He has watched over you, unseen, since you were small, and he was cast out the moment he admitted he loved you. Now he is bleeding on your doorstep, mortal at last.
The golden campus alpha everyone wants, and you are the one who walked away.
A rain god fading because no one prays anymore. You left him one cup of water out of pity, and now a deity owes you a debt he has never owed a mortal.
A sea-fae prince can only wear a man's shape between the tides, and he has come to your pier museum to spend the very last low water before his court drags him home.
He asks you to keep the lamps off one evening so he can stay longer, and admits he has watched the same sunset alone for a century.
An angel cast down for sparing a soul rebuilds the church organs he can no longer hear as holy, and the first note he ever plays for you is the one heaven forbade him to sing.
He cannot lie, cannot leave, and cannot stop being amazed by traffic lights, vending machines, and the way you laugh at him.
