It was raining that day. It wasn't a particularly hard concept, those fat, wet drops that fell from the clouds like angels tears. We were used to it, jaded, and we knew its every cause and function, but we could do little to control it, only to build up small fortresses against its wetness and wait and watch it come and go as it pleased. The clouds hung low, and thick, and dark, as the rain fell from them. It didn't pour, but it was not a sprinkling shower either. It simply… fell. It lulled and rocked and rolled down window panes, fogging them up from the inside, so that small, idle children could trace pictures in the frosty glass. It fell, not silently nor loudly, but in a calm, rhythmic way that made the heart slow, and the mind wander.

A young man around twenty three knew this rain well. He walked the streets under a faded but still very vibrant umbrella with the Union Jack printed proudly on its protective surface. The man tried to look common, not too out of place, although it wouldn't matter either way. On top of his head sat a crop of unruly golden hair which stuck out unscrupulously, as if some magnificent glittering beast had taken residence on the mans scalp. Below it were thick eyebrows that, while somewhat odd and humorous, seemed to suit him, and made his face complete, somehow. Under the thick brows were a pair of emerald orbs, acidic green eyes which held something… something in them that appeared far, far beyond his years. He wore ordinary clothes, a black turtleneck, a long coat. All in all, he was fairly unnoticeable at first glance. Until one noticed the two relentlessly protruding wings that stuck out from his shoulder blades.

The mans wings were feathery and bright white in color, although a grey wetness hung at the lower tips, tainted from the ever perpetual rain. They moved as he moved, ruffled at chills as he shivered, and acted as much a part of him as his arms, chest or legs. He took no action to hide them, for it wasn't necessary. Humans couldn't see angels.

The thought saddened the man, but he knew this was his punishment. He had betrayed God, and for it, been sent to earth to repay his sin. The blue sky he'd loved in heaven was now gone, forever covered by perpetual grey. He'd forgotten what the color even looked like, and all that he saw in his mind was grey clouds, grey hills and cold, grey rain.

The humans passed him, and he they, and he was accustomed to this, and paid it little thought, although the sadness still ebbed as his heart every moment he went unnoticed. His green eyes were pensive and darkened as he kept a gaze firmly on the pavement, wings trailing behind him, feet shifting below, and perpetual drops of rain softly making repetitive tnks on his umbrella above him. To his left and right, a road, and a shop, but neither mattered. But if he had cared to think about what was ahead of him(and you may be perfectly glad he didn't) he might have stopped, changing not only that moment, but the course of history.

***Angels***

As the man stepped onto the street, he didn't notice the car speeding towards him. Just because Humans couldn't see him didn't mean they couldn't hurt him, and he very well might have died there, if it weren't for a voice that came suddenly.

"Sir, Look out!" Suddenly strong arms grabbed the man and pulled him out of the cars pathway. People stopped to gawk at the strange scene, which they saw as a man talking to air. Students who were just being dismissed from their lectures snorted and spat at the man, but this man wasn't someone to care about those things.

"Are you alright sir?" A young man with ashen hair who had a face that made you unsure whether to call him a boy or a man looked down at the surprised angel, adjusting his silver framed glasses.

The angel was speechless, staring into this mans eyes. There was that color again. That color the clouds always hid, that he had loved so dearly and lost so cruelly. That beautiful blue that reminded him of home, and safety and had always cheered him up when he was being picked on by the other angels in heaven. He gazed into those beautiful blue eyes, bewildered, and snapped out of it only when the man spoke again.

"Are you alright, sir?" The man said a little more worriedly. He checked himself and muttered something about "Concussions… warning signs…" the Angel had no clue what a Cun Cush Shun was, but it didn't sound pleasant. The angel hurriedly blurted without thinking.
"How can you see me?" His green eyes were wide with confusion and slight terror; after all, humans couldn't see him. So what was this man then? Was he not human?

The man straightened up, helping the angel to his feet and then straightening his tie. He was wearing a suit that he was clearly uncomfortable in, yet it looked good on him, and his long legs and arms were clearly muscular but not bulky. "I don't think that's really what's important right now… though… I suppose taking you to a hospital would be pointless since apparently only I can see you…" The man pondered while the angel just gazed at his sky blues and wondered what he was going to do next.

"Well, we can't stay out here forever." The man was right, the angels umbrella was ruined by the car and the man forgot his in his haste to help the angel. They walked a little way onto the campus that was close by, and the man led him into an apartment, number 7476.

It was a nice apartment, but judging from the lack of character or even trash the man rarely spent much time there. The rain pattered down a large bay window that overlooked a courtyard, and by the window there was an assortment of instruments, as well as some odd sports equipment. The walls were white and bare, save for one, old and quite tattered(but lovingly so) poster of a man in red, white, and blue uniform holding a shield that was also red, white, and blue, with a star in the center. It was clear it had been well cared for, and remained the only thing adorning the walls in the main room. There was a small hall with a bedroom and a bath, but it didn't seem like there was much else there.

The man disappeared into the restroom and came out a moment later with a towel around his shoulders, and dropped one onto the angels hair, fussing and drying it. The angel shoved at him and began to do it himself as a slight blush dusted his cheeks, so the man turned to the kitchenette and pulled out some mugs, filling and putting on a cheap looking kettle. "I usually just have coffee, but I think my brother probably stashed some tea here last time he came." The angel politely asked for the tea and the man set about making it.

Once he was done, he set the mug on the small table, barely big enough for two people and sat down in the chair opposite the angel. The angel took a sip of the tea. It tasted awful, but he was so elated by the gesture he didn't really mind all that much. He was simply high off the happiness of being seen so that everything radiated to him. He pondered, but remained silent, and after a moment or two of silence the man begin to speak.

The man explained that his name was Alfred F Jones. He was newly twenty, American, and a student teacher at the college, while he was getting his masters. He spoke quickly but was easy to listen to at the same time. He said that his mother had always wanted him to be a teacher since she never made it to college. He said it a little sadly, and it was obvious he had other dreams but he didn't complain about his situation, he merely explained it. The angel found himself hanging onto every word, and was so absorbed in his new acquaintances story that he could only jolt and blink in confusion when the man stopped and said "What about you?"

The man noticed his confusion and clarified. "I mean, what's your name? You're an angel, aren't you?"
The angel nodded, slowly, apprehensively. "My name… is Arthur," the angel said, looking down, wings quivering slightly. He looked up. "Are you my punishment?"

The younger man was confused and the angel hastily explained why he was on earth and how normally humans can't see angels. The pair of sky blues lit up instantly.

"Well maybe it's fate, y'know?" He grinned, and the angel felt his cheeks turning red. "You can stay the night if you want, it's gonna be dark soon anyway."
The angel declined politely, pointing out that the man only had one bedroom.

"It's cool, I'll take the couch, I always do when my bro's over anyway." The man grinned, pulling a blanket out of a closet and tossing it on the couch.

The angel nodded slightly, then paused. "Uhm… M-mister Jones?"

The man laughed with a laugh caught between attractive and annoying. "Call me Alfred, or even Al if you want."
"Right… Alfred." The angel corrected himself. "Thank you."

"No prob." Alfred switched on the television, and the station was in the middle of a classic movie marathon. Casablanca flickered to life on the screen and the black and white face of Rick smiled at his new companion for the thousandth time, but it always felt like the first. "…I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." The character said, but neither Alfred nor Arthur knew then how very right Rick was. Or how very, very fast it would all spiral into something much more than friendship.

***Angels***

Hey readers! I am so happy you read this, and if anyone has any thing to say please comment and follow! This is my first time doing a serial so I really hope you guys will stick with me through the story of these two. ;w;