Angel was alone in her room. She shivered a little as she felt the breeze from the partly open window on her bare arms. She heard a low rumble coming from her stomach and laughed because it had scared her. As gross as that food had looked, she really should have eaten something. She just hoped that she wouldn't get Micky in any trouble, he seemed really nice. "They all do." She said aloud to herself. Men could never really be that nice; it was all an act. Her own father had left her. It wasn't his fault that he died of course, but he had said that he would always be there for her, and he wasn't. He had left, so whom else could she trust? Then she had met Billy. He had seemed wonderful, but soon his true colors had shone through. The only two men she had ever completely given her heart to let her down, and she knew now that men just couldn't be trusted. She picked up the guitar by her bedside. The police had apprehended all her things from Billy's apartment so that she could have them when she got out of the hospital and moved out on her own. "Out on your own"; the words echoed in her head as she strummed the guitar lightly. She began to sing the words softly as she played, almost chanting them. She didn't even hear the door open. Micky walked in silently, and saw Angel playing the guitar. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she played the same chords over and over, repeating the same words as well. She looked so sad and alone; he just couldn't bear to see anymore.

"Angel?" Micky said quietly, he didn't want to frighten her. She looked up quickly, obviously startled.

"Micky? I didn't hear you come in." She said bashfully; she had never let anyone hear her play or sing.

"Oh, I didn't want to interrupt you, I'm sorry if I scared you." He looked down at his feet, he could tell she was embarrassed that he had caught her playing and singing. Though he couldn't understand why; she did both wonderfully.

"Oh it's ok. I was just... playing around." She looked up at him "What are you doing here?"

"Well I umm, I brought you something." He looked into her sad eyes again, and took his hand from behind his back. In it, he held a large salad in a take out container. "I thought you might be hungry." He said softly, and he handed it to her.

"Micky, I..." Angel began. She didn't know what to say, no one had done anything nice for her in a long time. She took the container from Micky, her hand lightly brushing his. She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you, Micky" she whispered.

"Hey, I couldn't let you starve." He said, smiling a little as well; seeing her smile made him smile. "Well I just wanted to bring you the salad," he said "I'll leave you alone now." He turned to the door and was about to leave.

"Micky?" Angel said so softly he could barely hear her. He walked back to her bedside so that he could. "Do you think you could..." She trailed off, this was really tough for her to ask. "Do you think you could stay for a little while? It gets really boring being here alone all the time. If you have something else to do, it's ok." She said, feeling relieved that she had asked him. Micky wanted to smile a big smile, but somehow managed to hold himself back.

"Yeah, sure." He said, hoping he sounded normal. Angel gestured for him to sit down at the chair next to her bed, and he did. "So are you gonna eat that salad or keep it around for company?" he asked jokingly, and she laughed sweetly

They talked about everything that night; not once breaking the soulful stare into each other's eyes. By the time Micky left, it was after eleven, and Angel was drifting off into sleep. He said goodbye, and kissed her forehead lightly. Then he walked to the door. And like earlier that day, he stopped at the door to look back at her. Asleep, she really did look like and angel.