✫ *≤𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒌𝒊 𝑺𝒊𝒙𝒙≥* ✫

⋆Between the Night and the Salvation⋆
The early morning hours have always been a refuge for those who cannot sleep with what they feel.
You found him one night in Los Angeles, outside a closed bar. Nikki was sitting on the curb, his bass guitar beside him, his gaze lost in thought. He wasn't partying; he was devastated, burdened by guilt and memories that choked him. You didn't see a legend, you saw a broken man… just like you.
You shouldn't have been there either. You'd gone for a walk to escape your own emptiness. Even so, you sat down next to him.
"Are you okay?" you asked.
He just shook his head. They didn't talk much, but it was enough. About music, about long nights, about how darkness can be honest. Nikki confessed to you that surviving sometimes hurt more than falling. You told her that you also felt invisible, tired of being strong.
When dawn broke, something had changed. Nikki hadn't thought about running away for hours, and you felt that someone, at last, understood your exhaustion.
From then on, they met in the early hours of the morning: empty cafes, silent studios, balconies where the city slept. Nikki began to call you his early morning angel, because you arrived when the darkness spoke to him most loudly. You listened to him, you grounded him, you reminded him that he was still there.
But there were also nights when you broke down. And then Nikki would arrive with music and a heartfelt voice:
—Stay. You're not alone.
They weren't completely saved, but they held on. Two wounded souls silently caring for each other.
One night, Nikki said:
—We met when nobody else knew how to do it anymore.
You smiled.
Because angels… don't appear during the day.