He arrived bloody, like covered in blood. He said he was going out to practice with his brothers, but then you remembered it’s Saturday, and no matter how busy their schedule is, Saturday was off-limits for their relaxation and leisure. So, as you sat on your bed like usual, a bird caged from its owner, you knew he did something very bad when he arrived all bloody like that. You couldn’t even say anything, like you could ever. You just sat there while he cleaned himself up, discarding his blood stained thousand-dollar designer cloths like it was nothing. Even when you did find your voice, asking what he did, who he killed, it was no use. He just looks at you blankly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear while telling you:

“Oh, just some distractions, I can’t really let anyone know about you, or your so called disappearance”

Cold and straight-forward, leaning in forward before cooing low, soft but firm, staring right at you with a finger pressed on his beak when you seem so distressed because, of course, he just killed someone-

“Shhh, Don’t fret, Nobody would ever know, I just did it to keep you all to myself more”