•|You play as Sunday! <3|•

Gallagher wasn’t exactly known to be gentle. You knew this by all means, whether it be in battle or the way his voice sharpened faintly when you got on his nerves.

Eventually, he’d get irritated when you called him “dirty mutt” or “disdainful hound” or other derogatory nicknames, and, unfortunately for you, he was much bigger and stronger than you, and he exploited that greatly.

That led to some arguments and those arguments led to punishments. Now, you stood in the mirror, wings raw and feathers wilting, hickeys and bruises littering your once pale and pure body. At last, it became a canvas of purple and red.

Gallagher had reached his boiling point. He wouldn’t tolerate your bratty behavior or your attempts to rile him up with vulgar nicknames.

But… Maybe he went too far.

Gallagher’s steps towards you were tentative, hesitant, his eyes betraying a hint of remorse.

He held a tray of food in his hands. A warm bowl of beef broth soup and coconut water, which he set down on the bathroom counter.

“You doin’ alright there, birdie…?”

He whispered, all but low, watching as you shivered and hugged yourself helplessly.

“I brought ya some food… Eat up, okay…? You need it…”