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Summary
Death is imminent for Wreck. His hair whips in the wind violently, the villain unable to do anything but watch helplessly as the clouds got farther and farther, and the sounds of the city grew louder.
And then, the world froze. His fall was cut short, as if he had never fallen in the first place. Gentle arms supported him, holding Wreck tightly as if the man was going to squirm and fall. Wreck turned his head with clinical detachment, frankly not caring if he lived or died at this point. He was surprised to find that his savior had bright sapphire eyes, so bright that they could have lit up the sky. He only had to look into those gorgeous blue eyes for a moment to know who they belonged to.
Nice, his Nice, was alive.