•°MPHFPC one shots°•

12 - Perekoo short

Isabel had woken up when she heard quiet noises behind her that sounded like someone crying. Immediately she glanced over, seeing that Alma was awake as well, her glasses still on the nightstand and her head in her hands as she wiped away her tears before they could even fall.

"Alma? Are you alright?"

The younger ymbryne tensed, not realizing Isabel had woken up from her and the cuckoo noticed how her talons dug into the fabric of her nightgown at the question.

The older ymbryne sat up, going to gently pull her into a hug when Alma only moved back slightly when she attempted to reach her.

"What's the matter, Fay?" She asks softly, worried and reaching out again but this time just taking her hand to keep her talons from hurting herself.

"It's nothing, I'm alright." Alma says quickly in a quiet voice, too ashamed of herself to look at the woman.

"It doesn't seem like you are, mon chérie." Isabel says gently in almost a whisper and the ymbryne finally looked over at her, this time the older woman brushing away a tear that ran down her cheek. Her brown eyes looked over her emerald ones, seeing the mix of emotions that seemed to be running through the woman's head. Hurt, confusion, worry, relief - she couldn't tell what the woman was thinking.

"What are you thinking about, Fay?" She asks, her hand still in Alma's who didn't hesitate with returning the touch. The older woman glanced over her for a second before sighing, looking back at the bed.

"Him." Is all she had to say, her voice bitter yet hurt and that told Isabel enough.

"Chérie, he's gone. There isn't anything to worry about." The ymbryne says softly, but felt a twinge of regret with how she worded it. She knew that despite everything, there was a part of Alma that still missed her brothers, whether she admitted to or not.

"That isn't it." The younger woman says, her voice hurt yet confused and she didn't quite know how to feel. Her mind was spinning and she wanted to shut it off. "It's not anything important."

"You're crying again, mon amour." Isabel says softly, her eyes searching her features for a moment to try and figure out an answer, but found none. Alma only felt herself breaking even more when she made the observation, the cuckoo's heart breaking at the sight of seeing her so distraught and moved closer to her, pulling the ymbryne into her arms which Alma willingly accepted.

Isabel stopped questioning her, instead placing a soft kiss on the woman's cheek and running her talons carefully over her back. Alma tried holding back her tears, not liking how vulnerable she was in front of the woman but it didn't go unnoticed by the ymbryne.

"There's nothing to be ashamed about, Fay." She says quietly, Alma biting the inside of her cheek, her thumb nervously running across the woman's hand.

"I don't want to be like him." She says, her voice cracking towards the end.

"Alma, you're nothing like him."

"I don't want to turn into him." The ymbryne says, looking down at the floor when Isabel pulled away, her hand still holding hers.

"You won't."

"Both Bentham and Jack, I was never like them my whole life but what if.." Alma trailed off, too many possibilities running through her head. She didn't want to ever hurt her children. She didn't want to ever hurt Isabel. She couldn't live with herself if she did.

"Chérie, enough." The older woman said firmly, drawing her from her thoughts. Alma went quiet, managing to glance at her and seeing the concern in her eyes, immediately looking back down.

"You are nothing like him and never will be anything like him." Isabel says, her voice caring but firm and Alma looked back at her, the older ymbryne moving her other hand to rest against her cheek and Alma pressed into her touch.

"You never will be." She repeats and the ravenette nods, moving her own free hand to rest against Isabel's that was against her cheek.

"Thank you, Izzy." She says softly, smiling slightly when the cuckoo leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, then her forehead and lastly, her lips.

"You worry that head of yours too much, chérie." She comments, a playful smile spreading across her lips and Alma chuckled.

"I suppose I do, don't I?"

"Very much so." Isabel smiles, placing another soft kiss on the corner of the woman's lips, a slight blush dusting over the pale woman's cheeks.

The silver haired woman gently brushed her thumb over her now dried tear tracks, then moving her finger down to brush against her lips, her lips turning up slightly when she seen the pink in the woman's cheeks as she did.

"Mon bel oiseau." Isabel whispers, looking down at her with a fond smile, her brown eyes meeting her emerald and Alma looked back at her, a smile playing on her lips.