Work Text:
If you ask him, he will tell you that angels don't dream. But humans do.
And you dream.
You dream about his blue eyes filled with pain and guilt. And you want to wash it all away. You want to pick up all his pieces and make him whole again. Like he made you.
You dream about the light, warm touch of his fingers on your skin. As light as silk black feathers. As warm as his sweet breath on your lips.
In your dreams he always tastes like milk and honey and he smells like the air after a spring thunderstorm. And he feels like home.
When you wake up, you feel drunk. More drunk than you were before you fall asleep.