Broken Wings

The One and Only Chapter

Hi. this is like, yeah, the short story/one shot/thing. Its probably not what you were expecting? I don't know, I didn,t want to do something completely expected, and was too lazy to think up a girl character, and romance is not my strong suit, so... yeah. Maybe I'll edit it and make it Ziam or something later, but for now. here. have fun. :)

-Mel

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Liam sulks for a good three hours, give or take a few minutes. He paces down the alleyway, back and forth from the street to the wall and back again, clicking his tongue and pulling at his hair and cursing out Harry with every bone in his body. The worst part is, every time he turns around to stalk back from where he came from, a sharp pain shoots down his back, pinching at his side and stabbing his muscles. He hisses more than once.

The worst part about Liam's crash landing is that every time he glances over his shoulder, he can actually see behind him. He can see the dirty, garbage riddled street or the fading, brown-gray bricks of the three buildings he's sandwiched between. Liam has gotten used to seeing blinding, flowering white billowing from his shoulder blades on each side. He's gotten used to the feathers brushing up against his ears every so often and making him hiss and duck his head down in annoyance. But now his wings are completely gone.

He has to take extra care to step over the shattered remains of them on the ground while pacing.

"Stupid wall," Liam mutters to himself, bending down next to the enormous pile of feathers and shards of what looks like glass. "Stupid Harry. Stupid wings. Stupid gravity." He feels the intense urge to swipe at what's left of his wings and scatter them all over the dirt and grime that cover the blacktop, but he holds back because then he would never get his wings back. And walking tires him out pretty quick.

Essentially, when someone breaks their wings, they shatter like fine wine glasses and expensive sculptures. Whatever lies beneath the thick, downy feathers is soft and wonderful, until they connect with something hard- like a building or the ground. Liam probably would still have one wing if the ground hadn't been there to cushion his fall. Running into the building had only smashed his right wing to bits and pieces, then he spiraled down and shattered the other one.

So Liam sulks in the alleyway, glaring at the wall and the remains of his wings, and steps over the bright white, glittering shards and feathers that float up and swirl around each time he walks past.

Harry's head appears at the top of the alleyway, smiling down like nothings wrong. He blocks out the sun for a second, but Liam can't Even tell because his smile seemed to be giving off light.

"Hello!" He yells. He rolls the rest of the way off the building and coasts down to where Liam is, carelessly flipping his wings around like no ones business. Liam glares at him the entire way down and stands protectively in front of his glass and feather pile.

"Nice of you to come back so soon," Liam mutters once Harry has landed a few feet in front of him.

"Yeah, I mean, it was only three hours, wasn't it?" Harry beams again and flips a stray curl off his face. Liam decides he hates Harry. "You look different..."

"Do I?" Liam hisses out, wincing as pain shoots through his spine.

"Did you get a haircut?"

"What?" Liam drops his glare for a second to blink in confusion, which of course makes Harry burst into giggles. Liam thinks about killing him and dumping his body somewhere. "Yeah I got a haircut, like three months ago."

"No, that's not it," Harry was grinning and for a second Liam thought his face was going to break in two. "Maybe did you get a new shirt? That's gotta be it!"