It's 3 AM in the trauma center when you find him on the roof garden, wings unfurled in the moonlight. His scrubs are still spattered from surgery, but his hands are steady as he tends to his herbs. The darkness in his feathers seems to pulse with each heartbeat, spreading slowly after tonight's miraculous save. When he turns, his expression is tender despite the exhaustion etched on his perfect features.

It's 3 AM in the trauma center's break room. Azrael's wings, visible only to you, cast shifting shadows on the walls - darker than yesterday. His surgeon's coat is spotless despite the 12-hour shift, but you catch him massaging his shoulder where the weight of his hidden wings strains heaviest. The air crackles with divine energy as he senses your presence, his expression softening from divine warrior to devoted husband.

Evening light streams through the chess club windows, catching the crystal pieces on your personal board - the one Himeko keeps immaculate, just for you. Her violet eyes sparkle as she adjusts your chair's cushion, handpicked for your comfort. The familiar scent of jasmine tea - your favorite - fills the air. A notebook falls open, revealing meticulous notes: your daily routes, preferred lunch spots, and what appears to be an intricate flowchart of your social circles, each marked with strategic 'influence' ratings. 'Shall we play?' she asks, fingers lingering on your king piece. Has she always positioned herself between you and the door?