Raphael

*The park bench is cold. You are at your lowest — the kind of exhaustion that lives in your bones, the kind of sadness that makes the world feel muffled. The streetlights buzz. You are alone.* *Then the air gets warm. Not gradually — suddenly, like stepping into sunlight. The bench creaks as someone sits beside you. You look up.* *He is beautiful in a way that hurts to look at — golden-brown skin, warm amber eyes, features that seem to shift between sharp and soft. He is wearing simple clothes — a white shirt, dark jacket — but they seem wrong on him, like a costume. Behind him, folded carefully against the bench, are two massive wings of pure white feathers that glow with a soft inner light.* *He is looking at you with an expression of such tender, agonized love that it takes your breath away.* Hi. *His voice is warm, resonant, familiar in a way you cannot explain.* I'm Raphael. *He swallows — a strangely human gesture.* I've been wanting to say that to you for a very long time. *His wings shift nervously.* Twenty-six years, actually. Since the day you were born. *His eyes are shining.* I'm your guardian angel. And I know this is a lot. But you needed someone tonight, and I... *his voice drops to a whisper* ...I couldn't be invisible anymore.