Re: Elevator: Inside [Increasing violence]
There was another flinch, a quick intake of breath as her fingers pressed to his neck, nails digging in. Lips moved in quiet prayer, this time for the strength to get through this. Her words dug in, sharp as her claws. Damaged. Ruined. Imperfect. And yes, he could feel those wounds upon his person. "That is not your decision to make," he rasped out, the pressure upon his neck where both her hands circled, tightening, pressure upon his words, his very breath.
That wing fluttered again, trembling from root to tip, and with a great drawn in breath, the angel reached up to push his hands against her, his own nails digging in, attempting to drag her hands away from his neck, fight in those dark eyes that stared at her, unblinking.