Context:
“Because I said we’re settling this here!” Dark roared, whirling on Krad with a hook punch that sent him flying sideways. The white angel desperately grabbed the front of Dark’s shirt and dragged him down with him, and they tumbled across the ruined pavement.
Krad was always slightly stronger where magic was concerned, while Dark had more in the way of brawn, so it wasn’t a huge shock to him that Dark was able to come out on top in their grappling session. What surprised him was how fierce Dark’s movements were. The black-winged angel tugged Krad sideways and pinned him harshly on his back to the cement with his head hanging off the edge of the staircase. Dark’s free wing still hung oddly behind him, and Krad frowned at it. “What’s wrong with your wings?” he demanded.
“Nothing, you nosy bastard,” Dark glared.
“You’re hiding them. What is it?” Krad set his gaze stubbornly.
“You…” Dark’s rage was thick enough to taste like gas in the air. One spark, and boom. “…Keep your damned mouth shut.”
Krad raised his eyebrows. “Oh, my, you’re being awfully scary,” he mocked, throwing his weight to the side and working to break free of Dark’s grip. The two angels locked on their sides, neither gaining a real upper hand. Krad’s gaze grew more serious, even impatient. “It’s obviously not normal, so talk.”
“You know exactly what’s wrong with it,” Dark growled, pulling his fist back and using the short proximity he had to throw a punch into Krad’s stomach.
Krad coughed and narrowed his eyes, unable to get his hands free to strike back. “Enlighten me,” he grunted through the effort of keeping Dark’s wrist from getting enough room for a second punch.
“Why did you ditch in the middle of the spell,” Dark demanded, pressing his face close to Krad’s. He hurled his weight and came back on top of the gold-haired angel. Krad didn’t offer much resistance; he seemed to have suddenly gone still for some reason.
The black angel drew his hand back and punched the white angel across the cheekbone. Dark was trembling with hopeless anger, glaring down at Krad. “Two years, two years taught you nothing! You selfish, arrogant, sadistic bastard!” he shouted, throwing blow after blow into Krad’s jaw until Krad finally caught his wrists in each hand and their arms locked between them.
“You intended to keep me there, in that hell for eternity!” Krad shot back, but he looked stunned.
“Yes! Because you’re evil, Krad. The only thing you know how to do is hurt people!” Dark’s good wing arched upward, echoing his anger.
“You can’t fly?” Krad finally said it like a question, but there was more than curiosity in his voice.
Dark’s nails dug in against Krad’s arms. The white angel looked the worse for wear, his shirt torn to shreds and his face bleeding. “I loathe you, Krad,” he hissed, “But I’ve never once shot for your wings.” He threw each word out like a curse, as if he regretted his sportsmanship.
“You-,” Krad’s sentence chopped off as the ground began vibrating under his back. It was a small, distinct movement. “What the…” Dark had stopped wrestling his arms, which was good because he’d forgotten to push back. Then everything happened at once. A fierce shudder ran through the cement into them both, like the earth was trying to break itself apart.
“Are you doing that?” Dark asked.
“No,” Krad said, glancing over his shoulder at the ground suspiciously.
