#also also i still wanna make you the graphic!! I've just been so terribly busy :')

[handgiven]

"Hey, so um... I saw your ad in the paper and I, uh... Ugh. Never mind. I'm sorry, i-it was probably just a joke, right? Just f-forget about this, alright?" -- @awkwardcourage

the voice gets through to him, through shaky, though dissipating as soon as it starts. a name, a face, he almost feels like he knows them before ever coming close. who wouldn't know the martyr, promenaded around by the corporation seeking to turn even miracles into profit? and beyond the martyr, hughie campbell, human and scared, holding onto this newspaper for his life even if just for a moment before this overwhelming doubt drowns out the fleeting hope and his voice falls quiet.

it all happens in the background of one of those religious gatherings, where hughie was set to perform. the moment alone he stole for himself is prolonged by a gentle rain turning to an overwhelming rhythm tapping along on the tent's roof. the people outside scatter, postponing the program until the weather feels kinder. the newspaper crumples up in the mud seeping in from the outside. the door to the tent whispers when a figure steps through it, mundane and drenched.

he seems not to notice hughie at first, or at the very least does a very good job pretending he doesn't. he shakes the water out of his curly hair, though it does little to truly help. still does the outline of it shine ever so slightly in the wandering sun that forgot to tuck itself away in the oncoming shower of rain. the thin jumper he has on did little more to protect him from the elements either, and seeing just how inescapable this state of being is, he laughs. softly, to himself. only then does he turn around and his eyes find the only other person present. even now, no kind of recognition in his face is allowed to burden the other. the gaze is light, friendly, though slightly apologetic.

"it's raining out," he states the obvious, "i hope i am not intruding, here. i was just looking for a place... do you... do you mind the company?" his voice turns hesitant, in the face of the other's expression; the despair felt moments ago when hughie had uttered his something-of-a-prayer still lingers there. he looks small, the angel realises. smaller than the pedestal he is put on would paint him out to be.