Falling — Falling

"The air is getting cold, Sarah," Elias whispered. He watched the crystals of ice begin to form on the edges of his visor.

"I know," she replied, her voice growing faint as the distance between them stretched. "But look at the stars, Elias. Have they ever been that bright?" Falling Falling

"Still falling?" a woman’s voice crackled back. It was Sarah. He’d picked up her signal yesterday. She was somewhere roughly four miles "below" him, though direction had become a suggestion rather than a rule. "The air is getting cold, Sarah," Elias whispered

"Still falling," Elias confirmed, tucking a ration bar into his helmet’s feed-slot. "The altimeter on my suit just stopped. I think I’ve passed the troposphere." "But look at the stars, Elias

Should the "falling" be (like this sci-fi version) or metaphorical (falling in love, falling from grace)? What is the target age group for the story?

Elias adjusted his aero-flaps, the small carbon-fiber wings attached to his suit. He used them to steer toward a floating crate—a remnant of a cargo ship that had succumbed to the same fate. He kicked off a piece of passing debris, a scorched recliner, and caught the edge of the crate.

Elias tilted his head back. Away from the lights of the vanished cities, the galaxy was a spilled bucket of diamonds. It was beautiful, silent, and indifferent. He stopped fighting the wind. He tucked his arms against his chest and closed his eyes, letting the momentum carry him.