There was a brief pause. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Noah grabbed his camera and turned back to her. "Now, if you'll-"
His voice died in his throat. Amanda stood before him, all traces of water gone. Her outfit had changed, too, in an instant - instead of the sodden black fabric, she was swathed in something that made her look like she had stepped out of a Romantic painting. The fabric looked lighter than cotton, and the gown was Grecian in design, hanging off of one shoulder and falling to whisper against the floor. A strange crest stretched on the dress from her shoulder down to her hip, the design twisting and writhing within the folds of the fabric.
What had him wheezing were the wings. Dappled brown stretched from her shoulders and arced over her head, and his eyes followed the swooping lines down to the floor. There were no indications of a harness on her, and hiding them would have been impossible. Not to mention it would have taken time to get something like that one, and it would have taken more than one person, and it would have been heavy...
"Noah? Noah, breathe."
He wheezed again. "Real. They're real."
"Of course they're...." she trailed off with a sigh. "Humans. They should have told you I was coming for you."
Noah heard footsteps, but he was busy wondering why little spots were appearing in his vision. There wasn't enough air. He had an honest-to-Go--honest-to-goodness angel in his studio and he couldn't focus enough to take at least one damn picture of her.
Something hit him between the shoulders with a dull 'fwoomp' and enough energy to force his lungs to at least pretend to cooperate. After another few lungfuls of air, his body started shutting down again while his mind raced at top speed.
"Noah, put your head between your legs. Breathe. I can't deal with you if you're unconscious."
He heard her swear right before the darkness at the edges of his eyesight claimed him completely.
#
Amanda studied the unconscious male before her and sighed, running a hand through her hair. Things were not getting off to a good start. She hadn't intended to frighten him, but when she'd learned that he'd not been told about what was going on...well, she was angry.
"You're welcome." Noah grabbed his camera and turned back to her. "Now, if you'll-"
His voice died in his throat. Amanda stood before him, all traces of water gone. Her outfit had changed, too, in an instant - instead of the sodden black fabric, she was swathed in something that made her look like she had stepped out of a Romantic painting. The fabric looked lighter than cotton, and the gown was Grecian in design, hanging off of one shoulder and falling to whisper against the floor. A strange crest stretched on the dress from her shoulder down to her hip, the design twisting and writhing within the folds of the fabric.
What had him wheezing were the wings. Dappled brown stretched from her shoulders and arced over her head, and his eyes followed the swooping lines down to the floor. There were no indications of a harness on her, and hiding them would have been impossible. Not to mention it would have taken time to get something like that one, and it would have taken more than one person, and it would have been heavy...
"Noah? Noah, breathe."
He wheezed again. "Real. They're real."
"Of course they're...." she trailed off with a sigh. "Humans. They should have told you I was coming for you."
Noah heard footsteps, but he was busy wondering why little spots were appearing in his vision. There wasn't enough air. He had an honest-to-Go--honest-to-goodness angel in his studio and he couldn't focus enough to take at least one damn picture of her.
Something hit him between the shoulders with a dull 'fwoomp' and enough energy to force his lungs to at least pretend to cooperate. After another few lungfuls of air, his body started shutting down again while his mind raced at top speed.
"Noah, put your head between your legs. Breathe. I can't deal with you if you're unconscious."
He heard her swear right before the darkness at the edges of his eyesight claimed him completely.
#
Amanda studied the unconscious male before her and sighed, running a hand through her hair. Things were not getting off to a good start. She hadn't intended to frighten him, but when she'd learned that he'd not been told about what was going on...well, she was angry.
