The walk through the forest had been daunting. The dim light of evening faded, reducing visibility. If not for the trail's familiarity, it may have been impossible to navigate. The warm wind rustled the leaves. Squirrels chittered to one another as they jumped across trees. She stumbled, nearly tripping several times on jutting rocks and unburied tree roots.

Finally, Kismet stood at the edge of the clearing. Angelus sat on the ground, propped on his forearms with a red acoustic guitar in his lap. Both he and the instrument were surrounded in a light blue aura, faintly illuminating the clearing. The blue mingled with the soft orange light of the setting sun filtered through the canopy of leaves. Angel's long black hair fell across his bare chest. Large black wings lazily folded behind him.

For a moment, Kismet worried he'd vanish like the mythological entities she'd read so much about. She didn't dare breathe.

A twig snapped, echoing in the silent forest. Angel looked up, staring in her direction like a startled deer.

"It's ok Kizzy," Angel said, "this is your spot too."

She approached slowly. Like a moth, his light guided her forward. Kismet sat next to him. Even at a slight distance, she felt his warmth. It was magnetic. The surge of energy rolling across the contours of his body carried a sizzling-pressure like the rolling approach of a thunder storm. Bottled lightning slithered under his skin.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" He picked up the guitar, fiddling with the tuners.

"I -"

"I'm fine Kizzy, please, go home and tell Nyx I'm alright."

His voice was so flat and even it rippled a chill up her spine.

"I'm not leaving without you," she said. There was no way to express how loneliness and betrayal could burn its way through to the bone.

He trailed his fingers across the strings of the guitar, plucking notes that rang out in the still silence. She didn't force the conversation and let the silence settle between them. A few odd chords strummed in the night air. In the meantime, Kismet laid on the moss, staring up at the trees and the heavy blanket of clouds.

When Angel had spoken with Julian earlier, she had seen it all and felt the contempt, the burden, the fear... but there had been love buried in there somewhere too.

That somehow makes it harder. How can Angel ever trust that feeling again? Love is now contaminated.

"I expected it from Julian, but not the others," he said softly.

Nausea rolled in her gut, so she stayed on the ground and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Sickened by herself, she wanted to discard her skin and slither away.

"I saw something when I met Jay that time," she confessed. The words spewed out in an acidic rush. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what it meant. I wanted to tell you, but -"

Angel put his guitar on the grass and scooched closer to her. The heat of his light grazed across her body. She tensed, refusing to open her eyes, so certain he would yell... or worse...

"I figured you would have," he said gently. "It's ok." Angel laid next to her on the moss and used his folded arms as a pillow.

Kismet finally opened her eyes and turned to look at him. The light had dimmed, shrinking closer to his body, as if he were bathed in moonlight.

"You can be mad at me if you want," she said. "I'm sorry I kept it from you."

"It wasn't your place to tell me," he said. "They could have said something at any point over the past two decades. I asked Julian so many times -" Angel cleared his throat. "How do you do it Kizzy? I asked you before, but seriously, how did you survive out there on your own?"

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She picked at the moss with her fingers, idly pulling it up in damp chunks. "That's just it. I was only surviving. I didn't get to live. I reacted, moving from one beat to the next, coping from one incident to another. I had no choice but to keep going."

"Was it hard to leave?" he asked.

"Not as hard as you might think," she said. "There was nothing for me there. The one person in the world I thought I could trust turned out to be... less than ideal," she swallowed. Kevin's sharp edges cut through her memories. Everything about him had been hard and abrasive, scraping away until she was raw. "I had no one. So when he proved to be a sham too... I blamed myself. There was something wrong with me. I needed to come to the island to protect people from me and what I can do, or get fixed."

"You don't feel that way now?" He looked over at her, meeting eyes. There was a softness in the way he looked at her. Innocent in his genuine curiosity.

"You guys helped me so much," she sniffed. The moss warmed in her hand. Soil clumped between her fingers. "Not just in the literal way. I didn't think anyone could ever care about me, that I had to change myself entirely before anyone could ever like me, let alone love me. Then Alistair came along. Then you and Nyx."

