You're The Sin, I'm The Sinner

4. Painfully Wrecked

Frank's POV

I was dancing around the kitchen, eating these salty chips that were hiding up in the corner of the pantry. It was just up there. I know, there's a mess everywhere, but it was just to piss off Gerard mostly. I looked around, tipping over this box of crackers and letting the satisfied smile come to my face. I hopped up on the empty counter, adorning nothing but my boxers as I ate some more chips and looked at the mess I created. Now we wait.

I dangled my legs over the counter, moving my wings and accidentally making the left hit a cabinet. I chuckled to myself, moving my wing and feeling it pop at the connecting ligament. It felt so weird, almost like a big finger popping. I hopped down from the counter, stretching my other wing slowly and getting the same results. I shuddered a bit from the pop, feeling it in the base of my wings.

I shook my wings a little, sighing and moving to exit the kitchen. A trail of feathers followed me, which I put off as a weird shedding or molting. I stood in a fairly spacious area for a minute, feeling a twinge of pain as I moved them to shake off the feathers. "Ow..." I whispered, looking at my wings and seeing that they looked fine. I shook it off, carefully folding them against my back to go up the stairs.

As I ascended the stairs, I felt another sharp pain in my bones around the base of my wings, stopping midway up the stairs. Sore bones, probably needing a break. I quickly made my way up, heading toward the bathroom. I looked in the full-width mirror, having to take a look at my wings again to make sure they were okay. I saw some feathers missing in some places, which was to be expected when molting, but new ones were supposed to be growing in.

"Come on, where is that molting brush," I whispered to myself, willing it to be in the place I hoped it was. As always, it moved, though as I looked at it, I saw white feathers. That little bastard. Well, at least I know I'm not the only one who seems to be molting. I shook out the white feathers, using the brush and raking it through the debris of black flurries.

With only one wing done, I was surprised to see how many feathers I lost in a month. The only thing that kind of set me on edge is that I wasn't supposed to be molting for a month straight, it only took a week at least. I moved on to my other wing, seeing even more feathers coming off. It was a little concerning, but I brushed it off, knowing they would grow back.

I slipped off my boxers, turning on the shower to try and get the rest of the feathers off of the back of my wings. I put the nozzle to pressure wash, wrapping my black wings around me, and slowly turning round and round. I heard a door open downstairs, a very audible groan, and then stomping up the stairs that was followed by a door slamming. A tinge of guilt came to my throat, but I swallowed it quickly as I finished showering and running across the hall to my room. Honestly, I didn't think I was going to shower, but at least I had a towel wrapped around me.

I heard a knock, it was distant, meaning it wasn't on my door. I did however freeze in place I was searching for boxers in the drawer I put them in; though now I wondered if finding my jack-o-lantern boxers was worth it right now. I grabbed a random pair, seeing the silk black and pulling them on before I peeked outside of my bedroom, hiding behind the door and seeing Gerard waiting outside the bathroom. "Hey, I'm out," I announced, finding joy in the way he jumped out of his skin and looked at me. "Geez, you think you could just quit sneaking up on me!" He shouted, opening the door and seeing the mess.

I watched as Gerard slowly backed up, closing the door and then looking down at me. "Clean. It. Up," He threatened, stomping all the way down the stairs and most likely using the guest bathroom. I felt a shiver going down my spine, though it was different and I couldn't even move for a hot minute. It was so weird as I slowly obeyed, grabbed the broom out of the hall closet, and started cleaning up all the feathers; mind you, I was still in only my boxers. I just hoped Gerard wouldn't come upstairs. As I swept, the more all the feathers came together, and it made me realize how much I had molted.

Amongst the mess, I saw a singular primary feather, holding it up and frowning as I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I slammed the door, locked it, and leaned against it, holding the feather as I waited to hear Gerard's door shut. Once I heard the  quiet click of a door shutting, I sighed and threw the one black feather to the floor, sweeping into the pile and then getting all of the black mass into our bathroom trashcan. I went over to my separate sink, solemnly looking at my figure; clean and fresh, but I didn't feel it.

I decided I wouldn't get dressed, just kind of devoid of motivation to find a clean shirt. I put the broom away, cowering to my bedroom and just laying there. I let my wings stretch out, seeing as they were aggravated when I folded them in. I stretched out my legs and tried to relax, feeling sore like I had just worked out. I looked at the headboard, feeling tired and guessing it was because of sweeping. I sighed and shut my eyes, snuggling into the pillow and knocking out soon after.