" I chuckled, glancing up over my shoulder at him. He clenched his jaw a little and I watched his cerulean blue eyes survey the room.

"They were here, but they didn't sleep here. They didn't really even come inside by the looks of it," he mumbled back, pressing his lips gently to the nape of my neck before releasing me and walking over to the kitchen. I watched him curiously as he opened and closed the drawers and cabinets, as if the Fallen had a thing for stealing dishes.

"What are you doing?" I hummed, walking over to the kitchen island countertop and sliding onto one of the barstools.

"Taking inventory," he grumbled.

"I knew it. You think they stole your dishes," I snickered and he glared at me playfully over his shoulder.

"Hey. They were handmade ceramics from Ireland. I love my dishes," he narrowed his eyes and I rolled mine.

"You're absurd," I chuckled, spinning around on the barstool to look out the windows. As per usual, grey clouds were rolling in from the Pacific, and I could see white capped waves approaching us from a distance.

Suddenly, my vision began to go dark. It started around the edges- a little blurry shadow- then began swallowing my vision whole.

Luckily, I caught myself on the kitchen counter before I fell too far off the barstool. Grey whipped around and furrowed his brows tightly together as he hurried over to my side.

"-wrong?" His voice sounded far away for a moment, but slowly came back into focus. I blinked a few times, watching the darkness dissipate from my vision.

"Got a little lightheaded I guess," I scowled, straightening back up in the seat to look at him. He was concerned. Those icy blue eyes flicked back and forth between mine, as if somehow he could read my mind through them.

"Angels don't get lightheaded, love," he mumbled. "Your heart rate is fine, I heard it shift for a moment when I was standing over there," he motioned to the place he'd been standing a moment before. "Temperature is fine," he said more to himself as he held the back of his hand to my forehead.

"Stop it, you're literally like my mother. I got lightheaded, I'm fine," I chuckled, swatting at his hand playfully.

"Angels don't get lightheaded, Greene. And you've never gotten lightheaded before," his brows pinched together and he gingerly reached up, his hand cupping my cheek and running a thumb across my cheekbone.

"You do realize I'm not human anymore, right? I'm not as ridiculously fragile as I was when you first met me, you don't have to worry," I smiled comfortingly.

"There are so many things wrong with that statement I don't even know where to begin. First of all, out of all the words I would use to describe you- fragile is not one of them. Human you was breakable- yes. Fragile? No. No one fragile could willingly walk through hellfire. Bang their head against a headboard to wake me up. Punch an Angel in the face. I'm convinced you could have had every single bone shattered in your body and you still would've managed to stand. Second of all, I will always worry about you. And you're wrong to think I will ever stop, have ever stopped. You're the only thing in this universe that matters to me," he grumbled, his calloused thumb running across my cheek.