He was addicted to flying. When the world was too heavy, the clouds have him relief. It always bothered him that everyone told him to come back down to Earth.
He didn't mind the darkness the night sky created. While he flew, it gave him a sense of peace. He was alone above everything and everyone. He could be free.
The more he flew, the more he wanted to fly. He craved to sway among the stars, body tingling with new sensations. It was his domain. Until he met her.
"Come back down to Earth," she's said. For the first time, he did as he was asked.
"Please don't go flying away," she's asked. "You're different when you're flying."
He went astray, too troubled by gravity. It weighed on him, making him heavy and sluggish. He wanted to resist but his friends would hand him his wings and tell him to travel the skies.
He was addicted to flying. When she tired of his antics, she sought out her relief. It always bothered her that he didn't care enough to stay. He wasn't above her, he wasn't above anything. He was merely a million miles away, isolated in his own danger zone. It was there she let him stay.