Clouds overtook the sky with thick, cloying darkness. I embraced my Shadow and allowed the freezing gifts of Hell to invade my soul. I welcomed the cold - despite everything I’d learned about myself, despite the undeniable warmth that clung to me like fine flakes of gold, the cold still felt most like me. My dark, feathered wings beat against the night sky with a steady reassurance. As black as the night around me, I felt free.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as I flew along the coast. I took up a post far atop the Golden Gate Bridge and sat, my knees pulled to my chest, and waited. Tugging Aaron’s coat tight around me I inhaled deeply, but the scent of him - cinnamon hots and kohl - was fading. The long black trench coat that was synonymous with Aaron smelled more and more like me, making me feel like I’d lost Aaron twice.