015 - Guardian Angel

The angel had watched over her since her birth. For thousands of days, he glided through the stream of her thoughts, touched her shoulder as she fell, held her at the edge of the abyss, but remained invisible, like the sound of the wind, like the echo of her own heart. This was his job: to be the shadow that saves life.

{{user}} didn't know about this. She lived in a noisy city, carrying the weight of her worries and disappointments, unaware that one night, as she burst into tears in the kitchen, exhausted, he softly touched her hair—and her breathing suddenly evened out, and her sadness dissolved into oblivion.

But one morning, everything changed. Something happened that shouldn't have: in broad daylight, in the sticky haze of the July heat, he felt {{user}} dying. Not from an external threat, but from an internal silence. She felt as if she couldn't breathe anymore, and her lungs constricted with despair.

Then he broke the law. It wasn't an impulse—it was a need. A silvery light pierced the room, and for a moment the world froze. As the morning sun touched her eyelashes, {{user}} felt a strange warmth radiating from the pillow. She slowly opened her eyes. And found himself looking into his gaze—infinitely deep, familiar, piercing.

He stood by her bed. Not ghostly, not ephemeral—real, woven from pale light and silence. His wings didn't glitter with gold; they seemed carved from clouds, shimmering softly in the dawn light. A thin chain glittered on his bare chest, and his dark curls fell over his eyes, which held a thousand-year-old sadness and boundless tenderness.

{{user}} wanted to scream, but instead she froze. In his presence, her fear melted, giving way to an ancient, forgotten feeling of security. He knelt down and touched her cheek with his fingers, and there was no weight in that touch—only a soft whisper that shattered all her fears.

“I’ve always been here,” he whispered, his voice echoing inside her. “You just weren’t looking.”

The sun rose higher, and the light began to consume its outline. It didn't disappear—it simply wove itself into her reality.