“Come on!” she called to him, pulling to a hover. Then she spotted the mechanics, and frowned a little, darting closer. “How does an angel come to have a broken wing?”
He arched a brow, wings holding him perfectly steady, before casting his gaze up to the partially mechanical part of his wing. Gabriel let out a heavy sigh, the expression on his face seemed to darken a little. But not with anger towards Summer, towards another being entirely. “It’s not broken, actually. That part of my wing was destroyed entirely and so I rebuilt it. As for how it came to be that way, it’s a very old tale involving an angel who fell from heaven and the wrath he soon harbored against fellow angels he once loved.”
With a single sweeping movement, his wings shot him higher into the sky. “Come on, fly with me and I’ll tell you if you like,” he called out to her from a good couple of feet above.
Her face twisted a little. “I think I know the story,” she said, following him higher. “It’s old and familiar and heartbreaking. I imagine it’ll hurt you to tell it again.” Coming up even, letting the three-dimensionality of flight put her face at a level with his, she shrugged. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather be happy just now.”