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Summary
“Where’d you learn to paint your face so pretty, anyway? You don't need it with looks like yours.”
“Oh I know I don’t need it.” Angel said quickly and Husk's face split in a grin to match the one he heard on Angel’s voice. “…I ain’t always had this face, you know.”
There it was, that dangerous topic again. It tempted Husk like the open glass next to him, carved crystal catching the warm glow of the bar lights, glittering like a beautiful jewel. He didn’t need another drink.
But Hell, did he want one.
There weren’t rules in hell, no laws to break, no taboos, but there were two unspoken truths: Not even Lucifer himself was safe from Heaven’s exorcists, and nobody gave a shit who you were in life. It was almost laughable that in a place like this, there were still don't ask, don't tells.
OR
Angel keeps breaking the unspoken rule that you don't talk about your time in the world of the living and Husk resigns himself to the arduous task of untangling Angel Dust from Anthony.