The walk was refreshing, clear skies, and the temperatures such that people were still enjoying their time outdoors.  The stretch of sidewalk from her hotel to the Met was a straight shot and seeing it was open until 9pm that evening, Hannah decided to spend time enjoying the exhibits to distract her from the confusion in her heart.  While strolling through the galleries, she felt a tingling feeling on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her.  Self-consciously touching her neck, as if to brush away an errant hair or cobweb, Hannah couldn't shake the sensation.  Finally, in the Greek and Roman Art Wing, she turned quickly, eyes seeking the source of discomfort.<br/><br/>Two displays away, near the funeral frescoes along the wall, she spied a tall man.  A Greek god in the flesh.  Tall, dark wavy hair cut short, chiseled cheekbones and piercing dark eyes.  He was dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, with an expensive grey wool overcoat.  Their eyes meeting, he smiled briefly before turning away and slipping out of the room.  Hannah felt a strange sense of recognition and slowly followed, eventually catching up to him in the Modern and Contemporary Art Wing. He turned watching her approach. "Why were you following me?"  She demanded, looking up at him.<br/><br/>Voice deep and melodious, "I wasn't following you. Our kind are drawn to one another."  Looking into her eyes, he smiled tentatively, "It was time for us to meet."  Drawing her to a nearby bench, Ethan Hunter revealed his secret.  Flying wasn't something only Hannah could do. There was a multitude of individuals born to fly. "My sister can also fly." His warm hands held hers as he shared the story behind the mysterious race of fallen angels. "Our ancestors were seraphim who loved humans too much. They chose to give up their immortality to help humans. For that, God took away their wings but allowed them to keep the gift of flying.  Looking deeply into Hannah's eyes, "You are my match. I even know your name, Hannah."  He leaned in and kissed her, gently upon the lips.  The air around them glowed.<br/><br/>As much as the kiss was electrifying, Hannah remembered Andrew.  She pulled away from Ethan, confusion written clearly in her expression.  "I have a sweetheart. This can't be happening." Standing, Hannah quickly left, hurrying home.  The walk wasn't what she'd hoped it would be and seeing Andrew's text on the phone she left on the coffee table was the last straw. Sitting on the couch, she had a good cry before texting him back. "We need to talk. I'll call you in the morning."