Martin was overjoyed. Auvrea seemed happier than... Well, the whole short time he'd known her. Her wings, once pure white, had glowed a deep sapphire blue, the bluest of blues, before dissipating into nothingness. She was stunned, he was paralysed... Again... So much about her stunned him. Distracted by her wings vanishing, he hadn't noticed the change to her overall appearance. Now, he drank them in, her very appearance sustaining him. Her eyes, the same deep blue, had somehow become darker, hair becoming a light brunette. She still, however, kept her looks. They didn't dissapear with her wings, or hair. She whispered, and then kissed a stray feather before giving it to Martin.
She hugged his neck, and spoke to him. Martin lay his head against hers and looked beyond her for the first time in hours. He looked around and saw a woman in a feathery Vegas costume looking around, stopping to glare at the men. She seemed to glare at Auvrea and he scowled back at her, warding her off. She smiled to herself and continued looking around at the men on the bus.
He hugged Auvrea all the harder, loved her all the more. "I love you, Auvrea. I'll never leave you. Never. I'll always love you. No-one can take me away from you." And with that, he drifted off to a fitful sleep, first with a room full of angels, then vampires. Twenty Alex's. He shuddered in his sleep. Then werewolves. Lillith. He shivered again. And then he was sitting down again, Auvrea next to him, but a pink-feathered body was in front of him, a hand stroking his face. And then Auvrea was on her feet in a flash, standing between the two, a faint growl emitting from her throat.
Waking with a start, he looked around fearfully. And then his bladder made it's presence known. Sighing, he realised he'd have to go past the Vegas girl to get to the bathroom. Just ignore her. Just ignore her. You have Auvrea. You LOVE Auvrea, you know that. She's a Vegas girl, no doubt, cheap and utterly in love with herself. Auvrea... Selfless... She was an angel... And she gave that up for you. That thought kept him occupied until he got back to his seat and managed to doze again, Auvrea's weight on his shoulder and his head full of thoughts. No longer would he write about the misfortune of others... Now he'd write about the fortune of himself. His fortune with Auvrea...