Bandages.
Yu eyed the woollen strips. There was no way he could wrap them around his own torso. He did not even attempt to. He needed all his focus to keep his frustration and anger in check just for handling his left wing. He was on his third try, and still the damn thing refused to stay in place —
„Hey, who’s eating silling on the toilet?“
The bathroom door swung open. A gust of cold air from the hallway swept in.
Yu froze, half-naked, hunched by the washbasin, cloth and feathers scattered around him, a mess of unrolled bandages in his lap.
“Ah, it’s you,” Deltington, or Estingar, grinned, his eyes flicking over Yu’s exposed torso. “So it’s fina, not silling. My bad.”
Heat rose to Yu’s face despite the chill in the air. He had forgotten to lock the door.
“Please leave.”
“I’m just kidding, I know it was you.”
“Please leave.”
“So, do you live here now? On the toilet?”
“You already asked me that. Are you out of stupid jokes already?”
“Ha! What? Nah, I didn’t see you all morning. Heard you, though. That must have been Estingar! So we have the same jokes, huh?”
“Leave. I swear —”
“If you were an omira, I’d be convinced that you pretty much marked the room as your territory. After yesterday.”
“Leave. I mean it.”
Deltingar leaned against the doorframe. “Shit looks bad. What happened?”
“Nothing. Now go away.”
“Man, you really are shiny.”
“For fuck’s sake, piss off already!” Yu’s feathers bristled. Not that shit joke again.
Deltington just shrugged, still grinning like he owned the place. But, finally, he turned on his heel. “Alright, alright, fine.” He threw a casual wave over his shoulder. Then, the door clicked shut.
Yu sat there, burning with humiliation.
For a split second, he almost called him back. Just to fix the damn bandage.
But his beak refused to open.
And then Deltington was already downstairs.
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