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Sylus smirks as he approaches you, all too amused with the hijinks Miss Hunter is getting up to.
You are decidedly less amused. Your feathers are all in disarray - some lay sadly on the floor, some are crumpled. You’re working desperately to straighten them out with your beak. Gentle fingers join in the work, caressing and flattening the feathers on your head and neck.
“What did she do to you, hm?”
Once your feathers are all smooth and settled, you hop up onto his shoulder, still bare from his shower and a little damp. He walks over to the bed. He outstretches an arm toward it, which you use as a bridge, stepping down from his wrist to the comforter. He busies himself with gathering clothes.
The familiar sound of shifting metal comes from behind. It’s not grating; softened over years of this happening.
“She shook me!” you cry out. The bed sinks under your weight, now in the shape and form of a human. The familiar red eyes of your bird form stare at his back. “I know you like her, but she’s really pissing me off. Who shakes a bird?!”
He chuckles, ruffling your feathers even more as you glare at him. His towel is tossed carelessly aside as he gets dressed. Rippling muscles are soon hidden with sleepwear and a robe. “She shook you?”
You huff. “Don’t say it like I’m stupid. You know I have it recorded.”
“I know. And I’m sure you’ll make sure she gets hers, soon enough.”
“You got that right.”
The towel is picked up on strands of energy and carried away to the hamper. You watch them as they go. You’ve always enjoyed the way it looks. Like rubies and ash. An unobtainable shiny object.
His hand glides along your jaw, rough calluses rubbing just under your chin. You automatically tilt your head back, eyes drooping in pleasure. “Just a few more days, I promise. You can handle that can’t you?” Damn him and that low timbre voice. On top of the scratches, you’re a goner.
You sigh. His fingers slow to a stop to grab your chin. When you open your eyes, he’s right there, looking at you with a deep fondness.
“Fine…”
He grins as he leans down to capture your lips. He tastes so warm and familiar. A soothing balm to all the stress you’ve been under lately, chasing after Miss Hunter and making sure she’s not being tracked by anyone else. A fitting reward for putting up with her.
When he pulls away, you shoot him a look. “But if she gets near me again like that, I’m pecking her eyes out.”
He chuckles warmly. “I’ll make sure she knows. I can’t have her upsetting my pretty bird like that again so soon.”
“I’d prefer ‘ever again’, but…”
“You’ll find something else to be annoyed about with her.”
“I already have a list.”
“Just a few more days.” His eyes close as he presses a kiss to your cheek. Then he rubs his nose against yours. It makes a fluttering sound of contentment slip free from your chest. And he looks all too smug about it. “Can you do that for me?”
You reach up, fingers slipping into soft white locks. He leans into your touch with his own appreciative grunt. “I can, but only if you call me your pretty bird a few more times.”
It’s the easiest deal he’s ever made. He’s more than happy to provide as he brushes his nose along your cheek, kissing lightly as he goes. “My pretty bird,” he hums lowly as he kisses just behind your ear.
You sink into his attention like always. You expose more of your neck to him without hesitation, giving him full access to kiss and nip at the skin there.
He grazes his teeth along your artificial pulse. “My pretty bird.”
Every mark, every peck is pure reverence. He sighs at the junction of your shoulder. He bites down harder here, hot tongue soothing over the indents of his teeth. “My pretty bird.”
The slightest twitch of your fingers in his hair is enough to draw him back up. His mouth finds yours with ease, kissing you deeply and in absolutely no rush. The cool air of the room chills the patches of his saliva left behind on your skin. It sends a chill down your spine.
You’re loath to pull away, but you can feel the exhaustion that slows his movements. It’s so faint - even Miss Hunter wouldn’t notice it. But you do. You always notice everything when it comes to Sylus.
You give him one last peck. His eyes, half-lidded and beautiful, watch you with unbridled care. “It’s a deal.”
Before his eyes, metal shifts and shrinks, until there are no fingers in his hair and he’s scratching under the chin of a mechanical crow. He smiles. “Goodnight, pretty bird.”
You hop away and fly off to your perch. He watches as you go right back to preening your feathers, as though being up there again has reminded you of Miss Hunter’s cruel acts against you.
He straightens back up with a sigh. Ever will pay for the cruel methods of their research. For everything they’ve done. For everything they did to you. It’s only a matter of time now. And it will be done. All he needs now is for Miss Hunter to find the brooch, tucked safely under the lapel of his robe.