THIRD PERSON POV
Morning sun filtered through the thin curtains, brushing the small apartment in soft gold.
Gabriel moved quietly in the tiny kitchen, the faint sizzle of the pan and the smell of cooking eggs filling the air.
His movements were precise, calm—the morning ritual grounding after the chaos of last night.
A soft murmur broke the silence.
Ethan shifted on the floor, half-awake, tangled in the blanket like a cat that refused to acknowledge morning had arrived. "Mmm… Angel… hmm…" he mumbled, voice low and groggy, eyes still barely cracked open.
He blinked slowly, vision clearing.
And there he was Gabriel, standing at the stove, focused, hands deftly flipping eggs with the kind of efficiency that shouldn't be attractive but somehow was.
Ethan's heart skipped.
He's real… I'm really here… with him. Not a dream.
Before his brain could catch up, before he could even think it through, Ethan swung his legs off the floor wincing slightly at the protest from his ankle stumbled forward, and wrapped his arms around Gabriel from behind.
His head rested against Gabriel's back, warm and firm, and he let out a soft, satisfied sigh.
Gabriel stiffened, a low, startled breath escaping him. "Hey—"
"Shh…" Ethan murmured, eyes closing again, sleepy grin tugging at his lips. "Don't move… I'm… here. Morning hug. Just… just hug…"
Gabriel cleared his throat, trying—and failing to sound unaffected.
"Seriously… are you always like this? Kiss a stranger, sleep in their home… aren't you afraid of anything?"
Ethan lifted his head just enough for Gabriel to catch the lazy, half-awake grin spreading on his lips.
"You're not bad, Angel, are you?" he murmured.
A small chuckle vibrated against Gabriel's back.
"Besides… I already told you—love at first sight."
He smiled, soft and shameless.
Gabriel's jaw tightened. Irritated. Confused. Maybe… something else.
Hands hovered for a moment, caught between instinct and patience.
Then slowly, carefully, he rested them lightly on Ethan's arms, steadying him.
Silence settled comfortable yet charged.
The hum of the pan in the background blended with the rapid beat of Ethan's heart pressed against Gabriel's spine.
Ethan's lips brushed lightly against Gabriel's back in a fleeting, almost-thoughtless gesture. "Best… sleep ever… Angel," he whispered.
Gabriel exhaled softly, dark eyes narrowing just a fraction as he felt the warmth of Ethan's body cling to him.
This kid… reckless, impulsive… and utterly impossible to ignore.
The smallest twitch of a smile formed at the corner of his lips.
Ethan finally loosened his grip, leaning back slightly but keeping one hand on Gabriel's arm like he couldn't quite let go yet. "Breakfast smells… really good," he murmured, still half in dreams, eyes bright with mischief.
Gabriel glanced down at him once, expression unreadable but firm. "Sit. Eat. And don't cling like that. You'll burn my patience before the coffee does."
Ethan grinned lazily, swaying slightly on his feet. "No promises, Angel. But… I'll try."
Gabriel set the plate on the small table with quiet precision, placing it neatly before the floor where Ethan had claimed his territory.
Ethan perched there with his blanket bunched around him like a throne he'd fashioned out of stubbornness.
"After you eat," Gabriel said, voice low, measured, calm as steel, "you leave. That's the agreement. Just for tonight. Floor, breakfast, and then you go."
Ethan's eyes widened—fake despair creeping in like a soap opera actor hitting their mark. "I… I don't have anyone here, Angel. I don't know where else to go." He tilted his head, letting his hands tremble slightly as he massaged his injured leg for effect. "God really pities me and… and sent you… and now you're trying to get rid of me?"
Gabriel's dark eyes flicked to him, unimpressed. "Sit."
His voice was firm—no room for argument.
Ethan huffed, glancing at the plate of eggs and toast like it might solve all his problems if he just looked at it hard enough.
Slowly, reluctantly, he lowered himself onto the floor, wincing theatrically as he straightened his leg.
"See? I can't run with this leg," he muttered, pointing at his swollen ankle. "Those kidnapper guys—or whatever—might still be out there. And me… alone?" He shook his head dramatically. "I'll be gone before breakfast even ends."
Gabriel leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with that quiet intensity that made Ethan's pulse quicken. "You'll eat. Then you leave. No dramatics, no excuses."
