⋮ ⌗ ┆“Jealous.“‎ˊˎ-

Oh dear.

You are in huge trouble.

And you didn't even ask for it.

It started when you first joined Cindercrest, fed up with how the "before" withered to ash—stomachs aching in hunger.

For a king who swore to protect the server; he's becoming the one who took those precious lives away. Friends that will never come back, never opening their eyes ever again.

That white-haired man... He let you took his side.

There was another man too. One called "The Butcher."

You saw him, of course. Saw how he worked. You didn't even know if you're gonna be in awe or fear.

Especially when he's staring at you so much in meetings.

The way his eyes would narrow everytime he focused on the specific curves of your face. How his jaw would lock, like he was trying to swallow a sound.

It scared you. Considering his reputation.

But the more you worked together, the more you seemed to understand the unspoken implications between you two.

Nothing happened. Yet.

Then—it ceased.

No words, no looks. Not even a presence.

He gave you the cold shoulder whenever you bump into his firm body, not even making a sound as he continued to walk to whatever destination he pinned in his mind.

It all started when a person started to try and court you, another avian. Giving you gifts, letting out quiet chirps whenever you're near.

It made ShoeBilly's blood boil.

.☘︎ ݁˖

Your hand tightened around the doorknob, slowly pushing it inward, opening up the entrance. Your head tilted upwards, eyes flickering toward ShoeBilly.

He wasn't looking at you. He was looking down at another man. The person who tried to court you.

His back was straight, posture obviously aggressive. The scent of the other man irked him, eye twitching.

ShoeBilly's sole collides against the gravel as he hurriedly walked on the path to your place. The directions burned in his head, guiding himself without the need to look at signs.

He let out a heavy exhale. The heavens were pouring out, absolutely soaked in the rain. But it wasn't enough to wash out the blood that stained his clothes, ShoeBilly was used to the sting, yes—

But he definitely wasn't used to nursing his fractured pride.

His folded wings would finally droop pathetically as he reached your door. Somewhat hesitating.

His forehead would drop against the wooden door. He brought up an arm, planning to knock, but his body ached in protest, the cold biting into his skin.

He hissed, the sound of his knocking echoing through your house. The Butcher couldn't help but grate himself in his thoughts.

"Look at you. Standing here like a pathetic, wet bird." He mused self-deprecatingly. He hated this. Hated feeling weak.

Weakness. It made his insides churn, shivers of disgust coming over him in waves the more he waited outside of your door.

ShoeBilly would casually push the door to your bedroom open, closing the door with a nudge of his foot. His eyes immediately focused on the figure snuggled in the blankets.

Despite being mates, he hesitated, his eyes narrowing in sheer unease. He was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with taking off the layers of himself. The person he presented to the world.

But he knew—there was no point in hiding and concealing himself in several layers. Especially from you.

With a begrudging exhale, he slowly walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.

Turning his head, he looked at your face again, subtly admiring your features. At the end of the day, he loved you wholely. But he'd rather die than admitting it.

With a surprisingly quiet voice, he spoke; "I'm home." Despite the tone being casual—the way his jaw locked, trying to block out the icy roughness he knew that grated your security told you one thing:

He missed you.

Taking care of kids is tough.

Especially when your mate is The Butcher himself.

The shock was still surging in you. You remembered the days where you first found out you were going to have his chicks.

Well, after seeing Billy's face drop in pure shock? Absolutely worth every penny and minute of taking care of these chirping little ones.

The three, small avians would run around the room. Miniature copies of you and the man you dedicated your life to. Recklessly climbing up the table, one of the wobbled and fell, before ShoeBilly managed to catch them in time, cradling the child in his arms with surprising care.

He let out a defeated sigh, calming down as he looked down at the innocent face of the child, his eyes dilating, softening his features.

It was his and your blood after all.

The other two flocked around your own feet, hugging your calves as they chirped for food. Their humorously large wings and little bodies fluttering behind them.

"Now, now." ShoeBilly started, walking over to you, chopping up vegetables for a meal. He was careful not to accidentally trip against the little ones below.

"Be patient." He said.

MYOS