"𝓡𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓵 𝔀𝓱𝓸 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽."
̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶
It was disgusting, being a sappy hopeless romantic.
Still... give me a cheesy romance novel and I'll devour it.
I've always been a practical person, hardened from the realities of life and its unbiased treatment towards everyone. Yet inside, resting in deep slumber, was a fleeting light of thoughts manifested into feelings no organ could ever handle. Not even my own heart. I'd like to think about that specific part as a person's soul, unseen and hiding away until it finds another to latch onto.
Again, I was thinking silly thoughts.
Brown eyes widened as a large pickup truck abruptly cut off my motorcycle—honed reflexes barely saving me. I grimaced, knowing that the erratic pull reopened messy stitches from earlier.
A wavering exhale escaped. "You gotta' be shitting me."
The highway was ripped apart by a screaming engine, howling in distress as it flew on mere drops of gasoline. An even louder noise came from inside the rider's helmet, a muffled cry that begged for an end.
It was tempting, going splat on the side of a nearby building.
I abruptly steered left and into the main city, maneuvering through scattered traffic without caution. High-rise buildings loomed over in shiny blurs, neon lights reflecting and bouncing off my visor. It was all ignored as more blood oozed from my side. Teeth clenched as I gripped the handlebars tighter, unable to shake the sick feeling of dread.
Like no matter how far I run, those bastards would always catch up.
This morning's disaster haunted me, with regulars asking for unreasonable amounts of money and the orphanage finding new ways to ruin an already stressed schedule. But the normalcy was broken once I overheard illegal matters involving my rights as a person, not at all meant for eavesdropping ears. I would have been sedated and bound inside the back of a trunk by now, and that fact alone made my body shake uncontrollably.
Feeling rough hands grabbing hard enough to bruise, the glint of a knife and men pushing me towards an unknown car...
Someone honked as my bike made its way off the main road; any usual sass was absent, too weak to even give him the bird. The engine was kicked off as I parked at a nearby gas station, removing my helmet and scuffing up dark hair. Beaten up boots scraped across concrete as I dragged myself to a pump and filled the near empty tank.
I frowned at the sparse amount of cash in my pocket, forever dwindling from the short amount of income I managed to make.
"Damaged and poor."
You really are the dream catch of someone's romantic fantasy, Novalie.
With a sigh, I went towards the adjoining convenience store to pay, briefly noticing two shady guys in a heated argument by the entrance. Their voices hushed as I passed, earning them a pointed look by my sharp eyes. One of them puffed smoke towards me with a leer, whereas the other spat unceremoniously into the brick wall.
"Lost, sweetheart?"
My lip curled in disgust as I ignored them, quietly stepping off to the side and pulling out a comically cracked phone. I brought the device up to an ear and huffed, waiting impatiently for the line to pick up.
"Yellow!" A cheerful voice answered through the speakers, a complete contrast compared to the sketchy gas station's atmosphere. "This is Leon's answering machine, seems like you're shit out of luck—have a nice day!"
I blinked rapidly as a click sounded on the other line, leaving me anxious and miffed all at once.
Some best friend he was.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and continued walking, a cheerful bell ringing above as I entered sullenly. The cashier was reading some glossy magazine with scantily clad women on its cover, barely giving a second glance. My mocking salute at his hunched form was ignored as tired feet naturally led me to a confectionery stand near the back aisles. Greedy fingers went towards the wrapped chocolate, only for someone else's hand to swoop in.
"Seriously?" I looked up.
The perpetrator in question easily passed all definitions of attractive, enough to be crowned the title of unfairly handsome. He took large bites of the sweet, deciding not to break off its sections into neat cubes like a normal person.
There was a pregnant pause. "Yuck, who actually eats this garbage?"
"Me," I snapped. "Now it's wasted on your inferior taste buds."
Grey eyes watched me grumble and unceremoniously dig into nearby shelves, it was a cold hue, one that had an uncanny resemblance to sterling silver. There was a moment of recognition behind his gaze, before a wholly feral grin appeared.
Weirdo.
"Here." The man came closer. "You can nibble a corner."
"Hard decline." I turned away to avoid his heavy stare. "You shouldn't open things before purchasing them."
"Who said I was going to buy it?"
Another careless bite was taken, all while scanning my person with critical analysis. His angular jaw continued chewing, seemingly forcing himself to swallow the Cadbury as a displeased expression appeared.
