She's standing in front of him, looking up at his face and thinking she might have to shield her eyes, because there's a full moon hanging above his head and the clouds are like antique lace, thin and worn. If she stands out here too long, she might get moonburned.
"I just don't always feel like it, I guess," he says with a shrug. Shadows hide his face, but she can see the outline of his jaw and she knows he's smiling crookedly.
She blinks and the moon becomes a halo. She wonders if he's her guardian angel, or if he's just a fallen angel trying to get in her way, cause a little trouble.
That's when she suddenly notices the awkward silence ringing in her ears. "You're probably waiting for me to leave, uh?"
"No, that's ok. You can stay as long as you want. But if you do stay, can we go back inside?" He brushes a mosquito away from his arm.
She opens her mouth to say "Okay"--her feet beg to move back towards his door and they almost fulfill their wishes--but her Sense and Sensibility won't release their iron grip on her emotions. "No, I've got to get going. It's too late, anyways."
They say their goodbyes, exchange a hug that ends much too soon for her, and he tells her to call him sometime during the week.
As she stumbles towards her car, she decides that he must be the fallen angel and she wonders what shoved him over the cloud. Was it the Hand of God? A vengeful ex-girlfriend . . .?
He probably just tripped and fell.