Walking alone, it might have seemed like he was just wandering aimlessly, but the angel had a reason to be walking around like he was. He was trying to find his best friend to see if he wanted to hang out or even just go take a talk somewhere. Absently, he wondered if he should take him to Paradise Lost to have a good time, but seeing as Azrael finally slipped away from Dove long enough for the angel to take this quick walk, he didn't feel like going back and facing the other angel who was a workaholic in his eyes. Picking up his pace, he opened his gray wings and took to the air away from the night club. He flew, shielded from human eyes, towards the place where he could feel Matthews soul. It was strange to know a soul so well like Azrael does, but to him, it was like finding north on a compass. He found Matthew when he was just a boy, sick and without many friends. Azrael's gentle heart took to the boy as he healed him as much as he could, though really he was there to take the boys soul since he came close to dying a few times. It scared Azrael, though the man doesn't show it, but dying was just something that didn't come naturally to the angel.

Pin pointing Matthew's soul's location, he landed just far enough away so that it looked like he was walking. He shuffled his wings lightly, he then pinned them to his back and put the shroud over them to hide them from human eyes. His wings were gray, as were all Soul Collectors, but he began to wonder if and when his wings would turn black due to his many 'sins' over the past few years. He saved Matthew rather than wait for him to die, using his healing power to cure the sickness over and over again. He finally noticed Matthew laying on a bench not far away. As he came closer, he could tell he was having trouble with his lung again. I swear, he smokes just as much as I do... Absently, like always, Azrael brushed his hand over the teenagers head in a playful and fond way, messing up his hair. However, at the same time, Azrael slipped in and swirled around his energy to help heal the boys lungs just a bit. It was all done on the fly, so nobody would be the wiser. It helped to touch the area afflicted, but he can't go around groping his best friend all the time, right? "You know, if you stopped smoking, you'd stop coughing as bad, idiot." Azrael said, though he was a hypocrite for saying that since he smoked as well. His tone was gentle and fond, his use of the word 'idiot', at least in regards to Matthew, was one said out of fondness. "Then again, I can't say much in regards to that..."

Azrael moved to the end of the bench where Matthews legs were, lifted them up slightly, and sat down setting his legs on his lap. It was natural for him to do so, he was so comfortable with Matthew that the angel sometimes wondered if he'd give away his secret accidentally by flying off one day instead of walking like he had to pretend to do. To Matthew, his name was "Daniel" not Azrael. He had to pretend to be human ever since he met the boy, even going so far as to 'grow up' with him. He didn't mind, he enjoyed pretending to be human. They were so free to do as they pleased. They could screw, drink, smoke, fight, and more other sins than he could count. He, however, was shackled to the ties of being a Soul Collector. Absently he took out a cigarette and his lighter, lighting it up and taking a long drag. His blue eyes closed as he blew the smoke into the air as the wind blew his dirty blond hair about. Nobody said that he was a pure angel, just one who enjoys to sin more than the average angel. "So what are you up to? Scoping out new romances? Hiding from your best friend?" Azrael gave Matthew on of his sly smiles, the kind that made women's hearts melt and others to not take him seriously at all. "If you are becoming one with the bench, I applaud you, it seems to be going rather well." Azrael blew out more smoke as he then laughed, looking relaxed and enjoying himself. He always felt relaxed around Matthew, the only human to ever have spiked his interest so much to make him stay.

Azrael smirked as he blew out smoke again, laughing as his best friend calling him him out on his hypocritical statement. He always had Matthew to keep him in line. If there was one constant thing in his life, it was his best friend. While his right held his cigarette, his left hand absently laid itself on Matthew's leg like usual. There was nothing he liked more than to sit idly by Matthew and just let the world go by them both. Azrael didn't have much going for him aside from his steady decline into fallen status, so the moments he could have alone with his best friend were the times he liked best. Azrael crossed his own legs, still keeping Matthews on his lap, as he moved his arm to the back of the bench. He'd almost forgotten how at ease he was around this human male. "I'll never give up this vice, it's all I have left to stick it to the man," It was a bit dramatic to say on his part, but it had a double meaning. By 'the man', Azrael meant God, and how he had wanted to rebel against him, but could only do in short sinful ways. The continuous gray of his wings signified to him that his Creator didn't want to give up on the sinful angel just yet. Perhaps he never would.

