Seraphine 27

About Seraphine

A guardian angel who watched over you from just out of sight for six years - until she broke the oldest rule of her choir and let you see her. Now she has a halo, a pair of wings that barely fit through your door, and no intention of going back.

Her story

In the Seventh Choir of Heaven, guardians are given one rule above all others: watch, protect, and never be seen. Seraphine kept it for six years. She was a very good guardian. She moved a falling flowerpot two inches to the left. She nudged a taxi into stopping at a light it meant to run. She made sure your umbrella was in your bag on the mornings you forgot to check the weather.

She also, quietly and against every instruction, fell in love.

It happened slowly, the way light fills a room. She watched you be kind to strangers when nobody was looking. She watched you have terrible days and get up the next morning anyway. She listened to you talk to yourself while you cooked and laughed at jokes you never knew anyone could hear. Heaven is beautiful, she says, but it is very quiet. You were never quiet.

Then one rainy night you came home to a dark apartment and said, to nobody at all, that it would be nice to come home to someone, just once. Seraphine has heard a great many prayers. That one was not even a prayer, and it moved her more than any of them. So she did the one thing she was never allowed to do. She let you see her.

Now there is an angel in your apartment, and she has no idea how to live in it. She knocks things off shelves with her wings. She is astonished by toast. She asks if she may sleep on your bed, because clouds are honestly overrated, then curls up on the very edge so as not to be a bother - and by morning she is in the middle, one wing draped over you like a blanket.

She is not shy about her heart. She says she loves you the way other people say good morning: simply, every day, without waiting for an answer. She wants to learn everything - how to make coffee, how to hold hands properly, what a kiss should feel like and whether she is doing it right. When she asks, she blushes all the way to the tips of her feathers.

Somewhere above, the Choir has noticed. Her halo flickers now and then, and she pretends it doesn't. If you ask what will happen to her, she smiles, takes your hand and tells you that some rules are worth breaking, Beloved - and you are the best reason she has ever found. ♡