Annoyed

                                    

                                          
Grian POV
Mumbo should really mind his own business. My feathers are fine. So what if they itch a little? My wings are fine—I’m not neglecting anything. I’ve just got too much on my plate right now to sit around and worry about a few stray feathers. Hot Guy’s still out of commission, and his villains certainly aren’t taking a break. So why should I?
I adjusted my jacket, my fingers twitching slightly as I tugged at the fabric. His words lingered in the back of my mind, as annoying as they were. "Take care of yourself, Grian," he'd said. Like it was that easy. Like I could just wave a wand, and suddenly everything would be fine.
I pushed the thought away as I stepped out onto the street, blending seamlessly into the evening crowd. The cool air bit at my skin where the magic concealed my wings, but I ignored it. My watch buzzed softly on my wrist, reminding me there was always something else to handle.
“Cute Guy, report,” StarVoid’s voice crackled through the communicator.
I pressed a finger to my ear, my pace steady. “I’m here, Star. Just finished up at HQ. What’s the status?”
“Reports of mob activity near the west bridge. Possible interference from one of Hot Guy’s usual suspects. Need you to check it out,” Xisuma’s voice was calm but firm, as always.
“On it,” I replied, already scanning the streets for a clear path to take off.
As soon as I was out of sight, I dropped the disguise. My feathers flared out as I stretched my wings, a faint itch reminding me of Mumbo’s earlier comments. I shook it off, launching into the sky with a powerful beat of my wings. The city below blurred as I focused on my destination, adrenaline sharpening my senses.
It wasn’t until I reached the west bridge and saw the chaos unfolding that I allowed myself a brief smirk. Villains didn’t take breaks, and neither did I. I’d prove to Mumbo—and to myself—that I could handle this. No rest. No breaks. Just the mission.
I focused, my mind sharpening as I dealt with the mess in front of me. Hot Guy was still recovering from the Watcher’s assault, and there was no way I was going to take a break—not now, at least. I kept telling myself that, even as I could feel the slight ache in my wings, the neglected feathers itching in frustration.
Yeah, I was irritated. It had taken months for Hot Guy to heal enough to be sent out on any missions again, and even then, it was just small stuff. Nothing that really tested him. Honestly, I was frustrated with the whole situation. Hot Guy was supposed to be this perfect hero, and I had to watch him struggle through recovery. Even worse, I couldn’t even rely on him to join me on major missions because he was always injured or just... out of commission.
Then, when we were finally assigned together on missions, it felt like we barely knew each other. Hot Guy had always been this distant figure to me. We didn’t have any history—just the occasional passing words when things were calm. I thought we would get along better, but instead, I ended up more irritated than ever.
Maybe it was the fact that I had been neglecting my wings this entire time. Maybe I hadn’t been the best at taking care of myself. But when I met Hot Guy, when I finally had to team up with him properly, it was like everything hit me at once. I was irritated beyond belief, my patience fraying as I struggled to adjust to the new dynamic. And then, of course, there were my wings. I’d been ignoring them for so long, letting them grow wild and unkempt. 
Grian POV
I couldn’t let anyone see my wings in their current state—not unless I wanted to be the subject of gossip for a week straight. So, I used magic, dulling them down, making them blend into the shadows, keeping their natural colors hidden from prying eyes. They were dark now, almost black, the feathers smooth and sleek under my control, though underneath I could feel the slight itch of neglected wings.