Gabriel x Reader: Eyes
*
You weren't entirely sure when you first gained your celestial stalker.
The clues were scattered inconsistently throughout the city, with golden feathers appearing outside your front door, a brush of warmth in the otherwise chilly mornings, the unanticipated pause before sending an email that could have gotten you fired.
At first, you had assumed it was just a series of coincidences or some random streak of good luck.
But then the people around you also started to show signs of playing a bigger role in your life than normal.
There was the lady in the supermarket who had the last box of your favourite brand of cookies, only for her to notice your crestfallen expression and offer them to you instead.
There was the teenager who ordered the wrong drink at Dunkin, offering it to you "instead of it going to waste."
Yet again, coincidentally, your exact taste.
There were many others along the way: the man who covered your meter before you had the chance to even look for coins, the girl who bought you water at the laundromat, the mysterious stranger who had ordered and paid for your Lyft that night that you went a little too hard at the bar.
This good luck just kept appearing out of nowhere, and as yet another miraculous happenstance played out that eased the daily stress from your life, your eyes meeting those of your would-be saviour, it finally struck you just why you couldn't pin it to coincidence.
Every single act of kindness had had the same golden eyes behind it.
It was impossible to address this fact when standing in the bathroom of a Walmart, especially when the conclusion could only be indicative of your final steps to insanity.
You accepted the coupon with as much grace as you could muster, this time being sure to focus on their reaction as you offered your gratitude.
It was a flicker, just enough, of light, of mirth, of relief.
Whoever they were, you had no doubt in your mind that your good fortune had completely been delivered by their hands.
You berated yourself during the entire shopping trip however, certain you had to be insane.
Shapeshifting was impossible; magic wasn't real. That shade of brown eyes must be way more common than you originally thought.
That was clearly the only logical explanation: there was a small squadron of people out there with eyes the colour of honey, of sunshine through whiskey, of freshly grown barley-
Yes.
There was simply a coalition of kind people out there, and they all coincidentally happened to be reaching out to you, and they all just so happened to have the same colour eyes.
Standing at your trunk with your recently purchased toilet paper and ice melt however, you knew better.
The single golden feather laying perfectly prim on your license plate knew better.
The lingering warmth from the store knew better.
You had somehow gained a guardian angel, and you had no idea how to repay them.
Fortunately, your chance arrived sooner than anticipated, announcing itself as a knock on your door on an early Tuesday morning.
It had been months since that encounter in Walmart, and you had all but forgotten the exact shade of the golden eyes that still sometimes haunted your dreams.
But all those memories were rapidly summoned to the forefront of your thoughts upon seeing those sunlit irises beaming at you from behind a FedEx uniform.
"Morning!"
He was middle-aged today, hair on the shaggier side, somewhere between brown and gold and almost on the cusp of red, the slightest hints of stubble framing one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen.
"H- Hi." You stumbled on your greeting, brain still trying to boot up from the wake-up call, words banging together in your skull as you tried to formulate some sort of semblance of decorum. "Can I help you?"
He asked your name, pulling a box from his bag with a slightly apologetic tone. "We were understaffed for a while there. You were supposed to get this a while ago."
The return address was to a website you swore to never visit again, after they had told you that the order you placed was delivered and signed for, but never in your name.
You had assumed it lost to the Void, and yet here-
You glanced back up to the figure holding out the signature pad, not quite able to read the emotion currently in his eyes.
"Thank you..." You took a glimpse down at the nametag, mentally sighing in relief seeing that he was actually wearing one. "...Gabe."
Perhaps the intimate vulnerability to your tone gave away your awareness, or was simply freaking out a perfectly sane stranger. You dared to hope the former as a small twitch of his lips hinted at a smile.
"No need to thank me. I'm just the Messenger."
You finally had your answers, and it hit you with vivid flashbacks to articles written by dedicated spiritualists, by the stringently religious.
Gabe.
The Messenger.
Golden feathers and a smile that felt like it could summon life even in the aridest of deserts.
You were dealing with a friggin' Archangel.
He seemed oblivious to your gasp, seemingly distracted by his pad and scanning the code on your package.
You were filled with questions, with disbelief, humility.
How he had come to be protecting you-
"Regardless. You're still the one who got it here. You have no idea how much I appreciate this."
This.
Everything.
Luminescent citrine flickered upwards and met your gaze, stopping your heart for a moment. There was a sincerity there, a vulnerability that you were in awe of.
"Anytime."
The words were on the tip of your tongue, the questions you were so desperate to have answered, the final clarification you needed to be absolutely sure you weren't simply going insane.
The sound of your phone distracted you for a moment, attention diverted to check your screen and frown at the robocall.
By the time you looked back up, he was gone.
All that remained was a single flaxen feather tumbling softly to the floor, drifting lazily on the remnants of a warm breeze.
You couldn't help but smile.
*
