[There was a soft shudder at the slow, gentle touches as Michael's fingers drifted over the feathers with intrigue. He worries his bottom lip feeling something ebb through him at the attentions and he nearly stops the other, afraid of what all of this was doing to him. He swallows down the heat, though it reached his cheeks a moment before Michael stops to push a shoulder so they're looking eye to eye once more.

He can't help but to stare incredulously at his twin. He gives a short, humorless back of a laugh, as if he was asking the impossible.]

You act as if that's easy. I have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to do with all of this. Not only have I killed a man in cold blood on the street but I'm some sort of... freak.

How can I possibly hide this? What if I do it again? What if I can't control it or it gets worse? I'm seeing things, like memories I've forgotten. Like these wings've woken up a part of me that was locked away. Like I was meant to be this creature all along but I've been playing human.