"A thief's confession." My hand grabbed an assortment of licorice that was half off and probably expired, but I couldn't afford to be picky. "I'll turn a blind eye if you steal me those bandages over there."
"You seem very much capable of doing that yourself."
I dramatically gasped. "And do something illegal?"
"There are worse crimes than stealing, little birdie." He glanced down as if talking to a child.
A rare occurrence, since I was considered tall for a girl.
I subconsciously patted my head, knowing that the current hairdo probably resembled a biohazard. It was honestly the least of my concerns right now, especially after this creep gave me a nickname like we were old friends. Odd as it was, his assessment was eerily accurate, since I've always seen myself as a bird searching for freedom. I grew and preened feathers as my own personal armour, a shield that would protect me. But over time, like all avian creatures, my wingspan sprouted too large for any cage and it only hurt to fly.
"Trust me, I've been exposed to worse crimes." I braced both hands on my hip, leather jacket moving stiffly from the taut movement. "Do you wanna' chitchat about our criminal records?"
"I'd bore you with such a long list."
"Maybe confessing them out loud will give you redemption," I teased.
The stranger stared for longer than what was deemed socially acceptable, his gaze colder than before. "I like you, so I'll give warning that something is about to go down in here."
"What..." I took a step back. "What do you mean?"
A door violently burst open, an argument instantly occurring as the young cashier opened his mouth—only to be interrupted by the sound of nearby yelling and shattered glass. One of the guys who harrassed me earlier grabbed his uniform and started interrogating him forcefully.
"The blond man who just entered, where did he go?"
"Fuck you, dude!" Before the clerk could shake him off, a rapid punch was aimed at his face.
"Just kill him." Another recognizable figure joined the fray just as abruptly. "We were instructed no witnesses on this hunt."
Without warning, the first attacker made a garbled noise deep inside his throat, before spraying a grotesque liquid all over. I froze as the cashier crumbled to the ground while wailing in agony, watching as a foreign substance was forcefully thrown onto his face, eyes scrunched painfully as if acid was eating away the flesh. A magazine fluttered shortly after him, my stomach churning as blood seeped from underneath his burning lids.
The following silence was deafening.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.
"A spitting cobra, I've never came across one of your spirits before." The blond beside me hummed, not at all fazed by the gruesome murder.
This got the attention of everyone, causing my stomach to drop as he was targetted. There were visible fangs seen from the murderers mouth, venom dripping slowly onto the floor and convincing me of insanity.
I'm hallucinating.
The beautiful stranger quickly glanced over his shoulder at me shaking, a dangerous glint appearing as he turned back to the assailant. "You have terrible timing; can't you see I'm busy right now?"
"They said you liked to talk." The second man sneered, canines also elongating into fangs.
My eyes glanced between them all, clutching a licorice stick in terror as I heard their banter. Luck never favoured me, so of course crunched glass got all their attention, pausing my slow retreat before it could begin.
"Do something about the Unspirit bitch, Julius!" The thug yelled to who I assumed was his partner.
"I wouldn't do that." My acquaintance from earlier almost sounded bored.
I jumped back as the lunatic went to seize, only for me to whip my fifty-percent off candy right into his eye. An unapologetic fist instinctively punched, eternally celebrating as I heard a satisfying crunch from the nose. It was solid enough that he slipped on some broken glass, teetering backwards and having his head make contact with the corner of a nearby chip stand. I turned around to defend myself once more as another approached—he caught my wrist with ease, not at all thwarted and easily bringing it away from his face.
"You fight better this time around." The handsome man looked genuinely surprised.
Too shocked to process anything, I turned around in a daze. The other hooligan was now beside the lifeless cashier, arm twisted at an awkward angle with burn marks littering his scorched clothes. A grotesque sight, especially seeing a piece of white bone sticking out of the sizzling skin.
"This day somehow keeps getting shittier," I rasped out.
The mysterious stranger silently admired three lifeless bodies lying limp on a floor riddled with shards, not caring for any destruction of the store. In fact; he looked positively adrenalized by the gore.
My throat cleared as I pointed to one of them. "I think that one's dead."
"They must be getting desperate." He nudged the body with an expensive boot. "Blindly attacking me in the Unspirited Realm."
Nothing made any sense, and maybe I did crash my motorcycle on a nearby building earlier.
"What just happened?" I grunted while clutching my throbbing side, slowly backing up and making way towards the exit. The bleeding from earlier became even more prominent as recent actions pulled another stitch.
Yippee, let's top this evening off with pulling my wound completely open and bleeding to death!
