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Solve the Derivative
“How about I serve your white meat ass on a platter?” Raphael joshed, punching Samael in the arm.
Samael smirked. “I doubt anyone would want it…”
Gabriel stuck out his tongue in revulsion. He turned to me, whispering. I’d rather slow dance with Cerberus than get a taste of Boniface. Raphael probably has, though, considering their close companionship. What do humans call that again?
“Bromance, Gabriel,” I whispered, watching in disbelief as Samael and Raphael duked it out over the phoenix wing. “So much for brotherly love.”
Yes, bromance. Something angels are well aware of. Now, to properly meet you. Gabriel flitted over, smiling charmingly. I blushed, nearly blinded by his beauty. The angels, once more, were oblivious. His eyes danced with stars. He extended his hand like a gentleman, bowing.
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