Trying to Wake CG

                                    

                                          
Scar pov 
I'll admit, I didn’t think much of it when Mumbo excused himself to use the restroom and stretch his legs. The guy had been cooped up with Grian all day, so who could blame him? But what I didn't expect was to be left in his place, effectively trapped by a feathered ball of neediness.
The moment Mumbo left the room, Grian shifted, his sleepy eyes opening just enough to spot me. Without a word, he wriggled closer, his wings fluffing slightly as he reached out and latched onto me. His grip wasn’t strong—more lazy and clumsy than anything—but every time I so much as shifted, there it was: an irritated chittering sound, somewhere between a bird’s warble and an exasperated huff.
I froze, half amused and half wary. “Really, Grian? You’re gonna hold me hostage now?” I muttered under my breath. He didn’t respond, of course, just buried his face against my side, his feathers rustling as he got comfortable.
Every attempt I made to move was met with the same sound of disapproval, a little louder each time. It was like trying to leave without waking a very grumpy, very fluffy guard dog.
I sighed, leaning back into the couch and accepting my fate. “Alright, alright. You win, Tweety Bird. I’m not going anywhere.”
Grian didn’t say anything—he was barely awake—but I swear his hold on me tightened just slightly, like he was making sure I wasn’t bluffing. His wings shifted, draping over me like a blanket. They were soft and warm, and despite myself, I felt a small smile tug at my lips.
“This is what I get for checking in on you,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “But hey, if you wanted me to stay, you could’ve just asked. No need for the whole ‘clingy bird of doom’ routine.”
He let out a soft, contented sigh in response, his breath warm against my side. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly. Grian could be a pain sometimes, sure, but moments like this? They reminded me why I stuck around.
Still, as much as I didn’t mind being his temporary perch, I couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” I whispered, brushing a stray feather away from his face. “Otherwise, I’d be plotting my escape right about now.”
Of course, there was no response—just the sound of his steady breathing as he drifted deeper into sleep. And honestly? I didn’t mind. If being stuck here meant Grian could finally rest, then I’d take it.
Mumbo eventually came back from the bathroom, looking visibly more relaxed now that he’d had a moment to himself. He paused in the doorway, eyeing the situation with a knowing smirk.
"Watch out when he adjusts his feet," Mumbo warned, nodding toward Grian’s sprawled form clinging to me like a human barnacle. "If you move too much, he’ll dig those claws into your leg—and trust me, they’re sharp."
I raised a brow at that. "Sharp? He’s half asleep. How bad could it be?"
Instead of answering, Mumbo rolled up the hem of his pant leg, revealing a series of faint but undeniable claw marks running along his shin. "See these? This is what happens when you underestimate a clingy bird. And before you ask, no, trimming his nails while he’s out like this isn’t an option either. I’ve tried, and let’s just say it didn’t go well."
I couldn’t help but laugh softly, glancing down at Grian’s peaceful face. "So what you’re saying is, I should just stay perfectly still and accept my fate?"
"Pretty much," Mumbo replied with a shrug. "He’s stubborn when he’s like this. But I’m going to try waking him up in a minute to get him to eat something. Here’s hoping he doesn’t put up a fight."