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Summary
With another quiet groan, Missa turned onto his side, near tears as his mind still refused to quiet. Why tonight? Why couldn't he at least rest tonight?
He stared at the wall of black feathers that was Phil's back, letting out a tiny whine of despair.
The wings were always so soft. And they'd be so warm, and maybe they would make him feel better, sooth him down to sleep...maybe...
...He was faced with a decision.
After a long day of bonding with his sweet child Chayanne, chasing him around for hours, Missa was exhausted. But his thoughts refuse to quiet, and he cannot sleep, no matter the hours that he lay in bed. He stole gentle touches from Phil in the night before, what was one more brush against dark feathers to try to sooth himself to sleep? What harm could it be?~~~~Hello everyone, part three has arrived. I love you Pissa nation, I bring you food, and plenty of it.
I love you all.
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