Consort.

3- That Time He Kicked Ass

The Consort.

I awoke the same time she did.

I’d slept in the top right corner of her small room, knees to my chest with my head tucked in. It was almost like I was cocooning myself. The only difference being I didn’t wake up as a beautiful butterfly. My wings, if that was they could still be called, barely had any feathers left. The ones that remained were hanging by a thread and I daren’t touch them in fear of them falling off. 

Touching the exposed skin of my wings, I prayed to God that my follicles, the holes in the skin that the feathers grow out of, were not damaged. If they were damaged, my feathers would never grow back. I sighed. My wings were the only things I’d taken pride in. Now look at them, I miserably thought. They’re nothing. You’re nothing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girl move, which brought me out of my thoughts. She rubbed the saliva off her chin before running her hand through her frizzy brown hair. After yawning, she grabbed her phone, took a look at the time and started cussing. She jumped up then frantically started looking through her wardrobe and drawers for clothes and underwear.

I went to stand but I instantly fell back down. My legs were still weak and numb from last night and being crouched in the corner hadn’t helped one bit. I cracked my joints and stretched, trying to get feeling back into my legs and other parts before standing up.  Once I was stood, I flexed my wings, which caused me to wince in pain, and I tried not to think about how hideous they must‘ve looked.

But then I saw them in the mirror and I couldn’t stop the sob that came out of my mouth.

They were so dark. So black and burnt. I longed for my beautiful snowy white wings back and as I did, anger bubbled up inside of me. It was all Derek’s fault. My wings were destroyed because of him.

I folded my wings back up and turned away from the mirror, ashamed to look at them any longer. 

Once I had turned, I was facing the girl. She was getting undressed.

I guess there was a silver lining to what Derek had done.

I moved to get a better view and then leaned against the wall as she undressed. She cussed while she shimmied out of her jeans and I found it slightly amusing. Once she had removed them and was just in her undies, she threw them behind her and then bent down to grab her knickers and other jeans, which gave me a perfect view of her ass. I smirked as I enjoyed the view.

Before I could watch her remove her undies and then replace them with a fresh pair and new jeans, her bloody dog barked at me and scared me half to death. I glared at the Dalmatian before turning back to her. She removed her top and was about to unclip her frilly black bra, but then her dog starting barking again.

“Bentley please shut up!” She ordered but her Dalmatian- Bentley - ignored her. In fact, he barked even louder when he saw my eyes trailing over her curves. She wasn’t as curvy as the prostitutes Derek brought home, nor was she as pretty but I still would’ve shagged her.

As she pleaded for him to stop barking, she crouched down to his level. I glared at the dog, knowing that he wouldn’t stop till I turned away. I felt sorry for this girl though, I mean clearly she was late for something and her dog barking wasn’t helping her reach there sooner, so I decided to be a gentleman and turn my back.

The dog immediately stopped barking. I tried to look at the girl undress by using the mirror but he started growling at me, so I gave up.

“Stupid fucking dog,”

*   *   *   *

She ran through the streets, nearly knocking over multiple people along the way. One of them people being a fragile old lady, who shared a few foul words with the girl before giving her the middle finger. I laughed, but no one could hear me.