Heroes, "Red Angel" Angela/the Haitian, rated PG-13
Fandom: Heroes
Title: Red Angel
Characters/Pairings: Angela/the Haitian
Word Count: 381
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Written for "Colors" theme at heroes_contest
Spoilers: general Heroes knowledge
Summary: Among his memories, he remembers his first time meeting her.
Red Angel
He is plagued with so many alien memories that sometimes he cannot hold onto his own. But he remembers the important ones, like the rich color of green in his homeland of Haiti, or the black chaos and suffering inflicted on his people.
And he remembers her, and how she helped him in his darkest hour.
Mostly he remembers her tragic nature. She appears to him understanding and strong, but underneath he can see her fragility. He does not try to change her. He does not see it as a terrible flaw. When he reveals this to her, she does not break down in his arms and cry like the women in his village would.
She straightens her shoulders, smiles, and meets her deep eyes with his. It is a pact of understanding.
The first memory of her is vivid. He remembers her nails, so perfectly shaped and colored deep red like the fresh blood that soaks the land of his fallen people. To compare Angela Petrelli to blood is no coincidence. She herself has a fair amount of blood on her hands.
But he does not judge her for it.
He does not scorn her or refuse her when she first takes him to her bed, a young man rescued from the bleeding homeland, trying to find meaning in the gifts God gave him.
Angela Petrelli gives him meaning. Her blood-red nails rake over his back, and he shivers and his muscles tense from her first touch. He looks at her, finding their shared understanding in her eyes as she settles him down against the white sheets. He sees the sharp contrast of his skin against the white, and he looks to the ceiling and hears the shuffling her clothes beside him. The weight on the bed shifts, and he closes his eyes.
She gives him a home here, and as she slides against him, her skin is as warm as Haiti at sunrise. He feels her nails over his chest, and allows himself to breathe evenly.
He already owes her so much - an amount so large he could never fulfill for as long as God allows him to live. He accepts her when she moves against him.
Because he knows, his place is here, always by Angela Petrelli’s side.
Title: Red Angel
Characters/Pairings: Angela/the Haitian
Word Count: 381
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Written for "Colors" theme at heroes_contest
Spoilers: general Heroes knowledge
Summary: Among his memories, he remembers his first time meeting her.
Red Angel
He is plagued with so many alien memories that sometimes he cannot hold onto his own. But he remembers the important ones, like the rich color of green in his homeland of Haiti, or the black chaos and suffering inflicted on his people.
And he remembers her, and how she helped him in his darkest hour.
Mostly he remembers her tragic nature. She appears to him understanding and strong, but underneath he can see her fragility. He does not try to change her. He does not see it as a terrible flaw. When he reveals this to her, she does not break down in his arms and cry like the women in his village would.
She straightens her shoulders, smiles, and meets her deep eyes with his. It is a pact of understanding.
The first memory of her is vivid. He remembers her nails, so perfectly shaped and colored deep red like the fresh blood that soaks the land of his fallen people. To compare Angela Petrelli to blood is no coincidence. She herself has a fair amount of blood on her hands.
But he does not judge her for it.
He does not scorn her or refuse her when she first takes him to her bed, a young man rescued from the bleeding homeland, trying to find meaning in the gifts God gave him.
Angela Petrelli gives him meaning. Her blood-red nails rake over his back, and he shivers and his muscles tense from her first touch. He looks at her, finding their shared understanding in her eyes as she settles him down against the white sheets. He sees the sharp contrast of his skin against the white, and he looks to the ceiling and hears the shuffling her clothes beside him. The weight on the bed shifts, and he closes his eyes.
She gives him a home here, and as she slides against him, her skin is as warm as Haiti at sunrise. He feels her nails over his chest, and allows himself to breathe evenly.
He already owes her so much - an amount so large he could never fulfill for as long as God allows him to live. He accepts her when she moves against him.
Because he knows, his place is here, always by Angela Petrelli’s side.