Eve returned to that space, the space where she demolished the cathedral. Narrowing her eyes, she continued her steps to the middle where the statue once hung. Walls and doors materialized as she turned to face the closing of the doors.
Sitting down, the golden chair awaited her rest.
"A change of clothes for you perhaps?" Eve questioned turning toward the man.
"You do not honor me with death; what is it that you want?" the man gritted out and Eve walked over to him.
"I want my lover's return," she held his face, "I miss him dearly."
Azrael felt her lips so close to his that if he so much as breathed, they would touch.
Eve pulled away and released her hold.
"How do you not know angel?" she stood tilting her head, "You are the angel of death and retribution, or was that a lie."
