Hours had passed, and the morning had faded into a cool afternoon. Raden managed to stand with only a dull throb in his side. Limping through the cottage, Raden eventually made it into the main room, the injury slowing him down infuriatingly. The smell of faint lavender and old wood filled his senses. His eyes scanned the rather odd collection of items that called the shelves their home. Raden's focus landed on the front door, but as he took a painful step a muffled noise from below the floorboards made him pause. His curiosity grew and he abandoned the attempts of leaving to investigate.

      Raden carefully bent down, grimacing in pain, opening the latch. There was an old ladder that he didn't place too much faith in, but nonetheless, he climbed down and was amazed by the workshop that lay before him. He took a step forward and saw a head pop up from behind a stack of books. Azrael appeared with four decently sized books in her arms.

     Raden folded his arms and smirked. "You're cute when you're focused."

     The sudden voice caused Azrael to jump in fright and drop her arm full of books. Peering up, she scrunched her nose before picking up the scattered books, and slamming them shut irritably before stacking them back in her arms.

     "You know I could've been dead up there all this time. Never came to check on me or anything." Raden sarcastically stated. Ignoring him, Azreal continued what she was doing, furthering Raden's desire to annoy her. "I could've been in some kind of danger of bleeding out."

     Azrael slammed the books down, causing a loud thud to echo, and turned to Raden. "Clearly you're not dead." She turned away from him and muttered, "Would've been better if you had."

     Raden's smug expression quickly vanished as his temper flared, his narrowed gaze thick with frustration. "You better watch it."

     Azrael spun around. "Or what?" She folded her arms, challenging Raden.

     "Don't get smart."

     "Are you going to harass me some more, or will you insult my attempts to help you?" Azrael questioned. She watched Raden closely, unable to read his face. After a few moments of silence, Azrael let out a frustrated huff and went back to cleaning. "You know what. Why don't you leave."

     Azrael disappeared again, leaving Raden standing at the base of the ladder. Anger easing momentarily with her departure, but it was replaced with the feeling of guilt. He quickly shook the odd feeling and went to find Azrael, but she had vanished again.

     He carefully walked around the clutter that was a bit overwhelming at first glance. Raden saw Azrael's head bob between the tall stacks of books. However, he wasn't going to attempt to squeeze through the narrow pathway.

     "Do you need any help?" Raden asked, trying to peer through to Azrael.

     Azrael leaned over from the bookshelf and frowned. "I'm perfectly fine. I thought I told you to leave?"

     "You did, but you also looked like you needed some help." Raden pointed out. "I'm also kind of hungry."

     "I'm not a maid," Azrael huffed. "Besides..." She moved a stack of books to clear a path. "There's porridge you can have."

     He leaned down a bit. "Yeah, but it's cold." His attention was caught by odd-colored jars that sat eye level with him. "What's exactly in these jars?" He picked up one, taking a closer look.

     Azrael rolled her eyes and huffed. "None of your business. Now get out before you break something." She snatched the jar away and began lightly pushing Raden towards the ladder.

     Raden glanced over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth. "You know what, I changed my mind. You're cuter when you act all angry."

     Azrael rolled her eyes in annoyance. The audacity of this guy. She balled her fist, fighting the urge to chuck the nearest item at the stranger's head. In that short moment, Azrael decided that this stranger wasn't going to get the best of her, no matter how charming he seemed. "You want to help? You can stay here and organize my potion ingredients." She left before Raden could say anything against it or give some smart-ass comment.

     Raden scanned over the cabinets and small desk, seeing that it was in a completely chaotic mess. He sighed and started cleaning. After about fifteen minutes, Raden found himself somehow in a bigger mess than he began with. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before trying to figure out a better way of cleaning this up.

     "Are you always this unorganized?" Raden was met with a brief moment of silence before Azrael popped her head out.

     "Are you always this much of a dick?"

     Raden turned and held two jars up; he chose to ignore Azrael's question. "Butterfly wings and clover. What are these for?"

     Azrael walked over, gently taking the jars out of his hands. "You ask too many questions." She placed the jars down and wiped her hands on her dress. "If you continue to talk this much, then nothing is going to get done."

     "Well, yeah, cleaning isn't exactly my thing." He smiled, leaning down to her level. "I thought it would be charming. Was it?"

     Azrael glared at him. She wouldn't back down. "You're wasting my time."

     Raden sat down on the stool and sighed in relief. The wound in his side was going to be a pain in his ass for a while. "You should be honored to have me as a guest."

     "I'm going back upstairs. You're free to join or stay down because it seems I can't get rid of you." Azrael ignored the flirting and turned on her heels.

     Upstairs, Azrael began cleaning up the mess she had left when she stormed out. She stoked the fire some to keep it going and checked the simmering pot. Soft footsteps made their way up the ladder, and Raden poked his head out. He quietly pulled himself up and closed the door before sitting at the small table under the only window in the cottage. Azrael moved swiftly through the house, lost in her own world. Raden watched her closely. He took note of how her hair would sway as she walked and ignited in a fiery red as it caught the sunbeams streaming in through the window. Her face held a soft frown, and a small crease between her eyebrows would form ever so slightly when she concentrated just a bit.

     "You know most witches I've seen would tidy this all up with a snap of their fingers." Raden pointed out.

     Azrael turned to him, her frown deepening.

     "What? I was just pointing out that you guys normally use magic at any given chance."

     "Uhuh, and don't most angels have healing properties?" Azrael fired back. She stood hands on hips, challenging Raden.

     Crossing his arms, Raden sat back in his chair, smirking softly. "You got me." Azrael nodded and turned back to cleaning. Raden watched for a few more minutes until the silence became too much. "I never got your name."

     "Why does it matter?"

     "I don't know. Thought it would be nice to know the name of the pretty lady who tended to my wounds," Raden explained. He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Listen, I'll tell you my name if you tell me yours."

     Azrael folded her arms and stood unsure. She let out a breath and gave in. "Fine, my name is Sarah."

     Raden raised an eyebrow and tilted his head a bit. Something flashed in his eyes, sending shivers down Azrael's arms. "Now don't lie to me."

     Azrael's shoulders slumped forward a bit. Clearly lying wasn't going to work. "It's Azrael."

     "That's a nice name." Raden softly said. Azrael watched him smile, and she felt her cheeks heat up. "Well, Azrael, it's nice to meet the girl who decided to save me. I'm Raden."

     Azrael nodded and smiled softly as she returned to her cleaning. Raden watched intently for a time but became fatigued and began to struggle to keep his eyes open.

     "Go lay back down. I changed the sheets on the bed. I'll wake you when I make some dinner."

     Nodding, Raden headed to the small bedroom. Trudging steps that felt like lead and his wings dragging across the floor, he wasn't sure how he managed to make it, but Raden was enveloped in sleep as soon as his head found the cool, soft pillow.