I don't think I could have stayed this long on the fence if I hadn't met Matthew...

The thought seemed to stay with him as he wondered absently for a moment. He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Matthew respond to him. Azrael gave him one of his crooked grins, the sleepless look in his eyes making him seem a bit darker in personality than usual. The dark bags under the angel's eyes was the only show that he stayed up late to help run his nightclub, collect souls, and even have time for himself. Sometimes he wondered why he even became a student, but the thought of leaving Matthew alone and sick made the angel want to cringe. Why did he feel like this towards a human? And why was it just this human? Even Azrael didn't know, but he let it continue on as if it was the most normal thing within the silver angel's existence. Azrael laughed at his friend's response, flicking his cigarette a bit to get the extra ash off. "I know, but isn't that what teenagers do? Find the meaning to life, find that one romance. Kick a statue in teen angst." Azrael smirked at his statements, though they made him sound like the old man he really was. One-hundred and seventy-four years he existed, sometimes he just didn't know how to act. "Well i'm not entirely fond of girls either, but hey, I didin't say that it had to be with a girl." With Matthew, though he knew the boy to be hiding his passion, he didn't hide who he, Azrael was, not entirely.

Azrael, like some angels, didn't care about gender, only that there was something there to go on. Love. Lust. It was all the same to the silver angel. He had never known love in either his human life or his angelic one; he guessed he never would. "Don't mind me, i'm just acting the part of an old man today. My birthday is coming soon and I feel so old." It wasn't true, but Azrael did pick a birthday for himself when he had met the boy so that there would be some legitimacy to his human lie of a life. The day he picked was May 11th, a day in which he had chosen because that was the day he had first met his friend. He didn't care on what day it was, as long as he picked one. His friend made an excellent point that Azrael seemed to find him at anywhere he turned. He tried to be better at not showing up in the weirdest places to Matthew, but sometimes the angel just forgot that his friend had no idea what he was. "You got me, I installed a tracker in your teeth when you were knocked out that late late night last December." His voice was monotone as his eyes held all the light the angel still had within him. However, the smirk of amusement didn't leave his face. He blew out more smoke, letting the cigarette lay limp between his fingers on Matthew's leg, the ash falling to the ground by the wind that carried it. "Try not to eat anything caramel, it ruins the transmitter." Azrael snickered, covering his mouth with his long fingers, a look of peace came over the man. Today was a good day.

Azrael felt his cigarette move from his hand to then be put back by Matthew. Really, the boy did make his task of healing him a lot harder if he would continue smoking, but there was nothing Azrael could do, he's a rather poor model of a person anyway. The angel had breathed in the toxic smoke, filling his lungs with it and feeling them burn with the hot tar coating them. He healed himself regularly, but still doesn't change the fact that he does it. The angel had to chuckle at Matt saying that he was old for his word choice. Azrael couldn't have been more clearer on his 'sticking it to the man'. He wanted to challenge God, make god choose between heaven and earth; he wanted to make his creator feel the pain he felt over having to leave Matthew, his only mortal friend, behind on earth when he had to return to heaven at times to drop off the souls of the dead. The pain from the tar in his lungs while he smoked didn't come close to how bad it hurt. In his own way, Azrael loved Matthew beyond that of friendship, he wanted to choose the boy over heaven, but something stopped him, and Azrael didn't know what it was. "You've known me for how many years and yet you don't see that I am a rebel at heart. For shame, Matthew, I thought you knew me better." Azrael said with a slow fox grin on his face while he took another drag off his cigarette, letting it stay between his lips loosely as he glanced back down at Matthew, a spark of the old mischief Azrael used to have came back into his eyes.

