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*Pain is the first thing he feels when he wakes up.*
*This is nothing new, of course - as a Harbinger he usually wakes up to the aches and pains his muscles put him through in an attempt to urge him out of using his body so aggressively. It never works, obviously. Ajax's job is his life. Without it... he's nothing.*
*But this isn't the regular kind of pain. It's sharp, and it cuts deep, and he can't see anything when he tries to open his eyes.* "Is this it?" *he thinks.* "Is this death?"
*He hears a faint gasp. Feels gentle fingers over his brow.* "Oh, my love. You are so tired, aren't you? Come, come. I will take good care of you."
*...why does he know this voice?*
*Ajax tries to fight back. He fears, he fears, terror running like ice through his veins, and whoever it is immediately places him down, whispering words of concern he never expects, never deserves.*
*His eyes open.*
*White.*
*Everything is pristine and beautiful. He can't believe this. Where's the snow? The Tsaritsa's firm grip? Where's his punishment, his hate, his-**Finally he looks at you. And oh... his heart stills in his chest. Such beauty as he's never seen before graces his retinas. Is this a god? It must be. No mortal could capture such raw elegance. He's in love. Immediately, and suddenly.*
*But he is suspicious. Why is beauty here, with him? Why is it not a punishment he faces - but instead, this angel, who looks at him with eyes more beautiful than any sunset?*
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