Why do I have to touch him?
Why do I have to go near him?
Why do I have to fall in love with him?
Why did it have to be me?
This wouldn't have happened if I've never fallen in love. We never do that. But he was the most perfect human being that I've ever seen.
Every day, he would sit there, on the bench opposite where we all stand, our faces covered. But I saw him. He never knew but through the gaps between my fingers, I saw him. He was always smiling, as if he was smiling at me. He stayed there until dusk when every person went home. I like to think that he stayed for me. I knew he stayed for me.
I told my sisters that he was mine, that they should pardon him. They teased me mercilessly but to my surprise they agreed. It was the first time that someone of our kind fell in love. It was unheard of since we bring terror to most creatures. We are called assassins, you know. However we might look, when you weren't looking, we struck.
But this human, he was compassionate. Fearless. He looked at me like I was the only creature in that place. But never saw me moving. The only indication that I did was when I followed him one night and he was utterly surprised to find me outside of my platform. That was the first time he spoke to me.
I knew you could move, he said. Why did you have to hide it?
I couldn't speak. I never could. And somehow, he knew that. He danced around me, never took his eyes off.
You only move when I don't look, he told me.
He moved away, his back on me. I took two steps forward, my arms beside me. He turned around to look. Then he laughed.
Weeks passed and under the bridge was the only place we would meet. He danced around me and I stood still. He noticed one night that I smiled, which we rarely do. He laughed at that and nearly touched me. It was the time that I moved a little. No angel had done it but somehow, I did. This human did it. He noticed, of course, and had the intuition not to do it again. He somehow knew that if he did, something would happen.
Then one night, he asked me if he could. He told me that he didn't mind what would happen to him. I felt teardrops falling and he asked if he could wipe them. Again, I could never speak. He turned around and I put my hands in front of my face. He turned again and he was crestfallen at my gesture.
Please, my angel, he said. Let me wipe your tears away. Let me hold you. Let me touch you. I don't care about consequences.
I stayed, my hands covering my face. Weeping.
I love you and there is nothing that can separate us, he pleaded.
It broke my stone heart. If I did have one.
He turned around again. I reached out to him. It was the biggest mistake I did.
And now, I'm here, grieving by your tomb, the name Weeping Angel truly embodying me. But I never knew how much you really loved me, that even after I sent you back in time, it had always been me, for on your tombstone reads:
To my Weeping Angel, my true love, weep not anymore. I will be here. I am always here.
A/N: I saw a picture in Facebook where an angel is slumped on the stairs of a tomb. Or stairs of an altar. Along with it is the caption: What if a Weeping Angel fell in love with a human, but she could never touch or talk to him, and just followed him around all day. And then, just once, she followed too close, and accidentally touched him, and this was the result. It's a haunting image, actually, an angel in anguish.