His wide shoulders are covered in a white button down that hangs loosely at his hips where his body meets dark inky hair and strong horse like legs. The feathers of his wings glisten in the sunlight and he walks a line in front of us like he’s every bit a proud, beautiful creature.
“Mr. Sovern...” He faces the small class of winged Prod’s but his bright blue eyes are focused intently on the nephilim at my side, “I’d assume you’re as kind as we’re going to get. I’d also like to think you’re a confident flier.”
Syko arches a pale eyebrow at the professor but says nothing.
I wonder if he ever gets sick of people calling him nice. I mean, he is. Syko is a nice guy. He’s also a smart mouth asshole if you say the wrong thing to him. He’s also a fiercely protective brother and boyfriend if you treat the people he cares about the wrong way. And he’s also... a filthy sexual lover.
So maybenicejust barely scratches the surface as far as Syko Sovern is concerned.
“Hit the clouds and try to keep a clear mind and a generous attitude as you fly.” Professor Ravenstorm’s big arms fold across his chest and his long dark hair blows in the wind as he waits for Syko to take off.
“That’s it? Just... fly?” Syko’s wings slices out through his white button-down shirt with so much slowness I can see every drop of blood that stains through the cloth.
Academy of Six must have magically phenomenal dry cleaners somewhere on this endless campus.
“I’ll time you, son. You got thirty seconds to complete the short flight from here to our classroom doors.”
My gaze glances to the arched wooden door that’s just a few yards away. I could walk there in thirty seconds. Syko will be lounging on the front steps with the sun against his perfect face in three seconds flat.
I smirk and notice that Syko too has a small tilt to his full lips.
This class is going to be a breeze. Even for me.
“Go,” Ravenstorm bellows.
Syko’s jaw clenches hard just before his knees bend with determined force and like a shooting star he soars so fast he’s a blur of pure white and bloody red. Wind twirls my hair around my face but I never look away from his image that’s becoming smaller and smaller.
The cool air shifts though.
It becomes a panicked strength that gusts across the grass. The fluffy clouds above turn an angry dark shade that shadows out the sun just as thunder booms a quaking roar all around me.
“Syko,” I whisper, eyes big and searching.
But I can’t spot him.
A screeching call gets caught in the reckless wind and my eyes hurt, begging for me to close against the debris but I refuse to look away until I see him. Tiny dots swoop through the clouds like seagulls diving toward an ocean but I can’t make out the creature’s image.
The press of the wind staggers my stance and the shaking crawl of the thunder never halts.
Until something large starts to fall from the sky. Limbs and wings fold in on themselves and I’m already rushing forward against the violent wind. My feet pound over the dirt, my lungs burn and my eyes narrow. I leap with intent, my wings catching the heavy breeze. And the weight of his body pulls me right back down the moment my arms wrap around Syko’s battered body.
Dark eyes look up at me with a half smirk still tilting his arrogant lips. “Heaven was right. He is a jackass.” His groan shakes through him as he stands slowly, my hands still hovering over his tattered white shirt and red lines that are scratched into his dirty face.
“Here weatherwings. Here birdies. Here,” Professor Ravenstorm makes a calling noise with a clicking of his tongue and the moment he speaks, the winds calm, the clouds part, and the sun warms my skin once more.
The winged centaur picks up a brown satchel and his big hand pulls out a fist full of black seed that he tosses down in the grass. The food barely hits the ground when hundreds of darts fall from the sky. I duck in cover and Syko merely wraps his big arms around me and pulls me against his chest.
“Weatherwings,” Syko grumbles from behind me.
Spear like birds hit the dirt beak first and begin frantically eating the treat Ravenstorm is continuing to toss out for them. The creatures are so thin I have no idea where the tiny silver birds are putting it all.
“Weatherwings are creatures with an abundance of static electricity in their feathers. As a defense mechanism, when they start to feel in danger, they use that built up static to scare off their predators. Like cocky boys who think they own the skies.” The Professor’s blue eyes shift to Syko who simply stares back at him like he’s not covered in bird shit and talon scratches.
“Being courteous is a key factor in coexisting with others. Not just when you fly but when you live in general.” He bends at the waist and when he extends his index finger, a petite little weatherwing hops up with a small spark highlighting its talons. “Now,” Professor Ravenstorm says with a happy smile at his little creature, “Who’s next?”
Everyone groans simultaneously.
Clearly, this will not be the easy class I wrote it off to be. I slump into Syko’s body even more and I feel the solidness of him lean into me right back.
