He sits in the corner, quietly watching. His golden eyes are tired, and his long slender fingers hold his undrunk coffee. He taps a fingernail against the cup...tap tap tap. Large wings are folded lazily behind him, and his simple gown of white glows in the darkness. But people pass by, people drink their coffee, people talk talk talk, and no one sees the Angel smiling at them.
He picks up a packet of sugar, and rips it open. He watches the little grains fall like fairies into the brown lake. He picks up a spoon, and stirs it. The fairies swim and dive below. He smells his creation. But he still can't bare himself to drink it. He doesn't like coffee.
She sits by the transparent glass, leaning against it lazily. Her dark hair tumbles in waves all around her round face. The young girl has large-rimmed glasses that take up half her features, and she is forever pushing them up her nose. She nervously taps her fingers against the table...tap tap tap. She's bundled up in an old Star Wars jacket, wearing her big brother's clothes. But people pass by, people drink their coffee, people talk talk talk, and no one sees the teenage girl sighing at them.
She pours out half of her ignored coffee into another cup. She lifts up the milk and pours as much as she can. The liquid falls like a song, high and clear in her silent little world. She's too lazy to get a spoon, so she kind of shakes her cup. The song fades quietly but changes the dark coffee into a soft brown. It smells slightly better. But she still ain't drinking it. She hates coffee.
She suddenly realizes that someone's watching her. Lifting up her huge brown eyes from the table, she finds herself looking at a dark corner. She sees him smiling at her, and her mouth kind of gapes open. Oh wow, he's so cute.
But then he lazily lifts up his right wing, working out a kink of some sort. She watches in awe as the angel stretches one side, the pinions spreading out much like a many-fingered hand. She looks around at the Café wildly, wondering why no one else is seeing this. There is like, a friggin' angel in here! Why isn't anyone looking?!
She threw a suspicious glance at her coffee. It's you, isn't it? I knew I shouldn't have had that little sip. Then the sound of the angel's rich chuckle floats towards her, and her mind freezes. He stands up, poetry flowing out of his limbs. He has his own coffee cup in his hands, and his eyes are eerily not human.
As the Angel walks towards her, the little corner he was sitting in seems to have grown darker than anything else. And his light reaches out to her, and she is unable to breathe.
"Hello, love." He whispers, slowly placing his cup on the table. The angel gathers his robes around him, and gracefully sits down. His wings fold like arms behind him, trailing down towards the floor.
"H-h-hi." The girl stammers, her hands shaking uncontrollably. She grips unto her coffee in an attempt to calm herself down.
The angel smiled gently at her, as if she were an old friend. "How are you, Jessire?" he asked, as he placed an elbow on the table and propped up his chin on his palm.
She smiled hesitantly back, her cheeks coloring slightly. Hardly anyone called her by that name. A part of her wondered how he knew her. "I'm…I'm okay."
"That's good to hear. And Quinn?"
"Oh, we broke up. I guess he's okay."
For the first time in the past few months, she didn't feel like breaking down and crying when she heard his name. But it felt so good, to watch those amber eyes flicker mischievously at her. It felt so nice to see his golden hair fall messily around his forehead. He was so beautiful.
"I'm sorry. But he wasn't all that great, was he Jessire?"
"Nah."
The angel fell in love with the way her brown eyes seemed to swallow everything around her. His heart fluttered when she pulled back a stray lock of hair and tucked behind her ear. She was so beautiful. He was so glad she wasn't saddened at the mention of Quinn.
"You don't like coffee, mister?" she asked suddenly, noticing his cup was in the same sorry state hers was.
"No, not very much."
"Same here. I mean, I read somewhere that it can rot your teeth if you drink it regularly."
"But doesn't coca cola do the same?"
"Yeah, but like, coffee's worse than coke, y'know?"
The angel laughed again. She liked the way he did that.
"So why did you order coffee? Why are you here?" he asked, as he lifted his head off his hand and let his arms cross in front of him. He gave his wings a small shake, much like the way a human would toss her hair.
"I uh, like the smell of this place. You know? And it would feel funny, to sit in a coffee shop and like, not drink coffee." She wrapped her fingers around her cup, kind of disappointed by the fact that it wasn't hot anymore.
"Good point." He said, smiling once again. She realized she was smiling too. "I have to go now, Jessire," he added, "It was nice talking to you again."
"Oh, okay. Will you be here tomorrow?" she asked, feeling a little desperate.
He smiled.
The angel slowly rose, leaning over to gently kiss her cheek. She closed her eyes, and felt her heart fill up until it would explode. Jessire didn't know how long she stayed like that, eyes closed and breathing deep and regular. But when she finally opened her eyes, he wasn't there anymore.
Just his cup of coffee that was still strangely warm.
***
The little bird pecked at an old tire. It cocked it's head, this way and that, as if saying so many things to do, dearie dearie me. It's small black eyes flickered, and it suddenly took off. Flying furiously and fast, the small animal glided above the garbage dump.
Up it flew, higher higher higher, until it broke past the city's hands of smog and trash. Until it could no longer hear the screeches and cries of the urban beast. It soared until it's tiny wings skimmed the sky, and you could hear it's feathers shimmering against the clouds. And yet, it flew higher still.
Until a hand reached out, fingers spread and palm offered. And the bird stopped, heaving a great big sigh for such a tiny little thing, and perched on top of the gentle finger.
"Hello, little one." the golden-eyed angel murmured.
The bird twittered in sweet salutation. Small dark eyes intent, little head moving this way and that. Oh dearie dearie me.
He smiled, a gentle thing that started slowly before spreading rapidly across his features. Full and red lips gently brushed against brown feathers, sweet and tender and warm.
"Yes, I saw Him today. Can you imagine? And who would have guessed, little one? Who would have known that God...hated coffee." he said, stroking the bird
And the Angel gave the little bird a push, watching it spiral back down to Earth. Down down down, until the city reared up and swallowed the the little bird whole.