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Summary
Tentatively, Aki followed the leading edge of Angel’s wing, from half-way up the bone protruding from his shoulder, along the curve and downwards, over the large ‘flight’ feathers and back. A slow, smooth motion. If Angel’s hair had been soft, his wings were something else entirely, impossibly light, as if made from the air itself.
or
What would have happened, if Angel Devil and Aki Hayakawa had been given a bit more time between their first touch and their fateful trip to Hell? Maybe it would have went something like this, with Angel straying closer and closer to Aki's little band of adopted misfits, and the strange relationship between them becoming more difficult - then impossible - to ignore.