"Just another assassination attempt." Bright irises observed every small movement, a hard expression appearing as they noticed my problem.
I wasn't dumb, this sounded like cult business that I didn't want to get involved in.
Although this young man looked like he was getting ready for a high-end fashion shoot, there was something underneath all the charismatic charm that showed the lack of any real empathy or remorse. Even the flowing hair added to this allure of false comfort, only for his daunting physical physique and demeanor to ruin the disguise.
He was a walking contradiction.
Lips quirked in amusement as he watched me observe him, only letting the sound of sirens blaring in the distance to break our interaction.
We looked at each other for a brief moment before sprinting to the door.
Well, I sprinted—he merely walked further inside.
Panic increased as I stepped out of the convenience store, running over to my motorcycle and effortlessly jumping on. I felt slightly better with the familiar weight of a helmet, before disbelieving eyes watched as the entire gas station was being engulfed with unnaturally hot flames.
Unnatural... that's how the blonde man's aura from earlier felt.
A flaxen head reappeared through the heavy smoke, like my mind's fear summoned his presence. There was a ferocious smile that told how much he's revelling in this environment, like a fire drake walking out of an abyss.
Fuck this shit.
Of course my bike refused to start as this pyromaniac slowly stalked forwards, observing how I trembled in the nightmare surrounding us. There was nothing to be done as he slunk behind me, sitting snugly and too close for comfort.
"Let's try this introduction again."
"Are you Lucifer or Beelzebub?" His arms wrapped around my middle in a vice-like hold. "I'll repent for all my sins—I never meant to hit that deer on the freeway, or that racoon, but they were basically jaywalking!"
"In the presence of a murderer." The deep voice mocked.
Before I could lose his strong grip, flashing lights appeared. Neither could tell if it was adrenaline or fear that made me kick off the stand and power the machine. All my life I managed to avoid being chased down by authorities; alas, here I am with a psycho bearing too much familiarity and speeding down the street at one o'clock in the morning.
The pleasant aroma of his cologne wafted around, a scent that strangely enough mingled with fresh firewood.
I revved the engine around a sharp corner and glanced behind to gauge how close the cops were getting, all while ignoring my passenger's devious grin stretching wide. It was the face of someone who enjoyed this situation a tad too much. He was the epitome of raw anarchy, and I had to fight my inner instinct to grin along with him.
I shook my head instead. "This is insane, how... why did you set the store on fire?"
"To get rid of all evidence." It was distracting, the way he leaned forward to speak in his polished voice.
Damn it, why was I cursed to find danger attractive?
I abruptly spun the bike around and headed back to an alleyway we saw pass, wedging through smoothly. The sound of sirens passed soon after, followed by a deep chuckle resonating from behind.
"Aren't you perfect."
I silently neared an exit without responding, palms sweating as glove clad fists clenched tightly around the handles; my right foot braced the bike's weight as I stilled its movement. "Get off."
"So tense." He poked me in the back with his index finger and began to trail it further down my spine in a teasing manner.
"Don't touch me." I moved away from the digit.
The man smiled blithely. "Where will you take me now, I wonder?"
"Your stop is here," I simply said. "I don't appreciate being dragged into this freakshow."
"They're going to be after you now."
"Great, the more the merrier—now, off." I elbowed him in the ribs, becoming wary of his size as hard muscle refused to budge.
"You're in danger, Miss Bishop."
I roughly turned around to face him, my eyes wishing they could burn a hole through the visor blocking any clear view of him. "How the hell do you know that name?"
"We met once." He tilted his head to the side, lush hair softly falling over a critical gaze. "You probably can't remember at the moment."
"I've never met you in my life." I probably looked constipated as my mind raked for any resemblance of this man.
I don't want to admit it, but I'd remember a face like his.
The next words jolted into me like lightning, expression dulled by whatever was on his mind. "Your brother told me where to find you."
"My brother has been missing for six years," I spat out bitterly, finally kicking his sorry ass off the bike and standing over him from above.
"Not anymore." The male didn't look threatened, he instead gazed upon me as if I was a vengeful deity. Long legs stretched out on the ground, one of his knees bent gracefully for an arm to prop itself on. The prone position looked elegant as opposed to disheveled, clearly stating that this man oozed refinement no matter where he was.
"I'd like to believe that he's living his miserable life in guilt for unsolicited manslaughter." Repressed pain shot through me, recalling the dreadful incident.
