[ He lands outside the villa with a loud thump, kicking up dust upon impact. His wings are flared out, feathers harshly erect and straining in the stillness. There's not a lot of wind tonight, no angry clouds on the horizon, no storms brewing. It's quiet. It's too quiet.
The sea, too, had been silent as he'd paced and paced on the beach, pulling at his hair, first, and then his feathers. He's got bald spots here and there, the feathers in the surrounding areas either broken or bent. He'd thought about cutting the wings off again and failed, thinking about Elio's fingers combing through them. Sweet Elio. Sweet Elio who's definitely not as ordinary as he'd seemed, back when they'd first met. He's known, of course, for a long time. That he couldn't possibly be ordinary, this man, immune to the Devil's mojo, unfazed by divinity.
All the same, well, he hadn't quite thought...
Well.
Screwing his eyes shut, he resists the urge to bury his hands in his hair and and stands, staring up at the villa, thinking I have to tell him and Why did no one tell me we were fighting a war, still, something like this, why wouldn't anyone tell me and that last part feels the worst, really.
The idea that he could've even, for one moment, pretended that the world had finally stilled. ]
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The sea, too, had been silent as he'd paced and paced on the beach, pulling at his hair, first, and then his feathers. He's got bald spots here and there, the feathers in the surrounding areas either broken or bent. He'd thought about cutting the wings off again and failed, thinking about Elio's fingers combing through them. Sweet Elio. Sweet Elio who's definitely not as ordinary as he'd seemed, back when they'd first met. He's known, of course, for a long time. That he couldn't possibly be ordinary, this man, immune to the Devil's mojo, unfazed by divinity.
All the same, well, he hadn't quite thought...
Well.
Screwing his eyes shut, he resists the urge to bury his hands in his hair and and stands, staring up at the villa, thinking I have to tell him and Why did no one tell me we were fighting a war, still, something like this, why wouldn't anyone tell me and that last part feels the worst, really.
The idea that he could've even, for one moment, pretended that the world had finally stilled. ]