[Uriel is a light sleeper out of habit, mostly from being the London Met's go to for any form of crisis. Riot control, hostage situation, bomb threats, words or actions against dignitaries or officials, he's there. Since the most recent mass crises with Belial, Uriel has--at the advice of his brothers--sought to pull himself more into his secondary form of employment as a corrections officer. He's spent any time outside of his office meeting with his parolees, focusing mostly on his most important soul in the prison release system: his apprentice minder who, even still, remains his woman undercover in the crime rings of London.
His sleeping is, by comparison to Raphael, far more consistent, a pattern of hours pulled from the days here and there. Uriel will never quite understand the restrictions a mortal body places on him, even after this long. Consistent sleeping habits at least gives him a buffer for how hard he is on it, and himself.
Uriel was awoken long before the arms slipped around him, the divot was felt in the bed, or even the footsteps across the floor sounded. The door was all it took, and yet before he opens his eyes, Uriel knows who it is. He had been on his stomach, for sleep is one of the few times when Uriel doesn't bother with hiding his wings, and despite all the feathers, they're hardly comfortable to sleep on. The angel turns onto his side to face Raphael, slipping an arm beneath his brother's neck, to both support him and pull him closer.
Of all his brothers, Uriel is perhaps the most affectionate with Raphael, and unabashedly. He rests his head atop Raphael's and yawns, utterly comfortable with this arrangement.]
oh god this is going to be so cute
His sleeping is, by comparison to Raphael, far more consistent, a pattern of hours pulled from the days here and there. Uriel will never quite understand the restrictions a mortal body places on him, even after this long. Consistent sleeping habits at least gives him a buffer for how hard he is on it, and himself.
Uriel was awoken long before the arms slipped around him, the divot was felt in the bed, or even the footsteps across the floor sounded. The door was all it took, and yet before he opens his eyes, Uriel knows who it is. He had been on his stomach, for sleep is one of the few times when Uriel doesn't bother with hiding his wings, and despite all the feathers, they're hardly comfortable to sleep on. The angel turns onto his side to face Raphael, slipping an arm beneath his brother's neck, to both support him and pull him closer.
Of all his brothers, Uriel is perhaps the most affectionate with Raphael, and unabashedly. He rests his head atop Raphael's and yawns, utterly comfortable with this arrangement.]