The only explanation she would ever be able to give, if asked, was that she was contrary by nature, or at least she had become so the more she spent time in this place. Without the intent focus on work, on surviving, she had more time to adjust. For the first time in years this place let her sort herself out as a person rather than staple herself back together when bits seemed to flake off.

Control ebbed and flowed and she knew she should walk away, but was also very aware that she did not want to. As good as fingers felt carding along feathers the jolt and crackle of energy from his wings to hers was all the more satisfying. Eyes half closed so she could focus on how it felt rather than what she thought, she slid her wings forward, curling around the outside of his. Shielding him from the wind and first few drops of rain.

"It is so terribly odd to hear you speak formally, Derek."