The Rise Of CuteGuy

Annoyed

This was the second time he had saved me, and honestly, it was starting to get under my skin. Not because I wasn’t grateful—how could I not be? He was an amazing partner, resourceful and steady even when things were at their worst. But still… I couldn’t shake the irritation bubbling beneath the surface. I didn’t like being the one who needed saving, and even more than that, I didn’t like seeing the look on his face when he threw himself into danger for me.

That look—pure, unfiltered fear. It wasn’t for himself, but for me. Like he couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to me. It was burned into my memory, and every time I thought about it, I felt a pang of guilt and something else I couldn’t quite name. He didn’t hesitate, not for a second, to put himself in harm’s way, and I hated that it seemed to come so naturally to him.

And yet, even after everything, after I saw that fear in his face, after I watched him get hurt just to keep me safe, he still had the audacity to tease me about worry lines? The nerve.

It was so… him, though. Always deflecting with humor, always finding a way to keep things light even when the world was crumbling around us. I should’ve been used to it by now, but the memory of him lying there, pale and bleeding, telling me not to worry because I’d “get worry lines,” was still fresh in my mind.

I didn’t know whether to laugh or yell at him for it. Maybe both. He had this infuriating way of making me care too much, of pulling me in with his stupid, self-sacrificing bravery and his even stupider grin.

But if I was being honest with myself, that’s exactly why I trusted him with my life. He was always there when it mattered, even when I didn’t want him to be. And as much as I hated seeing him hurt, as much as his teasing made me want to strangle him sometimes, I knew I’d rather have him by my side than anyone else.

Still, the next time he tries to throw himself in harm’s way for me, I might just have to return the favor. See how he likes being the one left worrying.

It had been a little over a week since the incident, and I had finally been discharged from the hospital to continue recovering at home. Most of my injuries were well on their way to healing, though the stiffness and soreness in my body still reminded me of just how close everything had been. Despite the doctors’ insistence that I rest, I found myself back at the hospital, by his bedside, unable to stay away for long.

His injuries had been far worse than mine. Seeing him like this, hooked up to machines with the gentle hiss of the oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose, was a stark reminder of just how much he’d sacrificed. The doctors had put him into a medically induced coma to ensure he wouldn’t strain himself or worsen his injuries, forcing his body to rest and heal. It made sense, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

I sat in the stiff hospital chair, staring at him as he lay there, so still and quiet. He didn’t look like himself—not entirely, at least. His wings and feathers, those telltale signs of who he truly was, were gone, hidden away by his magic. It was something I’d seen him do before, but this time, it felt different. I couldn’t stop wondering if he’d done it on purpose, hiding them away because he didn’t want anyone else to see them so damaged, or if it was just a reflexive reaction to protect himself.

The thought gnawed at me, though. Would his wings be okay when they came back? Would the injuries carry over? I’d never seen him in a state like this before, and the not knowing was eating me alive. His wings were a part of him, a part he took such pride in, and the idea of them being permanently hurt made my chest tighten.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the hospital blankets. My hands fidgeted in my lap, tracing over the faint scars and scabs from my own wounds. There was nothing I could do for him now but wait and hope. Hope that he’d wake up soon, that he’d be okay. Hope that his wings would return unscathed, as strong and beautiful as ever.