I had been slipping in and out of consciousness. I woke up laid on a bed. My bed. The one I always I wished I had a better relationship with. I was covered with the duvets and the doctor had probably already bandaged my stomach a second time, while I was unconscious. I wouldn't blame him if he was scared for his life, with the way Azrael was glaring at him. The bed was soft. The bed I had growning up. I liked that.

Although it was beginning to feel like a deathbed instead. There was no noise. Everyone in my room was silent. The mood was too sober I hated it. I didn't even understand how they all stood there with Azrael watching. Did they even know who he was?

Was I the only one who could see him? I couldn't be. The doctor looked scared out of his wits.

When the doctor finished, everyone left. They all just walked out as though they weren't conscious of it. I turned to Azrael with a raised brow.

"I wanted to have you to myself." He confessed.

It didn't matter if I had wanted this death for so long. I was scared to die. I couldn't just leave Azrael alone. I didn't know where I was going after but I could already feel my life slipping away slowly.

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believeth in him, shall not perish, but have everlasting life" I'd heard that passage over and over when I was little. I'd been taught of the love of God. I had known about God's love from a very  young age. I believed in God, but my belief was limited. I believed in his existence and his power. But that was where it ended. But what really was this love people spoke of? I never seemed to feel it, I always seemed to get the shorter end of the stick. My predicament was a worthy example.

Love is blind. It really is. It was blind to the probability that the man I loved was not human. It was blind to the fact that there could be a punishment for such a union. It was blind to the fact that I was going to die soon. So I may as well have gotten it off my chest. A little longer. I wanted to live a little longer so I could tell him how I felt. He didn't need to blame himself.

The love of my life was standing feet away, watching me like he was the one dying, and I could do nothing about it.

"Azrael" I called. "Come here."

He looked like he was in pain and he'd rather stay still than move to worsen the pain. I knew that wasn't the case. He hated seeing me like this.

"Why didn't you come Azrael?" I asked as softly as I could.

"He didn't let me. I tried. He made sure I couldn't come. They bound me. He said it had to be done. Your relief was 'overdue' apparently." He put emphasis on overdue.

His voice was empty. Devoid of emotion but he spoke with an underlying tone of anger. Icy cold anger that sent shivers up my spine. It was the first time he spoke to me that way. Then I realised it wasn't directed at me.

I didn't want to know who "he" was.

"Come, I want to touch your hair." I explained.

"You should be furious. I should have gotten away. Or tried harder. I should have -"

"Azrael" I cut him off. "Come, I want to touch your hair."

He said nothing, just watched me for a few seconds, then walked up to my bed, kneeling at my bedside, bending his head to rest on my chest as he listened to my heartbeat.

I ran my fingers through his soft locks.

"You know you don't have to kneel. You could lie beside me." I pointed out.

"I'm comfortable. Besides I can't lie on the bed with you." He explained.

"I love you." I confessed.

"You can't say that. You can't-" He protested.

"I love you, Azrael." I cut him off.

He sighed in resignation. "I love you too. But it's no use now. Because I can't do anything else for you. My love is worth nothing right now."

I said nothing. We stayed in silence as I ran my hands through his hair.

That was how I died. My hand in his hair, his head on my chest. I felt water droplets through my clothes and heard a few deep sobs and hiccups as I slipped away, but I thought nothing of it. He couldn't have been crying for me. Angels didn't cry.