You find yourself playing with her fingers again. Something about that smooth yet rough hand feels you with more love than ever. She is such a contradiction, and you know that. She is sat next to you, staring out of the bus as you both sit in peaceful silence. Never have you felt awkward in her presence, and you sincerely hope you never will. Hearing the bus rumble on, you intertwine your fingers with hers, marveling at how perfect your hand fits in hers. Just like how perfectly she fits with you. People do not understand the connection you have with the angel, but you have never expected them to understand for they are mortals, mortals who have their own set of worries and knowledge. Slowly, she leans towards you, resting her head on your shoulder. You hear her sigh, a tiny sigh of contentment. Resting your head on hers, you close your eyes and wish that the moment would never end. Playing with her fingers is one of your favourite pastimes now.