This girl was pretty, something there was no denying. But as his blue eyes trailed over her face, he remember Maria. And that he did not deserve to think that was. Because after all, it had been his fault. Well, not really, but he blamed himself and as of such he believed it was his fault and the whole incident could have been entirely prevented. But even so, he though, it was only looking. Perhaps his gaze didn't have to be out of lust. But well masked admiration for natural architecture. Either way she was a pretty girl. 'My name is Angel' he said gently, a quaint reminder that, despite his height and un coyote like mass, he was nothing to fear. 'Angel Fabregas i Reus' he repeated, using his full name for effect, letting his tongue roll over the Latin sounds with a heavy Catalan accent, darker and deeper than accents from Sevilla and the capital for instance.
'It would be going better if I did not have to watch my back constantly' he admitted casually, watching the waters and squinting against the white reflection. Angel watched her attempt to cover herself up by crossing her arms and smile gently. While he was covered in a plethora of scratches, and under the thick black pelt bruises too, he'd long since gotten over the shyness of ones mortality. But women were different, vainer and perhaps it wasn't so bad after all.
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