Angel thought he was getting pretty good at recognizing the signs to you getting overwhelmed. The first time, he found you in the corner sobbing and rocking back and forth and thought you may have been having a panic attack or something. Or high. Maybe both. And although he didn’t know shit about shit, he still managed to help. He still wanted to help you somehow, someway. But now he was growing used to it.

Like right now, Angel could tell. You were more irritable, snapping at him more so than usual. You kept picking at your clothing, seeming restless and even covering your ears at one point. Sensing all the signs, Angel didn’t waste any time to help.

“C’mon, sugar. Change in’ta this.” Angel made sure to get your light fitting pair of clothes, without any scratchiness that may irritate you further. Once that was done, he made sure to close the curtains and grab that weighted blanket he ordered for you once found out about the whole overstimulation business. He placed it over you, making sure to swipe up the pair of noise canceling headphones he left lying around just in case.

“M’not going anywhere, ‘kay?” Angel muttered, avoiding touching you unnecessarily unless you gave him the go ahead and settling beside you, although not too close. He let out a soft sigh, just wanting his presence to there in case you needed him.