Nevermore.
He sighed as he placed his over sensitive fingers to his lips. Pale pink that shifted instantly to an ivory as he trailed his fingers to his cheek. The colors danced behind his sightless eyelids – even if he had his blue eyes open they wouldn't see anything. It was his curse, her blessing. Pale plains of porcelain gave way to triangles and blobs of gray: shadows. He registered the fine hair, almost like down, that covered his body, tips of his digits slowly tangling in the line that led down into his pants.
I'm sorry…
He clenched his fist against his hip, teeth biting into his cheek. No. Not now. Not that one. Happy times, that was what he wanted to remember. Not the desperate times of trying to find her, run after her in the foreign streets, have to listen to Max tell him he was stupid and to give it up. Max never told any of the Flock that they were stupid.
Iggy….
He tried to remember the better days. She wasn't with the Flock for long; her wings were made of skin not feathers. Part bat, not part bird. 100% mammalian, no 2% avian genetics in her body, even if she did have wings. A bat could never live with a family of birds.
H-ey! S-stop it!
Her giggle graced his mind. High and echoing, like the chirps of a baby bat. Tears stung at his eyes. He remembered the color of her hair, the mousey brown that would shine red when he held it just right in the sun. He wished he could've seen it.
I can't do this…
Don't follow me!
Stop it!
Don't hurt him!
Oh God….
His jaw ached. Even the worst memories were having an adverse affect on his mind. His long fingers shoved themselves beneath the waist of his pants. It was nothing like her – he was used to dealing with the cards given to him though. He tuned out the remembrance of her screams, how she cried and bartered her life away for his. He strained to hear her giggles, the way she murmured his name when she was first waking up, the way she cried it out as her body arched flushed against his.
Once, twice, thrice, his hips bucked up to meet his palm. It had been too long. He let out a short cry, her name tumbling from his tongue, before he collapsed onto his side. Large white wings extended from his shoulder blades; he was on his back for too long. He curled into himself, wings wrapping around his body in a makeshift cocoon.
"Anabelle…" Small and broken, just like she had been. He curled up tighter, ignoring the sticky white mess on his palm and in his pants. Hot tears made their way down his cheeks. "Anabelle, oh God, I'm so sorry." His body jerked with convulsing sobs, mind slowly shutting down into a pitiful sleep.