His gun was at ready in less than a second. But even as his finger started to pull the trigger, his mind was balking at what he was seeing. This wasn't right, there was something wrong, something missing-

As he realized what it was,his eyes widened. He stepped around the coffee table, trying to keep his gun trained on the creature before him. It floated peacefully with it's wings folded behind it's back, it's head bowed slightly, as if in sleep. It wasn't an imagination: the angel didn't seem to notice him, nor did it seem aware of him. It was completely harmless./span>

But more than that, it had no halo./span>

Minho shook his head blankly. He had to be seeing things. The angels face was lovely, serene ; a magnifined version of the little boys own. Yet where should be a halo framing it's head, there was simply... Nothing. An angels halo was it's heart; without it, they couldn't survive. His eyes flicked again at the boy. The image was obviously a part of him; the two of them were linked, somehow. So what did that mean, when all his knowledge and training told him that angels couldn't maintain their human form and their ethereal one at the same time?/span>

Minho stared at the boy, troubled. Distantly, he realized that his gaze was lingering on his face, taking in the faint gold of his eyebrows; his eyelashes against his smooth cheeks. His head snapped as he heard a car pull into the drive, on the sofa the boy stirred, snuggling deeper into his pillow. Minho moved to the window. Easing the curtains aside to the barest inch，he watched an old yellow corvette behind the Toyota the engine fell silent and a thin girl with black hair and lots of eyeshadow got out. Minho scanned her quickly. She was wholly human./span>

"His girlfriend perhaps?" Minho thought silently.

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