Ethan gave a long, exaggerated sigh, propping himself on one elbow. "You're cold, you know? Heartless. Angel-heartless. And here I thought… you know… maybe I found a protector."
Gabriel's lips twitched—just barely. Almost a smirk. "Protector or not, your safety ends at this table."
Ethan grinned despite himself, cheeks warming. "Fine, fine… but only because breakfast smells amazing, Angel. I'll play your rules… for now. But after… don't think this is over."
Gabriel's gaze darkened a fraction—steady, unyielding. "I never said it was over. Just that you're leaving."
Ethan took a tentative bite, wincing dramatically when his leg shifted, but keeping his eyes locked on Gabriel. "Mm… fine, fine… but you have to admit… letting me stay—even just a night—was kind, Angel. Really kind. Hero-level kind."
Gabriel didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch while he watched Ethan eat. Inside, the memory of that reckless kiss and the way Ace—had clung to him in the alley tugged at something he didn't want to admit.
Ethan caught the look, grin spreading mischievously. "You're thinking, Angel. You always think. Hmm… plotting your next move, aren't you?"
Gabriel's eyes flicked up—sharp, unreadable. "Eat."
Ethan laughed softly, settling into the food while keeping a sly, curious eye on him.
This night… this Angel… unpredictable and impossible… but I kind of… like it.
They ate slowly, no rush, letting the quiet of the small apartment settle around them like a blanket.
Forks clinked softly. The faint hum of the city drifted in from outside.
Ethan nibbled at his food, sneaking glances at Gabriel every now and then, as if daring him to look away first.
"Mm… good," Ethan murmured between bites. "Really… really good." He looked up, grin tugging at his lips. "Angel, you cook like this often? Or just when I'm here?"
Gabriel's lips twitched briefly. "Rarely."
Minutes—or maybe hours, Ethan wasn't sure—passed in the slow rhythm of breakfast.
Each bite punctuated by silent glances, small smirks, playful jabs that neither acknowledged but both felt.
Finally, Gabriel pushed back slightly, standing.
"Done," he said simply.
Ethan blinked, stretching one leg out with exaggerated care. "Mm… done?"
Gabriel's gaze stayed sharp, calm, voice low and even. "Done. That's the agreement. You leave."
Ethan's mouth hung open, fork halfway to his lips. Then, with dramatic flair worthy of an award, he shifted in his seat, clutching his leg. "Oww… seriously, my leg… it hurts… I can't… I mean, really… Angel… can't I stay just a little longer?"
Gabriel reached over, handing him his phone without a word. "Call your friend. Make plans. Then go."
Ethan took it, tapping numbers slowly, deleting, groaning. "Ugh… I… I can't remember the number. I really can't…" He sighed, frustration laced with playful defeat.
Gabriel tugged his wrist gently but firmly, then gave a push toward the door. "Out. Now."
Ethan stumbled slightly, muttering complaints as he reached the threshold. "But… I don't know anyone here… just got back yesterday… my phone's gone… I just want to heal… Angel, seriously…"
His voice carried genuine exhaustion now—beneath the performance, there was real uncertainty.
Something in Gabriel softened. Just enough.
He exhaled quietly, stepping aside, opening the door wider—then pulling Ethan back inside instead of pushing him out.
The moment Ethan crossed the threshold again, Gabriel pressed him gently but firmly against the wall, eyes sharp, intense, close enough that Ethan's breath caught.
"Stay," Gabriel said, voice low, dangerous, deliberate. "But only until evening. Cross the line, and you're gone. No excuses. When evening comes, you leave. Understood?"
Ethan's eyes lit up mischief sparkling even through the ache in his leg. "Understood… Angel."
He smirked, whispering under his breath where Gabriel couldn't quite hear, heart thumping wildly. No intentions of leaving… not today. You really are an angel.
Gabriel's jaw clenched, dark eyes scanning him once more.
There was a quiet, unspoken acknowledgment in that gaze a line drawn, but also an invitation neither would admit aloud.
Just until evening, he'd said.
But even that small concession carried weight.
Ethan leaned slightly, shoulder brushing Gabriel's, savoring the closeness, the warmth, the quiet tension that filled the narrow space between them.
I'm staying. And he can't stop me.
Gabriel held his gaze for one beat longer, then stepped back, releasing him.
"Don't make me regret this," he muttered.
Ethan's grin widened. "Too late, Angel. You already do."