I grimaced at the thought of Maverick's sudden disconnection, to when he finally snapped and did the cruelest thing imaginable. Eveything went downhill after his abrupt disappearance. For it was then that I became a ward of the state. Another child with no means of care, placed in a rundown institute devoted to the care of orphans. It just so happened that the orphanage ran shady business deals, illegal trades, and shifty characters that I was forced to embrace as my childhood.
I grew up too fast, and maybe that's why childish antics stuck around, clinging to the freedom of youth.
"He couldn't control what he did."
"I know what I saw." I laughed without humour, in complete disbelief at his defense towards the act of heartless murder.
My legs went numb, and I didn't bother to stop them as they gave out, thoroughly slumping against the wall in defeat. Street lights and passing cars lit the man's face, a haloing effect that made me frown. In contrast, I was sitting beside him and away from the mouth of the alley; dark attire engulfed in shadow. Though the more I looked at this stranger, the easier I could see it—a darkness that deceives you with outer radiance, something that even night wouldn't dare touch.
"The doctors diagnosed him as clinically insane," I dryly stated.
"He's something unique." A hint of pride entered his tone, only to be erased with mocking contempt. "I'm not surprised detectives couldn't properly solve the case, Unspirits are useless when dealing with things they don't truly understand."
I glanced at the bizarre man. "Who the hell are you again?"
"Take off your helmet."
"Nah." I gave him no room to argue. "I'm keeping it on in case I need to head-butt you."
He blankly stared, before it scrunched into an expression that could only be deemed as fond. "You really are as I remember."
"I think you've got the wrong girl." My brows furrowed from the sudden gentleness of his voice, one that didn't match the owner at all.
"I never make mistakes." Silver eyes dominated all other features as an almost luminescent quality caused them to glow in the darkness.
"Whaddya' mean?" I asked, even more confused by the cryptic answer.
"I've spoken to your brother." He turned away. "I know that you're curious about his current whereabouts."
"You don't know anything about me." I ignored the way my heart anxiously sped up.
"You're running away because the orphanage was dabbling in human trafficking, with you being their first package of delivery."
Great, now I have to deal with a stalker.
I looked down at my worn cotton shirt, black fabric swallowing up any stains of blood that may have been seen otherwise. My skin could still feel the pressure of a hunting knife being swiped, and I almost gagged from the vivid memory. The kidnapping attempt obviously failed, my frantic escape leading me to this current mess.
I studied Mister Current Mess further, concluding that he was probably the same age as my brother, and therefore in his mid-twenties.
"I'm here because of a promise long ago." Even with a helmet blocking his view, the man seemed to stare straight through me.
I watched as he serenely observed street lights filtering through the alley, almost as if he knew that I needed the quite time to think. A sense of peace washed over us as I looked at the calming scene, soft shades of colour bouncing off his silky hair.
"I can give you all the answers about your brother." Unnatural irises took all my attention, ones that brought forth a nostalgic air of remembrance. "Reasons why your family died the way they did."
It felt like I was about to make a deal with the devil.
"Fine." It was an enticing tactic, bribing me with knowledge I've been desperately searching for the past few years. "Only if you also explain all the MCU shit that happened back there."
His returning smile was genuine and wholly unfair in its brilliance.
I don't know their wearer, but I know those eyes.
So why couldn't I remember him?
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🕊 D O V I E 🕊
ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧⋆˚*.⋆
*fanfare plays but it's on the kazoo*
Imagine the characters as you wish, but I'll add a cast/theme for those who want to see how I do!
Introducing our two main protagonists:
Kiko Mizuhara as Novalie Bishop
Lorenzo Zurzolo as Ender Mishal
Lots of revision and editing has gone into Shedding Feathers, with added chapters and a finished ending.
I plan for this to be a realistic story with relationships that progress over time. When Novalie does meet up with her love interest it won't be all flowers and rainbows, it'll be a process of learning about each other while going through the difficulties of two imperfect people.
♡
WARNINGS INCLUDE: Violence, Strong Language, Sexual Themes, Implied Assaults, Substance Use, Suicidal Tendencies, Trauma.
ALSO INCLUDED: Idiotic Dialogue, Fluff Galore, Healthy Relationships, Kickass Protagonist, Stuburn Main Leads Who Both Need A Big Hug.
His & Hers Theme
I hope all you sweet Turtle Doves enjoy this magical adventure, feel free to help out a writing goblin like me by COMMENTING and VOTING! 🖤✨