Merfolk Mating Rituals Are Confusing

CH 14

Tiziano wants to kill him. He wants to strangle that black and white, polka dot, housewife fucker until his eyes bleed and his nose starts leaking braincells because could those water dwelling fucks stop ruining shit for at least 1 motherfucking day?!

He can feel his true form itching beneath his skin, the feathers crammed into a much smaller space then they were used to. Tiziano can feel a few people in the waiting room eyeing him judgmentally as he scratches aggressively at the nape of his neck, probably believing him to have lice when, in reality, the small quills that resided there were pushing at the skin and irritating it.

Though, if he was allowed to believe in the worst case scenario, it may also be because of his ragged, filthy appearance.

Usually, Tiziano could - and would! - spend hours at a time in front of his mirror, brushing out his hair, applying products and styling it to his liking. His eyeliner was always immaculate, his eyelashes long and a small bit of lipstick applied to his lower lip...

He was a mess.

Running his fingers through his slightly greasy hair again, Tiziano's face screws up as a tangle catches his fingers, mocking him for his disheveled state.

"Mr. Accamando?" Squalo shifts beside him, snorting awake at the soft call of his name.

"Mmnn, yea-, yeah?" Tiziano winces at the bags beneath his eyes. Deep, dark circles that stand out quite harshly against his softly tanned skin tone, and only made more prominent by how crystalline blue his eyes are. Its obvious he hasn't slept very well when combined with his drooping eyelids, and Tiziano can't help but feel a small swell of protectiveness at how sharply he sways when he slowly clambers to his feet. "M'here, m'here Doc."

The woman eyes him, squinting in mild distaste. "Right. . ." Tiziano bristles a little at her drawling hum, her sharp eyes flicking up and down Squalo's body. She seems distasteful of his outfit, eyeing the way his sweatpants make his legs appear larger than they are, before sniffing snootily.

"Follow me please."

Her thick hair bounces in sharp synchronization to her steps, each harsh tap making Tiziano want to rake his talons across the back of her head. It's made ever more annoying by the loud jangling of her... golden wristbands?

Tiziano's nails flex.

Once again Squalo proves to be adept at reading Tiziano's moods, even without being fully rested. Without a sound, he slips his hand into Tiziano's, squeezing and flashing him a small smile when he feels the growing claws retract.

The harpy makes a fond sound, eyeing the dimple in his cheek.

The nurse clears her throat, stopping in front of a door labeled "708 B". Her hands lower the binder from her chest, the shiny gold bands sliding down her arm to clink against it.

Tiziano eyes the bands, feeling a little bit vindicative.

Turning, she levels them both with a firm glare. "Listen to me. We aren't quite sure what is wrong with her, but whatever it is, it's being compounded upon by the concussion."

Squalo leans forward, whispering, "Wait, like. . . the symptoms are even worse?"

She nods. "Precisely. You need to stay quiet, and not stress her out. The man who brought her here said he needed to make a call, and her family will be here shortly. If she starts to scratch at the gashes across her face, please remind her not to do so."

Tiziano nearly faints with the relief of knowing she's alright, mentally brushing off the mystery man who brought her in the first place. Squalo sways as well, pressing their entwined hands to his chest as a shivering laugh leaves him. Dropping his head, Tiziano traces the familiar cross across his body, only barely aware of Squalo watching him. "Oh grazie allo spirito santo, thank you."