Seasonal Feathers

Chapter 6

A/N: okay, first off: wow. I am so sorry, guys. It's been like, what, a month?! I just haven't had any time (and when I say "any" I mean I've barely had enough time to sleep). BUT the good news is that once AP exams are over next week I'll be a lot more free (besides final projects and SOL's and crap) so I love you guys and again I'm really really sorry😭. Enjoy!
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Matthew sighed, nuzzling closer to the warm body he was lying against. The shirt that his face rested on was kind of scratchy, and the positioning a little awkward, but he didn't mind. Light laughter rumbled above him. "You comfortable there, birdie?"

He smiled and nodded. Warm hands came up and tenderly carded through his hair. He curled up slightly, goosebumps rising. He couldn't remember ever feeling so happy.

A noise interrupted his contentment, the sound of voices grating the air.

"Get rid of it," he pleaded with his companion, but to no avail. Irritation swirled in Matthew's gut when the voices got louder and clattering sounds began to accompany the din. He lifted his head to look at his suddenly unresponsive companion, only to be met with nothing but a lumpy pillow.

Surprised, Matthew looked around, but no one was there. He was alone.

The unwanted ambience grew in volume, quickly becoming deafening. The world around Matthew began to fade out, sliding hopelessly through his fingers.

He opened his eyes and blinked into a barrage of morning light. The couch under him creaked when he rolled over to avoid the blinding rays. More noises from the kitchen floated over. So someone was up making breakfast, then. More than just 'someone' if the conversation that was assaulting the area's other inhabitant was anything to go off of.

Matthew groaned and stretched, allowing his vertebrae to align with a series of satisfying pops. The angel rolled his left shoulder with a wince; he must've accidentally wedged it under himself during sleep. He tried to rub a bit of feeling back into his buzzing fingers.

He sighed. There would be no going back to sleep now, so he might as well get up.

He heaved himself to his feet and stumbled into the kitchen, making his way over to the coffee maker. Behind him, Emil and Wang were making breakfast on the stove. They chattered away, oblivious to the happenings taking place behind them. Sizzling and popping joined the ambience and the aroma of venison sausage wafted around the room. Matthew's stomach rumbled, but he ignored the food in favor of pouring himself a big mug of dark roast goodness. the sleepy angel stumbled over to the refrigerator, intent on retrieving his fix. Where is it? Bingo, behind the leftover chicken stir fry.

He pulled out the maple syrup, dumping a generous portion into his otherwise black coffee.

Matthew sat down at the table with his cup and waited to be noticed. He'd like to say that it didn't take long, but in reality another ten minutes had passed before he heard an exclamation of surprise from the other two inhabitants of the kitchen.

"Marty! I- wow, when did you get here? You're like a ninja!" Wang exclaimed, while Emil just snorted and tried to seem as though he'd known the whole time that Matthew was there. The latter just sighed and took another sip of his (second) coffee.

"I just woke up; I crashed on the couch last night."

"Oh," Emil said, "I think I took your bed, sorry."

Matthew waved his hand, face turning pink. "It's fine, I was comfortable," he muttered.

Emil replied with a soft hum and carried his plate over to the table. He and Wang both froze awkwardly upon realizing that they hadn't made enough food for three. Uh oh. Matthew had been in a situation like this so often that he knew exactly what would happen next if he didn't fix the problem. The stammered '"we can make something else"' or '"do you want some of mine?"' were both common phrases to his ears.