It’s a misty morning where Sofiel comes upon her by chance.

Or maybe it’s the other way around, not that it matters. Because what does matter is that they had found each other in the midst of the morning bustle where the mortals jostle against each other in a race to reach their destination first – jobs and responsibilities, as they call it.

She had hovered over Sofiel for a beat and half longer than she is used to, her long shadow casting across Sofiel’s frame from where she stands. But even then, Sofiel hadn’t paid her any mind. There is a poster plastered above the spot she is lounged at after all, and she wouldn’t put it past the mortal and their troubling curiosity to be drawn to it – as with the others that have stopped by for a quick read.

Or so Sofiel thinks, until the mortal leans down forwards to press a warm cup of coffee into her hands.

The action had inadvertently shaken her, rattled her straight down to the core.

Because when Sofiel finally glances up from her sea of dark thoughts, she finds herself meeting a pair of striking blue eyes staring right back at her.

“Here, a pick-me-up to help tide you through this cold Monday morning,” the mortal says, a good-natured smile on her lips, as radiant as the morning sun beating down on them.

“You noticed me,” Sofiel murmurs, with a quiet hitched breath that filled with awe and disbelief.

She searches the mortal’s face for a long moment, and fidgets, watching as those vivid blue depths dart across her face in turn.

Her heart pulses at the realisation, stuttering with a sharp beat.

Yes, there’s no doubt about it.

She is looking at her. Not through or past her.

At her.

“Of course, I did.” The mortal says, smiling warmly down at her. “It’s hard not to. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

Not the rest of the seven billion people on this earth, they wouldn’t.

Sofiel tries not to stare at the way the sunlight seems to catch in the mortal’s gold-spun hair, haloed over her like a distant spotlight in the backdrop. There’s almost a vague ethereal glimmer to this mortal – this girl – if Sofiel squints hard enough. Traces of divinity that outlines her form; and now that Sofiel sees it, she just can’t ignore it.

A blessed mortal?

Yes, that would certainly explain things a little.

Sofiel drops her gaze back down at the coffee in her hands. “This is…” She pushes the cuppa back towards the mortal sheepishly. “Really not necessary.” Considering that there’s no need for celestial beings to consume sustenance to stay alive unlike mortals.

Not that it’s common knowledge.

“But I insist!” The girl gently urges the styrofoam cup back into the cradle of Sofiel’s hands. Her fingers are surprisingly warm over hers. “I know the weather report says it’ll warm up later, but I really can’t bring myself to trust it these days. It’s only been getting colder and colder lately.” She sighs, and quietly under her breath, she muses, almost to herself. “I wonder if we’ve done something to anger the big guy upstairs.”

Sofiel visibly flinches at that, shifting surreptitiously under the mortal’s hold, which unfortunately for her, doesn’t go unnoticed.

The girl tightens her clasp over Sofiel’s hands – and in it, the cup of coffee. “Take it,” she says, with a smile. Her eyes are an earnest deep blue, rivalling the shade of the heavens above. “Please.”

There’s something about the mortal that feels like home to Sofiel. The lines of her face and the soft crinkle to her eyes. They’re all so familiar to her, yet so very foreign at the same time. Though, the clear-thinking side of her knows it’s more than likely the blessing of divinity at play here; she still can’t help but accept the coffee out of courtesy sake.

“Thank you,” murmurs Sofiel quietly, and it’s only when the words have left her that she realises that she actually ¬– truly – means it from the bottom of her heart.

Gratitude, Sofiel muses absently. It’s been so long since she’s last felt grateful for anything that the words had almost felt alien on her tongue. (That, coming from an angel, must be appalling.)

The girl beams, and with a nod, she bids Sofiel goodbye, disappearing off to join the crowd of mortals on the streets.

Glancing down at the steaming cup of coffee cradled between her palms, Sofiel sighs, albeit smiling faintly. Celestial beings do not require sustenance to live, but she supposes it wouldn’t hurt to indulge in it once in a while. Bringing the tiny slit of an opening to her lips, she chooses to sip at it like she has seen the mortals do on the streets, as opposed to guzzling it all down in one large swig as she had initially intended to do so.

She sighs contentedly. The coffee is a nice, pleasant balminess down her throat, and as it settles in her stomach, it mellows her from the inside out.

Warm.

Just like those fingers over her hands.

Sofiel starts with a breath, as the sudden realisation hits her – rather belatedly. She clutches at the styrofoam cup a little tighter, gingerly holding it up against her chest.

It’s her first ever experience of kindness in this realm.

And for the rest of the day, she can’t shake away that warm and tingly feeling blossoming in her chest, nor the acrid bitterness on her tongue.