Page 85 of The Mercenary's Guide to Mishaps and Romance

“Fucking hell,” Ellis says as he grabs his chest and stares at the bird bobbing around inside a tiny cage. I don’t know much about birds, but it’s on the larger side and doesn’t seem to have much room.

“I’ll fuck you up! I’ll fuck you up!” the bird announces as it does a dumb little dance.

“Sure, sure. You justtryto fuck me up,” I mutter as I wave my gun at it.

“Don’t you dare shoot the sweet bird,” Ellis says as he rushes over to it. “Oooh, who’s a pretty bird?”

The bird seems pleased by this if its weird little head bob has anything to say about it.

“You poor baby. Does anyone know you’re here?” He turns to look at me. “Did this Nate guy have family to come get the bird?”

“No, but someone will notice it. Why are you worried about the bird? It’s fine,” I growl as I stuff the cake back in his hands and continue on with my B&E.

“You’re in such a small little cage. What if you’re crammed in here for days until someone finds you? Why are you in such a small cage?”

I watch as he sets the cake down and opens the little door before sticking his whole damn hand in there! Like the thing could tear a fucking finger off and eat it for lunch, and he’s like “Here, have my whole damn hand!”

“What the hell are you doing? It’ll just rip your finger off. You don’t know if it’s nice!”

“I don’t think it’ll hurt me… I mean, it might, but I don’t think so. You wanna come out and stretch your wings? Can you even stretch your wings in this cramped little cage?” he says sweetly to the bird. He’s forgotten all about the mission as he gives up his hand to the bird. It holds out a talon and sizes up Ellis’s hand for a moment, likely trying to find where the vitals are, before poking his hand with a foot, like it’s testing it out before climbing on board. Then, when it’s situated enough to let Ellis pull it out, it hops off his hand and onto the top of its cage.

“Isn’t that a pretty bird?”

“Pretty. Pretty,” it repeats in its creepy bird voice as it hops this way and that.

“Ellis, come on.”

“Yes, you’re very pretty,” Ellis coos as he scratches the bird’s head. Its eyes get all half-lidded as it leans into it.

“Ellis,” I say, trying to remind him that we’ve broken in here for a very legit reason that doesn’t include playing with creepy birds.

“I have to go but I’ll make sure someone knows you’re in here, okay? That would be horrible if you starved because no one knew you were here.”

Clearly, all I need to do to have this man smitten by me is to coat myself in feathers and screech the word “pretty.”

“I’m leaving you.”

Ellis gives one last scritch then grabs the container of food and starts pouring it into the bowl until it’s heaping.

“You’re leaving fingerprints oneverything.”

“Who the hell is going to dust the bird food container for fingerprints?” he asks as he then just pours the entire thing out while the bird dances, thrilled by this. “There you go, you cutie pie!”

“I’m gonna fuck you up,” the bird announces.

“I would prefer you didn’t,” Ellis says as he tries to rub the container clean of fingerprints, but like he said, no one is going to be checking it. Then he grabs the cake and hurries after me. That creepy feathered fucker glides down and struts after Ellis, screeching the whole way about how pretty Ellis (or it) is.

“Why is it following us?”

“She’s probably lonely,” Ellis says.

“I don’t trust birds. They’re just looking for ways to peck your eyes out.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure that’s all she’s thinking about.”

“You can tell the gender?”

“Absolutely not. I have no damn idea, but on the food container it said Daisy, so I assume she’s a female. She’s so cute. I’m pretty sure I already love her. She doesn’t really look like a Daisy, does she?” Ellis says. “Daisy?”

---