Rooftop Theology - Part 2
He shows up on the rooftop a year later — same time, same sky, different person
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He falls back against the ground, his wings flared behind him, rustling softly in the wind, and watching her lean too close to the edge.
“I won’t fall,” she says, not looking back at him but down the building, forty stories high. “I just want to see how long I can do this without feeling sick.”
He lets out a low, rumbly laugh. “Sounds like a toxic relationship.”
The corner of her mouth curves up, and he feels his long still heart flutter slightly at her expression. “Now that won’t be entirely untrue.”
“I’ll catch you if you fall.”
“Who caught you?”
“Nobody.”
“Why not?”
“Angels are solitary creatures.” His hand finds her hair, absentmindedly curling his fingers through the strands. “Explains why I fell.”
“What does that make you now?” She finally looks at him, raising an eyebrow at him, all cat eyes and warmth.
He tugs her closer, pulling her leg over his and lightly brushing his mouth against hers.
“Yours.”