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Danny is not normally one to be shy, but—
But the girl who just entered the coffee shop has some of the most beautiful wings he's ever seen. They're built like that of a delicate songbird, tucked neatly against her back, the color of an inky night sky speckled with stars. The rest of her is just as pretty—close-cropped dark hair; brown, nearly black, almond-shaped eyes; pale skin.
Danny has to swallow over the lump that very quickly forms in the back of his throat. It's kind of stupid, how shy and nervous he suddenly feels. His palms feel sweaty, and he wipes them furtively against his pants.
The dark-haired girl is with a friend—a tall blond with shimmery, dark-gray wings. The blond is talking animatedly, gesticulating wildly with her hands while the other watches on, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. The pair of them go to the front of the shop and order, before moving to sit together across the shop, sipping at their drinks.
Danny tries to focus on his work. He does—he swear, he really does—but how is he supposed to study when the prettiest girl ever is there? He usually only comes to the coffee shop to try and study, since it's a great place to get some free wifi—plus the bonus of being able to order some treats when he gets hungry. But, he's never seen the two of them in here before.
He watches them for far too long, trying to pay attention to the laptop that rests in front of him and failing. They're talking quietly in soft murmurs he cannot hear. Finally, after what feels like forever but probably hasn't been any longer than fifteen whole minutes, Danny has had enough.
Danny's own wings feel rather tense when he finally pulls together the courage to push away from his table, waltzing as confidently as he can over to the two girls. He's holding his breath the entire time, biting the inside of his cheek.
The two glance up at him as he approaches, and he tries his best to look more sure of himself than he feels. He draws his shoulder back, fluttering his own wings—which are snowy white and gleaming—raising his chin. He meets the eye of the dark haired girl, and then, he opens his mouth—
"Did you forget your halo?" he blurts out.
The dark-haired girl just stares at him. Her eyebrows furrow, just the slightest bit, as if she is thinking incredibly hard about something.
"You know," Danny continues awkwardly, how incredibly aware of the absolute silence ringing in his ears. "When you fell from heaven?"
The dark-haired girl is still silent, but the blond one erupts into such violent laughter that it makes Danny double take. She bends over, resting her hands on her knees, looking as if she's struggling to suck any air between the cackles.
"Cass—!" she gasps, turning to point at the dark-haired girl with a single finger—Cass, her name must be, "Oh my god, Cass."
Cass looks between the two of them with a… look in her eyes. They're such pretty eyes, Danny thinks, swallowing thickly. Did he just ruin it? He thinks he just ruined it. He glances away, shuffling incredibly awkwardly in place. Should he go? He should just go, shouldn't he?
"…what about yours?" Cass asks, at last. Danny snaps his eyes back to her. Her words are very slow, very deliberate, as if it takes all of her focus to say them. Her nose scrunches up, as if she's struggling to remember something. She taps at her chest with one hand, and then motions to the wings on her back, then to his. "Like an angel," she finishes, in English. She repeats the first motion several times, tapping her chest
It takes only half a second to realize that what she's was doing must have been sign language. It takes the other half of the second to realize that he knows what those words mean.
White wings, she had signed.
He can vaguely hear the blond-haired girl explaining what Cass meant, that she had just forgotten the English word for white, but he doesn't need it because he already knows.
Slowly, he reaches down to the sleeve of his hoodie, tugging up the hem so his wrist is exposed. And there, written in a neat, blocky letters, the words what about yours? followed by the tiny symbol of someone tapping their chest, and then motioning with their hands as if flapping their wings to fly. They're not the clearest thing in the world, and he spent his entire childhood staring at them, and trying to figure out what they meant. He had never met anyone in his life with images as a soulmark.
Sign language, he had eventually realized, reading out two simple word: white wings.
He pauses for a long moment before he feels his face suddenly fill with a hot flush. "Oh no," he says. He looks up and meets Cass's eyes. She's smiling at him in amusement. "Oh no," he says again, "I'm so sorry."
Because, surely, if he has these pretty little words tattooed into his skin, then Cass must have the monstrosity of Did you forget your halo? You know, when you fell from heaven? inked across her own skin somewhere.
"I'm sorry the first words I ever said to you were so cringey," he says, ducking down so he's eye to eye with Cass. "I promise, I didn't mean to do that to you."
Cass's laugh is so bright that he thinks he might be able to forgive himself for his own stupidity. He'd really like to hear his soulmate laugh again.
It's such a pretty sound.