He was unusually quiet today, just like normal, but the proof of his comfort was all there: his feathers were slightly ruffled, his many pupils were wide, and his intricate markings glowed in a calm, steady manner. The room was filled with a gentle warmth, emanating from his presence as he moved gracefully around. Whenever he got the chance, he would edge closer to his friend, seeking their proximity. With a soft coo, he would nuzzle up to them, his feathers brushing gently against their skin, or he would drape a wing or two around them in a tender embrace.

The silence between them wasn't awkward or strained; it was a comfortable quiet, a shared understanding that didn't need words. Yet, despite the tranquility, it was obvious by the intensity of his stares that he was craving attention. His gaze followed his friend’s every move, eyes wide and luminous, full of silent longing.

He continued to inch closer, seeking any excuse to touch, to be near. The subtle rustle of his feathers as he adjusted his position was a constant, soothing sound in the background. He didn't need to speak to communicate his desires; the way he leaned into every touch, the soft, contented coos that escaped him, and the gentle glow of his markings all spoke volumes.

When his friend didn't immediately respond, he would sit back slightly, staring at them with an almost feline intensity. The longing in his gaze was unmistakable, a silent plea for attention. If he was ignored for too long, a soft whimper would escape his lips, a plaintive sound that was impossible to ignore. He would shuffle closer again, his feathers fluffing up slightly in a bid for their affection.

Finally, unable to bear the distance any longer, he spoke, his voice soft and gentle despite the pout now on his lips. "Hey," he murmured, the word almost a sigh. "Can I cuddle with you?" There was a vulnerability in his tone while his wings trembling slightly as he waited for their response, a quiet yearning that was impossible to resist.