Auvrea kissed him carefully, her lips barely touching his. Pure white wings seemed to sprout into existence as she withdrew, and she hung her head as if in shame. And then, she started to cry! Martin, stunned into silence once again, held out a hand and tenderly touched the feathers. They were so soft, silky. He withdrew his hand quickly, shocked, and she seemed to start crying all the more. She seemed to have misinterpreted his reaction as one of disgust, rather than mere shock. Good Lord! She IS an angel! She was still crying, her head still hung. Martin put his hand on her chin, gently bringing her head back to the same level as his, and he looked her straight in the eye.
"Sorry, Auvrea," he started, and she sniffled again, "it's just shocking. It doesn't matter, Auvrea. You're still you, no matter what. I still love you. Wings or not." he smiled gently, seeing some reassurance in her eyes; with that, he kissed her.