Swooped | ✓

Chapter 4: Proud as a Peacock

"Culver! Culver! Wake the hell up!"

Alert, I quickly opened my eyes, wincing when light pierced them. The unrelenting hands shaking my shoulder detached themselves as I sat up, hastily turning towards their source.

"What's wrong?! Do I have skin wings?! Please don't tell me I have skin wings!" I yelled, worried that the nightmare I had just woken from (where I indeed had skin wings and Milo was maniacally trying to hack them off with a chainsaw) had become a reality. Twisting my back and flexing my wings, I choked on air as I saw them. "Holy shit."

Definitely not skin wings.

My wings flexed as I instinctively stretched them out, Milo letting out a shocked noise as they unfurled fully. What had been a terrifying, bony skeleton last night had turned into something else entirely. The bones were covered in ebony feathers, which caught the sunlight drifting through the window. As the feathers tracked down  to the ends of my wings they slowly melded into pristine white, the sheen on their surface catching the light like fractals. 

I moved one of my wings forwards so I could easily touch it, running the pads of my fingers across them. They were soft as down, incredibly smooth, almost like they were coated in silk. 

I couldn't help the wide smile that crept its way onto my face. They were...

"Badass-"

"Beautiful," Milo whispered, his eyes wide. He seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat as he  ran his fingers through his hair. His embarrassed expression made me grin, and I shrugged, my wings flexing as I did so, the feathers ruffling.

"Bewitching," I said, wiggling my eyebrows. Milo snorted, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Breathtaking," he said after a moment, looking up from the air mattress on the floor, slight curve to his mouth.

"Brilliant."

"Beguiling."

"Bomb," I said, Milo giving me an incredulous look, clearly unimpressed with my choice of adjective. "Dot com. Heh."

"Banging," Milo said, his smirk making me roll my eyes.

"Bootylicious," I countered, making me wings flap up and down, as if they were dancing. 

"You're an idiot," Milo said, laughing. His eyes regarded me with mirth, his head tilting to the side as he looked over my wings. His fingers twitched where they rested on his crossed legs.

"Wanna touch?" I asked, extending one of my wings towards him. Milo blinked at them for a second, before turning to look into my eyes.

"Can I?"

"Yeah, of course, you idiot," I said, laughing, shaking my wing in front of his face. "Just don't grope my girls too much. They're shy, you know."

"Shut up," Milo said grumpily, reaching a hand out to press against the slope of my wing. Now covered by the feathers, I couldn't feel the coldness of his hands, just a light pressure where he glided his hand down, petting me like a dog.

"Woof," I said, gloating when Milo gave me a startled look. "What? You're petting me like a dog right now, what else am I supposed to say?"

"Tweet tweet or something," Milo huffed, taking his hand off my wing to cross them over his bare chest. "Or quack. Ducky."

"You're mean," I said, sticking my tongue out as I made my wing slap Milo in the face, my best friend grunting as he was pushed back onto the air mattress. I cackled as he stared up at me with a look of pure betrayal, but squealed when he jumped up, jumping onto my bed to tackle my wings. I laughed wildly as we grappled, my wings flailing around, knocking the lamp off my side table and rattling against the walls.