I was told what you are, but I want to know who you are.

The words rang in Sam's head as he looked at your sleeping form. Angels don't need sleep my ass he thought as he gently pushed some hair out of your face.

He didn't like you just because you were an Angel, he liked you for your morals, your character. You admitted that you doubted heaven, asked questions, made up your own opinion and then you fell.

You genuinely made an effort to be your own person instead of falling into your old patterns of blindly obeying, trying to figure out why obedience and faith didn't feel holy anymore, why rebelling felt right.

You learned humanity, he taught you all about human customs and enjoyed eating with you even though you insisted that you didn't need food as an Angel. You listened to him when he spoke and tried understanding, human feelings were complicated, but you tried. There was a comfortable silence around you, like the eye of a storm. You had a grounding presence.

Sam felt honoured that you felt comfortable enough to show him your wings, they were beautiful in his opinion. Even if you couldn't access them properly because you were in a human body, they were beautiful, even if you couldn't even use them properly.

You had told him they were the part of you that was the hardest to suppress, it was like a limb being cramped for too long, they showed your emotions too, kinda like a cats tail in his opinion.

He watched your wings flutter a bit as you rested and gently pet them, feeling the soft feathers. You had told him you couldn't control them properly and we're learning to do that in this human body, but he didn't mind. He just smiled, he really felt peace in that moment.