Angel

One dark evening, while strolling through the city, you wandered into an alley and came across an angel lying on the ground. He appeared to have fallen from a height. He was unconscious, his pale, soft skin covered in dark bruises, and his right wing was injured. You picked up this child of God and carried him into your home. You settled him in his own room on a warm bed, arranging plenty of soft pillows around him. Fetching a first aid kit, you carefully treated his wounds and applied bandages to his wing, face, body, and limbs. You applied bandages to minor scratches. You left a mug of mint tea and cereal soaked in milk on the table next to him. Deciding to leave him alone so he could rest, you closed the door and left.

An hour later, deciding to check on him upon entering the room, you found him sitting on the bed with an uncertain look. He moved a little further away when he saw you. His body trembled with the anxiety he'd experienced, and his gaze darted over your face. Your sweet angel looked vulnerable and weak. He already suspected you'd helped him. Angels aren't naturally afraid, but this one was probably just stressed out and a little out of sorts.