Saved by the Archangel
Don't touch my wings.
"Oh, spare me, Miguel," I said with a certain harshness, pulling him on one side to force him to turn around. He was so heavy that I ended up being dragged on the floor while trying to get him to take the position face down. I stood up, put a lot of strength in my legs and managed to fight against his protests and turn him again. The vision was even worse. Now that he had been lying on top of the stumps for a while, they kneaded, so that they moved like birds crushed by a wheel. My stomach tightened." I'm going to have to rip that off, Miguel.
"No," he grunted, pushing his elbows to get up." Don't touch it, Elena. Don't touch my wings. I beg you. Don't touch it.
Bab Populer