The Rise Of CuteGuy

Wild Bird

Scar pov

When Grian finally seemed to snap out of the fog of sleep and hangover, it was like flipping a switch. One moment he was groggy and quiet, the next he was practically vibrating with energy. It was around 6:30 in the evening, and suddenly, the entire room felt alive with his boundless excitement. He darted from one spot to another, fidgeting with objects, chirping occasionally, and chattering about ideas that didn’t seem to have a beginning or an end.

I stood there, watching the whirlwind of energy that had overtaken him. It was honestly a little overwhelming. He seemed like a completely different person from the timid, vulnerable bird from earlier. I glanced at Mumbo, half-expecting him to scold Grian or try to contain the chaos, but instead, Mumbo simply walked over, grabbed Grian in a firm hug, and held him there.

It was like magic. The moment Grian was wrapped in Mumbo’s arms, he stilled, his rapid movements slowing to nothing. He let out a few soft chirps, almost like contented sighs, and leaned into the hug. The change was so sudden that I couldn’t help but blink in surprise.

Mumbo’s lips moved as he whispered something to Grian, his voice too quiet for me to make out. Whatever he said seemed to work, though, because Grian’s eyes fluttered shut, and he nuzzled into Mumbo’s shoulder, letting out another soft chirp in response. It was an intimate, calming scene, one that felt like a glimpse into a bond that only the two of them could understand.

I didn’t want to intrude, so I just stood off to the side, observing. Mumbo’s expression was calm, almost serene, as he continued to hold Grian, gently rocking him back and forth. It was a stark contrast to the chaos from just moments before. Whatever words he was sharing with Grian, they clearly held a deep meaning, as Grian seemed to melt into the embrace, his energy finally settling into something manageable.

“Guess he just needed a reset,” I muttered to myself, leaning against the wall. Watching them, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of admiration and curiosity. Whatever dynamic they had, it worked. And as much as Grian could be a handful, Mumbo seemed to have a way of bringing him back to center, no matter how far he strayed.

I carefully started backing toward the door, watching the cozy scene of Grian nestled in Mumbo’s arms. Mumbo glanced up at me, his eyes locking onto mine with a look that screamed, Please, take this chance while you can. He gave me the tiniest of nods, as if to say, You’re free now.

Not needing any more encouragement, I turned to the door, ready to make my grand escape. “Well, I’ll see you guys later,” I said, waving over my shoulder. "Bye, Grian. Bye, Mumbo. Don’t miss me too much.”

Just as my hand touched the doorknob, I heard a suspicious chirp from behind me. I froze. Slowly turning my head, I saw Grian’s eyes cracking open, fixing me with a laser-focused stare. His hand shot out, claws momentarily visible before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to have them out. “Scar,” he called out, his voice innocent but far too sweet to be trusted. “You’re not leaving without saying a proper goodbye, are you?”

Mumbo shot me a look of pure terror, mouthing, Run. But it was too late.

“I just did!” I replied hastily, waving again as I edged closer to freedom.

Grian started wriggling in Mumbo’s grip like a bird trying to escape a cage. “Scar! I just woke up! You can’t leave yet!”

“Actually, I can!” I said, swinging the door open and stepping out. “Don’t worry, you’ve got Mumbo! He’s great company!”

“I will find you, Scar!” Grian shouted, half-laughing, half-threatening as Mumbo tightened his hold on him, clearly trying to keep him from lunging at me.