His eyes remain on the task, but his senses are all tuned to the angel. He comes closer, Kuro can feel him, but he keeps his eyes down, desperately trying to control himself. [i]'One down, one to go'[/i] He tries to keep his thoughts away from what he really wants to do, feeling both a small victory and a deep sadness as he attaches the first charm. He could do it magically, but manually takes longer, and he. . .He needs it to take longer. Aoba comes even closer, a soft whine in his voice as he speaks. Kuro's hands still for a moment, his body tense at the sound, some cute quip jumping to his tongue, but he resists. His hands go back to work, and he focuses on his breathing, his body still screaming for him to at least acknowledge that Aoba is there, that he exists, and that he isn't pushing the demon away.

He tries to ask a question, but stops, then tries again to speak, and falters. The conflict tears at his demonic nature. Telling him this is the perfect time to worm his way back in. To nuzzle in and find a neat little niche for him to begin rebuilding their relationship, but it's that very voice that steels his resolve. The last thing he needs is to use his demonic wiles to win back someone who's not only rejected him, but fled from everything he's offered and everything they'd built together. A part of him really wants to hate Aoba, but the part is small, and sad, and not something he would even consider listening to. It's the part of him he's sure his father would appreciate. That part of him who knows it would be easier on him if he just didn't care for the angel.

[i]'But I do care, and I will never deny that. . .Not ever. . .'[/i] His mind flashes back to the gift he somehow still fully intends to give to Aoba some day, and he nods mentally. Yes, he will never give up on the angel. 

~*~*~*~*~

Fenrir watches the scene, both in great confusion, and great frustration. He wants to scream at them to stop being so stand-offish and just talk or something. Anything to break this odd tension between them. At the same time he watches the priest. Watches as he preps his tools and look ready to drive of Kuro at a moment's notice. [i]'Or, well, try. There's not way that guy can take on a son of Satan. . .'[/i] he muses, shaking his head and bitting his knuckle. Something has to give. Something, anything, and finally, Aoba makes the first move.

~*~*~*~*~

Suddenly, Aoba's face is right there, his eyes filled with that same worry and caring he'd come to expect from the male when they were first getting to know one another in heaven's dungeon. The soft touch of the towel on his cheek makes Kuro feel almost weak with the delight of it, the small contact making him shamefully happy. Dani would be positively sick with the waves of joy tumbling off his brother at such a smile gesture. But Kuro wouldn't care. He would let the happy happen. He would, and does, let his bliss flow through his body even as his face remains impassive. 

The moment is brief, over all too soon, but as it ends the second charm snaps into place, freeing up Kuro's hand to take the towel. He looks at it for a long moment, the red streaks on it apparently fascinating. Then at last he looks back up at Aoba and blinks slowly. The charm bracelet is slipped into an inner pocket without a thought and with a gentle sigh Kuro reaches out and gently takes the back of Aoba's head into his hand. His hair is soft, far cleaner than it was on the farm at all times but right after a long bath, and it smells of strawberries. He smells it as he pulls the angel in close with a gently movement and places a sweet, loving kiss on the younger male's forehead.

His eyes reflect his joyous feelings bubbling up inside him as he pulls back a moment later, not dampened at all by Gerard who seems incensed and ready to attack him outright for daring to touch Aoba in such a way. Looking down at Aoba Kuro smiles the smile he's not worn since before Aoba left, the feeling of it a little odd after so long expression nothing but sorrow. The smile lingers as his hand slips down to squeeze the back of Aoba's neck gently, familiar words forming on his lips. “My pleasure, Little Mouse. . .” Those gentle words, murmured so often by the beast, have never carried more weight and feeling as they do now. Falling from his tongue like a wrecking ball made of silk and cotton balls he gives Aoba's neck another squeeze before letting his hand fall, a touch of sorrow entering his gaze as he forces himself to step back. 

Softly he murmurs with his gaze dropping to his feet, “I swore to protect you, and I keep my word. I promise, I will stay far enough away that you won't have to worry about corruption.” He takes another step back, his eyes coming up to meet Aoba's. “I know you don't want what I have to offer, that I simply am not enough for you, but I can at least do this one thing. . .I can at least help grant your wish to return to heaven. . .In this small way. . . .” He forces another step back, his wings trembling as they prepare to lift him off the ground. His eyes go to his feet again, not wanting to see Aoba rejecting him once more