five times kissed pretend I sent this from monophile
You like to think of apologies as cupcakes: sentiment as the batter, desire for redemption as the frosting, a kiss of promise to a neck halo of feathers as the cherry on top.
You don't know what makes you smile and giggle more at the moment, if the bird puns he spews continuously or the tickle of feathers in your cheek as he decides to perch on your chest.
On a rare moment of solemn contemplation, you lay your head on his lap as he spills one of his saddest stories: tears fall on your face while you kiss the invisible bruises on the knuckles of his hands.
You don't know who this soothes more, if you or him, but you know you're at peace among the rustling of wings, grooming them thoroughly, only stopping to ask for more kisses from chirping lips.
"I'm proud of you," your arms are wrapped around his waist, and you lean to press sweet kisses to the nape of his neck. "I'm so happy you didn't slip away."