The Doctorâs Anger
Morrel grinned as he watched the doctor pace back and forth in his kitchen, eyes following his every movement. Felicie was so angry and that was such a rare sight. Such a rare, beautiful sight. He wanted to relish every moment he could as Felicie grew angier and angier. âI havenât seen you like this for a very long time, Doctor. Itâs quite entertaining.â He purred, grin widening as Felicie set his scarred eyes to him, blazing with rage. âThere is nothing entertaining about this situation, Ronmorrel! That man, he violated her...he coerced her into breaking those vows, into letting him into her sanctuary. If I were a lesser man I wouldâŚâ âWould have what? You and I both know you arenât inclined to violence.â Morrel said, leaning on his hand as he sipped his tea. âI doubt even in the state youâre in now, you wouldnât be able to harm a hair on that manâs body.â Even though Felicie wouldnât want to admit it, it was true. He would never hurt anyone, not even someone who had hurt a friend. Oh but he wanted to...the thought was there and he could feel it so close. His claws closing in on that...that monsterâs throat, slicing through flesh and sinew until he could feel the wrath of God himself and scream for forgiveness.
âWhat are you thinking, Felicie?â Morrel said quietly, narrowed eyes watching as black feathers sprouted around the manâs neck and ears, a sign that he was truly beginning to feel rage. âYou wouldnât be thinking of something...unholy now would you?â âShut up, Ronmorrel!â Felicie screeched, slamming his hands down on the table, the tea cups rattling as it shook. âI have had enough of your antagonism and attack of my religion! If you canât get your head out of your ass vaffanculo figlo di puttana!â His breath came heavy as he finished his swearing, leaning in close to Morrel, teeth bared before pushing himself away and mumbled a prayer, fingers ghosting over himself in a cross. Morrel chuckled at the tantrum, standing up to put the cups in the sink. âTemper, temper, Doctor. You may want to calm yourself before you rip your shirt with your wings.â Morrel said calmly, glancing to Felicie as he glared at him, giving him a smirk. âOr is it too late?â â...why do you get such enjoyment out of egging me on?â Felicie asked, Italian accent thickening his words. âDo you want to see how far Iâll go before I snap?â âPrecisely.â The red head said, turning around quickly to toss the cup at Felicie.
Wings sprouting from his back, ripping through his shirt, they deflected the cup as Felicie growled. âGo on then. Youâre so angry. Show me how you deal with that anger of yours.â Morrel whispered, opening his arms wide in a âcome at meâ pose. âIâve known you long enough to know youâre not always the passive bird everyone thinks you are. I know more about you than you do yourself. ComeâŚâ At that word, Felicie threw himself at Morrel, claws outstretched as they tumbled to the floor.
-- âYou really had to make it worse, didnât you, Ronmorrel?â Felicie grumbled, gently cleaning the wounds on Morrelâs back that dripped to the floor. âIt was worth it. I NEVER get to feel you so angry like that. It was magnificent.â Morrel purred, eyes closed contently as Felicie bandaged him up. âIt wonât be quite so âmagnificentâ when youâre unable to walk for the next few days. I was...a little too rough.â Felicie said, moving to clean the few bite marks from Morrelâs neck. âMy friend, there is never such thing as âtoo roughâ with me. I enjoyed every bit of it and you are always welcomed to take that anger out on me.â âI donât understand you, MorrelâŚâ âGood. Thatâs the way I like to keep it.â