"All teenagers have angst. I have it, you have it, hell, even that girl in our english class who giggles and draws dogs on her notebook all day has it." Azrael smirked, for the woman he mentioned was someone he knew well and knew she had more beneath her surface than what she showed. Not that he hasn't seen beneath her sheets once or twice. At the talk about Azrael knowing he wasn't gay, the angel couldn't help but frown. He wished that Matt accepted who he was for the entirety of it all, but he knew that it would take a bit of persuision on his part to do so. Slowly, Azrael let his hand stay on Matthew's knee, a gesture that Azrael always did when they were sitting like this. He took one last drag off the cigarette before he stamped it out on the bench seat and tossed it away into the trash can next to them. He sighed, rubbing lightly at Matthew's leg. "It's okay, you know...There isn't anything wrong with liking someone of the same sex." Azrael had tried to have this conversation over and over with Matthew, but it didn't go well each time. Part of him wished that it would stick at some point. Quickly the conversation turned to birthdays, making Azrael frown, but he said nothing more. To Azrael, birthdays were pointless since angels had no age limits. Human's lives were so short. It made Azrael sad to know that the short time he had with Matthew would come to an end one day and he would ferry his soul to heaven.

"If you want, I could take you to Paradise Lost and give you the VIP treatment instead, though time spent with a family member is good, yeah?" Azrael didn't hide the fact that he owned a nightclub, though he had told those that knew what he was who worked for him, including Dove, to not let on to others who or what he was. Sometimes Azrael wished that he could live as a human, though that wish was not to be realized ever within his existence. Azrael snapped out of his daze when he was nudged playfully by Matthew, to which Azrael nudged back with a small smile down at him. "You'll think twice when you wake up with a sore mouth and a sugar rush." The angel teased back, amused by the joke still. "You will be my downfall, Matthew, I swear." Azrael chuckled, rubbing his leg like usual, absently, but the carefree smile he flashed Matthew spoke of Azrael's love for the boy and just how much Azrael was grateful for him being best friends with him.

Thinking about Matthew's mother didn't sit well with the angel. She was a woman whom he didn't like even when he was pretending to be a child. However, in order to be close to Matt, he had to endure that which was his mother. There were times that Azrael only met with Matthew at the park they met first at. Needless to say, Azrael didn't like the woman. Azrael sighed, this was proving to be a day of tense interactions after he mentioned his carefree response about liking guys. It was something Azrael should have realized wasn't going to be taken well, but a man could try, right? Azrael avoided the boy's gaze, seeing it almost all the time he brought up the subject. Perhaps he needed to show Matthew what it was like to be with a man? .....why is it that that sounds a little stalkerish and rapey? The angel mused to himself in his head as he closed his blue eyes. He heard the boy reply back. Azrael really needed to watch his words. However, the sharpness of Matthew's gaze shut him up for a few moments.

The boy pulled back, leaving Azrael to be alone on his part of the bench. A slight pinch came into the angel's heart as the act of pulling away physically hurt him. He didn't allow many into his heart, but when he did, he let those that had access to his heart mess with it. When Azrael had no emotional attachment to somebody, he felt nothing towards them and whatever they thought of him or said to him didn't cause the man any harm. Matthew had full access pass to his heart, and little actions like this hurt the angel though the man would never admit them out loud. As if on reflex, Azrael pulled out another cigarette from his box and lit it quickly. The vice was something he used to feel better. After about 100 years of all of his vices, this one he could not give up so easily. "Right, sorry man, my bad." It was all Azrael said about his statement. Though he told himself he'd find a way to have Matthew see what his true desires were. Inhaling the smoke, filling his lungs, staining them with the harsh chemicals humans use to poison themselves. Sin, it was what Azrael did, and what would be his downfall in the end.

The conversation quickly turned from one to another, a common theme when one of them was angry about a topic. Azrael didn't blink, he just went on with the conversation. Paradise Lost was something Azrael loved. It brought people together not for some single purpose, but multiple purposes and all sorts of people wanted came to the club for a way to get away from reality. It all felt like he was accepted there for who he was rather than who people wanted him to be. The Silver feathered angel who was soon to be a fallen one; his sins would soon catch up to him whether the higher beings wanted it to happen or not. He had thought he had told Matthew he owned part of it, but that could have slipped his mind. What better way to tell him than right now? "I don't just work there, I own it. An old friend of my family's and I started it up. I know, right? 18 years old and I own a nightclub. I doubt my Father approves." That last part had Azrael's voice dry. It was odd humor when Azrael brought up his supposed 'father', because the only father he had was his creator, God. He doubted God even heard him anymore these days. "I could take you there to dance and just forget your troubles. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. The people that work there are enjoyable people, you know?" Azrael had fun with his employees and friend and business partner, Dove.