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It was on random morning, coincidentally seven days after their encounters with the birds, when Jimmy was pouring some mixed seeds into the little clay bowl Etho had made that he realized something.
The seeds stopped pouring, and both birds flew in from wherever they were. The little red bird liked to be near the stove, near the windows when the sun was high, hiding under blankets and pockets. The little brown bird liked to hide in high places like above the shelves, on the ceiling beams, other times it would simply be wandering the house, exploring over and over. Though, more likely than not, the birds were found together. Like now, peaking at the seeds, feathers ruffled from flying and playing around.
Jimmy put the sack of seeds on the table, then turned to find Etho sharpening their tools. He watched him a second before speaking.
"Hey, Etho?"
"Hm?"
"Do you think we might've fallen to a faerie trap?"
The words caught Etho's full attention, body frozen for a moment before he straightened, holding the tools still but not working on them anymore. Etho looked back at him, something neutral in his face, "Why asking?"
"Well," he started idly, unsure how he had even landed on that conclusion. Quickly, he frowned, "I mean, it has to be something, no?"
"They are just birds."
"You don't know that!" Jimmy scrunched up his nose, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned his body to him, leaning back on the edge of the table. "Who knows, maybe after achieving something, one day we'll wake up and we'll see two not-birds in the house. Or something…"
Etho, too, put the tools down, setting them on the little table in front of him. When Etho leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, Jimmy went on a defensive. He did not spit any words yet, waiting for Etho to have his turn.
"Even then," Etho said, firmly, "nothing we can do about it. We invited them in. They 'know' our names. We've been feeding them, and protecting them. Whatever there is to avoid, we've done."
"Except kiss them."
"…"
"I didn't say I'm going to! Or that I want, or thought about it!"
Etho rolled his eyes then pushed himself up. His boots on their wooden floor were very loud, growing louder as he walked over. Jimmy kept his eyes on him, not quite glaring, but something close to that sentiment.
He followed until he was facing the table again. His eyes were drawn to the red feathers, vibrant against the brown of the wood. The little bird stared at them.
Without saying anything, Etho reached into the sack, the brown bird caged in his palm. It fought a bit, chirps and squeaks and trills, giving up just as quickly too.
"If you are going to be kissing anything, kiss the red one."
Etho spun on his heels, walking away with the brown bird in his palm.
"Don't be over-protective or jealous or whatever!"
"You're the weirdo who wants to kiss birds!"