The mirror doesn't seem to be in any rush to get to his feet, staying on his back as he tries to catch his breath. The pain in his arm he'll ignore for now, will acknowledge it when Gabriel has gone and William is in private. Dammit, dammit, dammit. The smug, victorious attitude from the archangel is like nails down a chalkboard and it's taking everything in William not to make a sarcastic remark. How bad would it be if he just started calling the other "Archangel" and nothing more in retaliation? Well it would probably end in tears, William knowing he's losing a battle here, and that is a bitter pill to swallow.

Turning his gaze back to Gabriel, the young man can't help the flicker of worry when he sees the dagger in the archangel's hand. If he takes that back with him, William will be utterly defenseless. The sheer idea of it has him going cold. Should Gabriel know that he would take it in a heartbeat and so William wisely keeps his mouth shut, putting his gaze back to the ceiling.

Gosh, his arm hurts.

"I don't wish to work for you."