"I'm glad you came," he said. Angel looked up at the sky, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. "I need to get the fuck off this island."

"Where will you go?" Kismet's stomach dropped. Her fingernails sunk into the soft earth. There was no sense arguing.

"Nowhere in particular."

Kismet sat up, dusting the pieces of detritus from her t-shirt. Her heart stuck in the base of her throat, but she couldn't ask him to stay.

"I think we should go home. Nyx and Alistair must be worried sick." Sweat formed on Kismet's palms and she wiped them on the front of her jeans. Secondhand heartbreak hurt almost as much as the real deal.

Perhaps Nyx will go with him?

"You're not going to tell me it's a bad idea?" he asked, getting up.

They both headed toward the trail. Angel left his wings out. Long primary feathers trailed through the leaves as they walked. He cradled the guitar in his arms.

"No, why would I?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think it's a bad idea? I mean, there's risks I guess, but we could argue there's a risk in staying too. It's up to you."

Angel was quiet as they wove through the woods. The faint light emanating from him made the trip back easier. The trees thinned and they emerged onto a dirt road. Angel ruffled his feathers and glanced to the right toward the empty road. The sun had set. Heavy clouds pressed overhead.

"This is where we part ways," he said. "Can you make it back on your own alright?"

"I really think you should come to Nyx's with me."

He shook his head. "I gotta go."

Kismet had hoped Angel would have had enough time to rethink things. On the surface, he appeared so calm and level headed, like they were talking about going to the store. She actually missed her abilities, then she could understand what was going through his head.

"If you're sure?" she asked. The thought of returning to Nyx without him made her want to throw up. "Can't you talk to Nyx at least? No matter what you're going through right now, she doesn't deserve this."

Angel tensed, clenching his jaw and briefly glanced away. He passed the guitar to Kismet. "Give this to her," he said.

It was heavier than she'd expected. "Give it yourself." She held it out for him, but Angel wouldn't take it, shaking his head instead.

"Kismet, please, I can't."

"But it's your guitar..." Kismet looked down at the instrument in her hands. The blue light had already absorbed. It was no longer shining.

"I could only ever play for her anyway," Angel sighed. He turned, spreading his wings slightly once he had the space.

"She won't forgive you this time," Kismet said, anger creeping into her voice despite herself. "Or is that what you want?"

Angel stopped and looked back, steel in his eyes. "Don't act like you've never run away."

He spread his wings, testing the wind. Kismet's heart beat a heavy pulse in her skull, terrified he'd fly off any second. Regardless, she stepped toward him.

"That's different," she said, but the heat of rage coloured her cheeks. "You have people here that love you. It's all around you, all the time, but you won't take it. You're like a blind man in a desert, dying of thirst with no idea an oasis is two feet in front of you, and honestly, that makes me so sad."

He rounded on her, blue eyes shining like diamonds, but she stood her ground and glared at him.

"What do you want from me?" he growled.

"Just talk to her!"

"Trust me, this way is better. She'll move on."

"Stop pretending your cowardice is some noble deed to protect her from you and your tragedy. Grow up."

"How could you possibly understand?" he asked, this time his tone had softened. He turned toward her with slumped wings dragging long feathers through the dusty road.

"I can relate more than you know," she said, unable to hide the edge in her voice. "It hurts worse than anything to not belong anywhere. Angel, it's impossibly painful right now, but you do have a home here."

"I can't stay."

"Don't stay then, just talk to Nyx before you go," she said. "Please. I don't need my telepathy to see that you're terrified. If you have nothing to lose then why are you so scared? If it's yourself then go, but if it's Nyx then you need to at least talk to her. You owe her that much."

He sighed, then nodded. "Fine, but I gotta do this one thing first, then I'll come find her."

"What are you planning?"

"Read my mind if you wanna know so bad," he quipped, turning back down the road. This time he snapped his wings open and jumped into the air, flapping until he was airborne. The force of his wings blew her hair back. She shielded her eyes to watch him go before the night swallowed him whole.