♡︎Philza Oneshots♡︎

-Feathers -[Philza Angst]

Note: In this, Phil wears fingerless gloves all the time, except when he is cooking or swimming, etc... :) ALSO, I'm British so if anything in here is different than what you say/call it then that's why :)

TW: Hyperventilation, Panic Attack Description, Blood, Shouting dialogue :) (If there's anything that I've missed please let me know!!)

GENRE: Angst, A bit of fluff at the end

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-No one's POV-

It's 2:45 pm, In the middle of June. A slight breeze sweeping through the blades of grass and blooming flowers, the air warm and refreshing. The pleasant aura seemingly calming any passerby who set foot near the gentle burrow. Only a few clouds seemed to hang lazily in the creamy, blue gradient sky above, along with a soft fluorescent glow of the evening sun. A sign above the cottage door read: 'Sleepyboisinc', evident that they are the owners of the humble home.

The contents of the sign deemed true, as sure enough, the family named as such were gathered snugly in the warmth of the living room. A fluffy, blonde-haired teen sat, legs up the back of the setee and knees bent over the edge. Another boy sat at the opposite end of the scruffy, blonde teen, his phone in hand and delicate guitar by his side. The stairs creaked as another figure made its way into the room. Soft, long, pink hair, braided and swirled into a bun. His fluffy, red cape lay loosely around his shoulders, yet the rest of his outfit seemed to be for comfort only. He was wearing a white, oversized t-shirt and black, baggy joggers. The cape itself seemed to be more of a comfortable cloak, almost as if he still wanted to be fashionable whilst maintaining pride and comfort. And is also a pig hybrid?...

In the kitchen stood an older man. He wasn't old, but he was older than the others. The man wearing a green robe, grey joggers, and a baggy white shirt with a light green and white bucket hat, stood cooking food for the rest of the members of the household.

It was pasta. Nothing could go wrong when making simple pasta.

"Phiiiiilllll~ when's the food gonna be done~??!!" Shouted the scruffy, blonde teen from the living room in a sing-song voice.

"A couple minutes Tommy!" The older (known as Phil) replied to the boy, now revealed to be called Tommy.

Phil's fingerless gloves lay on the counter behind him as he stirred the pasta around the pot on the hob. He loved cooking, especially for people he's close with. It's sort of relaxing to him.

"Hey, Phil, why do you always wear gloves?"

Phil froze.

Why did Tommy ask that? Why did it have to be that question? Almost any other question would've been fine. But no. It was that one. To any other normal person, it would've been fine. A simple response of "I'm cold" or "I like the style"...

But Phil wasn't entirely normal.

He was half-bird for heaven's sake! But his wings were normal to everyone around him. People knew that. But there's something they don't know that comes with being a bird hybrid.

Feathers.

Yes, feathers are normal on wings, but being a bird hybrid also means that feathers appear on other parts of your body. The closer to the skin they are, the more sensitive they can be. For example, Philza's arms.