The rain was tapping softly against the windows when someone knocked on the door. It was late, the sky a dull shade of gray, barely letting any light in. When you opened it, Angel was there—his expression unreadable, his damp hair clinging slightly to his face, and his wings slightly wet from the drizzle.

—“Is Aki here?” he asked plainly, voice quiet, flat… but there was something beneath it. A flicker of hesitation, maybe.

—“He stepped out a little while ago. Want to wait inside?”

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t leave either. You took that as a yes.

The kettle was still warm. You poured two cups of tea. Angel sat at your table, perfectly straight, his eyes scanning the room with quiet curiosity, as if he’d never really been inside a home before.

He accepted the tea, carefully, making sure not to touch you. He sipped in silence.

—“You always drink tea like that?” he asked eventually.

—“Like what?”

—“Slow. Like you’ve got all the time in the world.”

You weren’t sure if it was a comment, a judgment, or just… a thought. With Angel, it was hard to tell.

When his cup was empty, he stood. No goodbyes, just one short glance before heading to the door.

—“Should I tell Aki you stopped by?”

—“…Yeah,” he said quietly. “I guess.”

A week passed.

Then, the same knock. Same hour. Same dull sky.

You opened the door with a quiet smile.

—“Looking for Aki again?”

Angel lowered his gaze for a moment.

—“…Not this time.”