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GULL
trouble just grew wings
…and she does not move. Your muzzle bridges the gap between you, coming close enough to hers that you can feel her exhilarated breath mixing with yours, close enough that the gentle notes of her laughter tickle your nose with light, staccato puffs of air. Then she closes the gap, this pink angel, as her chest brushes yours. It is fleeting, but as she draws back, four wings rush forward in a rustle of feathers, reaching for you, pulling you closer once more.
…and you let her. Eyes close briefly as she embraces you—no, holds you—to her body, causing a shiver of pleasure to run down your spine. Her wings are firm against your sides, and you find yourself trying to memorize the feeling of her feathers on your skin. It is more magnificent than you imagined it, resting cradled in Muriel’s wings, for you feel safe, and warm, and wanted here. Despite all your bravado, you have never felt so wanted anywhere else, by anyone else, and you bask in the sun of her affection like a man who has never seen the light until now…because truly, you haven’t.
…and then she speaks. Just before your foreheads bump, she stops a hair’s distance away, making you wonder: what will happen if you cross that line? “Well hi there,” she whispers with a quiet laugh, and in that moment, her easy acceptance of your presence breaks upon you like a wave crashing over your head. Decision made, you tilt your head forward, closing the gap between your faces if she will allow it. A low nicker escapes your lips, meant for her ears alone, like a prayer offered to a goddess from the fervent mouth of a believer. For with every knowing smile, she is converting you.
…and this you confess, though in not so many words. Your response is quiet, voice rough and low, but filled with a longing that is almost tangible. “I want you.” It’s much too soon, and far from socially appropriate, but you don’t care. You do want her, and not just for that reason. You want her because you feel that somehow, she understands you, respects you, cares for you even—you, a mere pitiful soul, a pathetic runaway who crashed into her life this afternoon as abruptly as a meteor falling from the sky. Muriel saw you at your lowest, and yet she has taken you for who you are. And for that, you are willing to bare your heart to her. For tonight, it is hers if she will have it.
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