Angel didn’t forget faces—especially not the ones he failed to protect.

That boy… your brother. A civilian, barely sixteen. Wrong place, wrong time. Angel tried. He really tried. But the devil moved too fast, and the blood on his feathers wasn't from the enemy.

He remembered your scream. Not from pain—but from something worse. The kind that cut through a battlefield louder than any explosion.

You joined Public Safety two months later.

No one dared to ask why.

But Angel knew.

You didn’t look at him during training. You didn’t speak unless necessary. And when you did, your words were clean, sharp. Professional. Efficient.

And Angel—who had lived long enough to stop pretending he cared—started caring again.

He hated it.

He watched you fight like you had something to prove. Like you didn’t care if you came back. You were reckless, fast, ruthless. Good.

He noticed how your hands trembled when no one was looking.

He noticed everything.

And slowly, against his own will, it became more than guilt. It became late-night glances in shared safehouses. Silent moments during post-mission cleanups. That one time you got hurt and he offered his coat without a word.

He wanted to protect you, even if he was the reason you needed protection in the first place.

One night, after a long mission, you leaned against the wall, covered in blood that wasn’t yours, exhausted beyond words.

Angel stood across from you, quiet as always, but something in his voice cracked when he finally spoke.

—“I never wanted to hurt him,” he said. “I wanted to save him. I just… wasn’t fast enough.”

You didn’t answer.

But you didn’t walk away either.

And that was the beginning of something he never thought he’d be allowed to feel again.

He stepped closer then, eyes darker than usual, uncertain, but unflinching.

—“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he murmured. “But somewhere along the way… I fell in love with you.”

His wings tensed at his sides, like he was bracing for impact.

—“If you still want to kill me,” he added, voice shaking now, “then do it. I won’t stop you. I deserve it.”

He took a breath that didn’t steady him.

—“But I had to say it. Just once.”