Effrayante symétrie de Dieu.

"And each of those are filled with sinful things, amour."

Xas took a step towards the man, half aware of how red he had suddenly turned, and tilted his head with a half smug smirk- He was barely able to contain his gentle laughter, unable to help but wonder if all humans turned pink so easily. There hadn’t been a moment in his past where he had remembered Sobran turning such a shade, and it drew him in. “Cold?” Xas had to look down at his near naked figure to wonder if he was indeed cold, but drew nothing from glancing down upon himself; it was true that his flesh had turned a slighter shade of blue, his lips purple, although not entire. The angel’s lips were a pale purple, more of a bruise really, as if someone had taken their thumb and smeared wine upon his mouth. "If you are cold, I dare not take what I needn’t need. It would be quite greedy of me to indulge in the pleasure of another’s warmth."

Well, that was a strange way to put things. It almost sounded inappropriate. “You look like you should be in a morgue,” he stated as he started to strip himself of his overcoat. With it off, he was certainly feeling the chill more acutely. “Could you still, um, put it on. It’d make things less uncomfortable,” he explained sheepishly. He held the coat out for the angel — or at least Jimmy was calling him that in his mind — to take. “Why are you out here?”

Xas had no idea why the man wanted him to wear the coat so much, it wasn’t like he could actually wear it due to his feathers, but hey- he was a humorous man. The man reached for the coat from the middle, careful that they didn’t touch, before holding it to his chest; this was the part that made the man uncomfortable, right? Xas’ nakedness. “I am looking for my….roses. I was-….I dropped them. They are still in a rucksack, haven’t bloomed. Why are you out here?”

You fainted and I caught you. It was the first time I’d supported a human. You had such heavy bones. I put myself between you and gravity. Impossible.

+likevinegar-andspit

It would have a been shame to his past to have moved anywhere but deeper into France, moreover in honour of his long dead friend, but because he didn't feel comfort elsewhere; his wings had been buried deep in the earth long before the state took the vineyard in the renaissance, and had flushed the man out of his home, giving him no other choice but to move.