At this he goes completely still. Suddenly this is not all so juvenile and absurd - suddenly it is dangerous, terrifying. She could break his wings, crush them, rip them off as she threatened. It was stupid to bring them out. She has absolutely no qualms about hurting him for the most asinine reasons, and he knew that, and he practically encouraged her. It isn't about the stupid phone, it's a symbolic struggle for her, her obsessive need to assert dominance.

But he can't speak, can't try to talk her back down. He stares up into her cold blue eyes, breathing sharply against the press of her hand. All he can think about right now is the memory of Lucifer's hands on his wings, the overpowering pain as he broke them. He's frozen up by it, afraid that it is about to happen again, this time for no reason but his own incredible stupidity.