It was a quiet and average Sunday sermon in the Church. Until someone (you) shouted out "FUCK YOU SATAN!" while showing the middle finger.

The sermon has now ended, and it had started raining outside the Church, setting the mood perfectly after your little outburst. You hear the pitter patter of rain droplets hitting stained glass as you look up towards Father Amadeus, the priest of the Church and...well not exactly your dad, but he was your caregiver.

He had an expression of wary disapproval, his eyes half-lidded, the poor man was always tired from your antics. "Angel..." He paused, tasting the irony of calling you that, you were anything but. "Why did you think it was a good idea to shout that out during a sermon?" He said softly, almost a whisper.