So, uh—

--a lot of stuff happened all at the same time, so I’m not sure how or where to start or whatever.

I guess I should focus on you, because you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

(Narcissist ass--)

Because you were…like…floating on air. Like jeez, did you have any chill or nah? Cuz you’d been alive for—what—some days now and there hadn’t been a minute where I felt at least one scrap of sadness or anxiety or anything and it would have bugged me if your happiness didn’t make me smile so wide.

And boy, were you happy.

Especially then, when you didn’t plup back down on my nose like I expected, and instead you were taking an extended ride through the skies and the winds and the rays of sunshine and the everything and you were soaring outside and inside and I didn’t see your little lizard eyes bugging out but they were probably bugging out and wide and lizards don’t fucking smile but you were probably up there surrounded by soft owl feathers and fierce owl talons smiling your ass off.

While, down below, I was freaking.

“OH HOLY SHIT,” I screamed (shut up, you shut up), my eyes bugging out as soon as I felt the leap in your heart and the missed beat of your landing on my nose. I stared straight into the sun, which was smart, because then I really couldn’t see you, or anything for that matter—which really poured gasoline over that little catastrophe, huh? Because my pulse was skyrocketing and the sweats were back and I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in the 6.23 seconds it took me to glimpse those owls soaring through the air (yes, it took those many seconds, I counted). And even though your blind, fierce excitement raged in my mind, it did awesome battle against the tidal wave that was my fear for you--and, as soon as I saw a white shape darting out of the glare of the sun, the air crackled around my face and there was lightning shooting out of it before I could even register holy crap that white thing was an owl.

A white owl.

A white owl.

And I felt stupid for thinking it, because there couldn’t possibly be only one white owl on this whole goddamn world (technically I was right to assume because—uh—how many snowy owls are there that travel down so far south?) and it wasn’t until I glimpsed the brown shadow following playfully behind the white’s wing beats that I allowed my instinct to break through the surface. (My hope.)

No, fuck off, it was an instinct.

But the realization did weird, awful things to me, down in my gut, up in my head where you could see it, and maybe you weren’t paying attention to it at that moment (what with the flying ‘n all) but you would sure as hell remember it for later (because I guess you’re a douche-nugget who does shit like that, y’know, bring up old shit). I paced back and forth, my eyes still on the owls because my heart was still thumping like mad (for you), but my ears were twitching this way and that; I strained my sense of smell to catch a musk that I had memorized; my body started buzzing electric for a touch that I—

--uh—

--I mean, whatever.

But I was still pacing, and I was feeling awful because I had shot lightning at the damn birds and I was feeling like a jerk and then I was mad because you had been snatched from me and then I felt like a jerk for being mad at his owls and this probably doesn’t have anything to do with anything but I hadn’t bathed in some time and it was just now starting to worry me and to be honest I—

--I just wanted you back.

“Cheek,” I gurgled weirdly, still pacing, my eyes still glued to the zooming of the birds, “Cheek.” Because I knew how much fun you were having and it was making my spirit soar but—

--jeez—

--you were so high up and I…I couldn’t follow.

(for now)

“Shit Cheek,” I garbled, coming to stand at the crest of a hill as I watched you frolic in the air. Please don’t drop his ass. He’s so tiny.









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