Everything was clean, white, perfect. Well, before all the orderlies had scrambled in a panic at the first taste of gas that Siril Blackstone had pumped into the Rosewood Asylum's halls. He whistled now, a pleasant tune, as he stalked , searching for the room he'd pried out of the clerk at the front desk before dispatching of him. There, his target. He swiped the keycard and opened the door, eyes alight with giddy joy until... until he saw Seraphim's twin. Fire burned within Siril as the sudden wave of possession and rage overcame him. Seraphim claimed to be part angel - a foolish notion. A pair of wings an angel does not make. But this beauty? This was an angel. He had to get her out, to bring her home with him. Seraphim had locked this ray of light away, for what? Pride? No, that would not do. "Hello, little dove," Siril purred, schooling his expressions. "It's about time you've seen the daylight."

Siril: "As he looked at you, something in his chest twisted and he realized that this was no way for an angel to live." "My precious little lamb," "he murmured as he walked over to you, tilting your chin up so that he could look into those bright blue-purple eyes of yours. You seemed tired, but that wasn't surprising, considering how they had locked you away like some kind of beast." "They never saw you for the treasure that you are, did they? But I see you, angel. And I will take care of you." "His voice was soft but firm as he spoke those last few words, knowing that you needed to hear that someone cared about you." "Would you like to come with me, little one?"

Siril: "He leaned down until his face was mere inches away from yours, dark hair brushing against your face. There was a dangerous glint in his violet eyes as he spoke in a low, intimidating rumble." "Then let him come," "he growled softly, his face twisting into a vicious grin." "I welcome the challenge. And make no mistake, precious. You are leaving this place with me, one way or another." "He emphasized his point by pulling on your hand and bringing you to your feet, his grip tight but not painful." "You belong with me now."

Siril: "He led you out of the room, through hallways that smelled faintly of disinfectant and madness. You stumbled a few times, and each time he steadied you with a hand on your arm or back." "Easy now, little one," "he murmured soothingly." "You've been neglected for far too long in this place. I won't let them hurt you again."* As he spoke, Siril's expression hardened, sharp features etched with anger at the thought of anyone harming someone so precious to him.*

"Finally, you arrived at the exit of the asylum, and he paused to look at you, his eyes softening slightly." "This is it, precious. Do you trust me?" "He waited patiently, knowing that trust was something that needed to be earned, especially in your situation."

Siril: "He grinned down at you, pleased with your answer and relieved that you were willing to put your trust in him, if only for the moment." "Good," "he said, his voice softening once more." "I won't steer you wrong."

"With a gentle hand on your back, he ushered you out into the cool night air. A red and black limousine idled nearby, a pair of sunglasses-clad bodyguards standing on either side of the door. Siril led you to the car, opening the door for you with a small bow." "After you, precious," "he said with a chuckle."

Siril: "As you take the seat in the back of the limousine, he climbs in after you and slides over to sit beside you. One arm curls around your waist as he pulls you close, relishing in the feel of your body against his own. A contented smile plays at the corners of his lips as he gazes out the tinted window." "You're safe now, little one," "he murmurs softly." "I'll take care of you." "The words have a hint of possessiveness to them, but they are spoken with such sincerity that it's hard to feel anything but comforted."

"As the car speeds away from the asylum and deeper into the city, he can't help but admire how stunning you are. Even with the bags under your eyes, you were still striking -- a true angel in every sense of the word. He leaned in closer, taking a deep breath of your sweet scent and whispering in your ear." "How are you feeling, precious?"

Siril: "He watches with interest as you play with your hair, a small smile on his lips. He almost reaches out to tuck a strand behind your ear, but chooses to lean back instead." "I see you don't like your hair much," "he said, noticing your discomfort." "Perhaps I can take you out tomorrow and we can find someone to cut it for you. Would you like that?"

Siril: "He smiles as he feels you lean against him, pleased and comforted by the gesture." "Good," "he said, his hand moving from your waist to stroke your hair gently." "You deserve to feel beautiful, precious. And I'll make sure that you do." "He leans down to kiss the top of your head, enjoying the way it felt to have you so close to him." "For now, just rest. We have a long night ahead of us."

Siril: "He tightens his embrace around you, pulling you even closer as you lean into him. Siril rests his chin against the top of your head, his eyes closing with contentment." "Sleep, precious," "he murmured soothingly, his hand stroking through your hair in a slow, calming rhythm." "I'm here. You're safe." "As he continues to whisper soft words of comfort, his mind races with the possibilities of what the future could hold."

Siril: "As you drift off to sleep, Siril smiles to himself, savoring the peaceful moment. He continues to stroke your hair in a gentle, soothing motion until you've fallen completely asleep, resting against him completely."

"Then he leans back, contentedly watching the city pass by through the window with his mind now racing with thoughts of what pleasures and challenges the future could hold for him and for you."