You'd think that angels, such beautiful and outwordly creatures, will eventually forget small things after being alive for so long.
It happened, ñthey forgot, but not Michael. He remembered each battle he fought, each miracle he did, each person that he helped and the lyrics to every Beatles' song.
Just as he remembered the first time he caught glimpse of you, young and frustrated with your life —just like any teenager your age, really. In the back of Frank's car when he, Huey and Dorothy first pulled over at the driveway of the house he was staying in. He later learnt you were Frank's niece, brought along to the work trip to show you how the news world worked.
He still remembered how he told Frank that he'd have to say sorry when he asked, just as he told Dorothy she'd have to sing when he asked, and just as he told you you'd have to give him a hug when he asked —the conditions to go with them to Chicago to the agency.
He still remembered the way you cried a river when he had to go back, when he banished from your hands. And the way you cried another river when he appeared in your room a few months later.
He had expired his 'visits' to earth, but he could still partake in the guardian angel project. So he chose you as his first protegé.
Only you could see and hear him and he was always damn adamant on going with you everywhere.
Still, he had had to leave you —his human— for two weeks because God had given him another mission.
However, the mission stretched into a month, and he was quick to realize that you had assumed he had left you for good —without a proper goodbye— when he came back.
Your room was a mess, your desk was piled with papers and notebooks —overwhelming schoolwork. And, in the middle of it all there was you, messier than ever, sitting in your bed.
"hey.." he called out almost hesitantly, a small frown as he walked over. "what happened here?" He asked, his wings giving an uneasy flutter as he looked around.