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✭ Good morning queennnnnnnn *drops off flowers and gift basket of goodies platonically * have a wonderful day ✭

[@feathrflaunt ]
                 [for a moment the nymph is stumped, until the realization dawns on her.] “ohhh,” [ she breathes, drawing the word out as his dramatic call fills the room.] “is that what this is about? you're hungry.”
            
            [she shakes her head, smiling despite herself.] “you could’ve just said so.” [crossing the remaining distance, she reaches and opens the fridge, cool air spills out.]“alright,” she says as she crouches down and starts scanning the shelves.] “What are we thinking?”
            
            [her hands move things aside— leftovers, a carton of eggs, a jug of juice that she shifts to the back. then she spots them, the small container tucked near the crisper. she pulls it out slowly.] “berries?”
            
            [she pops the lid, inspecting them carefully. “strawberries? blueberries? raspberries? [she looks up at him and laughs] “blink once for strawberries,”[ she teases softly.] “twice for blueberries and do a little dance for raspberries.”
            
            [and then she waits, watching him with exaggerated seriousness, trying to decipher what he wants like it’s the most important negotiation of her life.]

( the moment she settles into him, he stills like he’s soaking it in. then, abruptly, his head pops up with a sharp, excited trill. his whole body perks, feathers lifting, eyes bright with sudden intent. another loud call bursts from him as he steps back, only to immediately circle her once, quick and impatient, like he’s trying to pull her along without words. his beak nudges at her arm, insistent, followed by a rapid series of chirrs and clicks, impatient, urging. he doesn’t wait long. with a dramatic flare of his tail, he turns and starts strutting toward the kitchen, pausing every few steps to look back at her, calling again, louder this time, proud and demanding. once he reaches the fridge, he taps at it with his beak. once. twice. then faster, sharper, before letting out another drawn-out, unmistakably dramatic call that fills the whole space. his feathers puff as he turns in a tight little circle, glancing between her and the fridge like the answer should be obvious. he chirrs again, softer now but no less expectant, head tilting as he steps closer and nudges the door, then looks at her with a bright, eager trill. ) 

[@feathrflaunt ]
            
            [She lets out a surprised laugh when his wings drape over her, the sound melting into something gentler as she realizes he has no intention of giving her personal space ever again, which in all honesty, she didn't mind at all.]
            
            [her fingers stroke along the curve of his back where his feathers are fluffed up around her hand. the tiny brush of his beak along her jaw makes her chuckle, and she leans in, letting her cheek rest lightly against the top of his head. the steady rhythm of his pleased and happy trills vibrate fill the space between them where they're cocooned together in their own little sanctuary.] “you’re not subtle at all,” [ she whispers fondly, smiling as his tail feathers tap lazily against the floor.] “but nonsense, i adore you.”
            

( he isn't sure why he feels so overwhelmed. part of it must be the design, the weight of his perfectionism. he buries himself where she leads, hides himself from the world and snuggles both against her and into the warmth of the covers. a few silent, stray tears fall down his face and he makes no effort to stop them. he's just so tired. so regretful. if he ever caught himself speaking to her in such a way again, he isn't sure what would need to be done, but certainly /something/. his eyes close. a few more tears fall, but again, utterly silent. he just sniffles and exhales, arms kept around her. ) i love you, so much, i.. ( he swallowed, voice small, ) i'm so sorry that i hurt you. i was so mean. i'm sorry. i love you.

[@feathrflaunt]
                   
               [she feels him tense again, hears that small broken sound leave him, and her heart just aches in the softest way. not out of pity — never that. just love. her hand stills for only a second before she shifts closer, sliding one arm more firmly around him, the other coming up to cradle the back of his head and guide his face into the space beneath her chin.] 
            
            “clyde, don't apologize,” [ her voice is barely above a whisper, warm and steady. her fingers comb slowly through his hair, patient, grounding. she presses a gentle kiss to his temple.]  “you don’t have to try harder. you don’t have to earn this.”[ another soft kiss, this time against his forehead.] “i love you, /pretty bird/
            
            

( when they lay down, clyde curls up at first, body rigid, like instinct. then he slowly relaxes when she climbs in next to him, when her hands find his side and rub along gently. he quickly tenses again at her words, simply unsure how to react, unsure how to take such assurance. such kindness and love. another noise left him, another of those pathetic, uncontrollable little trills that sounded more like a quiet whimper. to be told he was worth loving? clyde shook and stifled a quiet sniffle. it felt humiliating to be doing this in front of the woman he wanted to protect from all harm. but he loved her so much, wanted to learn, to improve where he needed it. ) i'm sorry. i'm going-- to try harder. i will do better.