#thekrows-nest

Angst/Fluff, SFW - still MDNI🔞

Krow belongs to @thekrows-nest while the Dove OC (Paloma) is mine.

Notes: Please excuse the very short fic, I’m pretty blocked right now.

I made this a late Valentine’s Day for the angst. Also just in case I didn’t finish this/it wasn’t seen in time.

I also had to Google the weather in the place I have as a mental stand-in for Columbidae City, so while there is a rainy season that could push these two together under shelter, I’ve probably taken some creative licence and slightly exaggerated how fresh the mildly cool weather is. Just as an excuse to get shy touch averse Dove to hug up with someone who is only casually familiar.

There’s some slight foreshadowing if you squint. So enjoy.

…

It’s Valentine’s Day! 

Heart in their mouth, Krow goes to their favourite cafe, hoping for a good spot to sketch Dove from. And the courage to slip them the expensive box of chocolates they bought.

Unfortunately the cafe is a lot more popular than they counted on. It’s so busy Krow doesn’t even get to speak to Dove. They’re a distant flustered figure bobbing between the back and the counter, ringing up faster than they’re accustomed to, and hanging back while Gabby tears strips off the entitled couples.

Krow scans the sea of oblivious lovebirds for a place to sit but finds nowhere. Everyone else is gazing into a matched pair of eyes and nobody seems to even see them. Gabby is now raising her voice back and Dove is gone. So as much as Gabby hates Krow, there’s an even smaller chance of being served quickly than usual.

Despite the noise cancelling headphones the environment is overstimulating and Krow feels a growing meltdown. There are surges of being invisible, excluded, trying to suppress panic and rage without publicly biting at their hands. They decide to just leave.

Dejected, Krow goes home and climbs straight into a cold empty bed, curling up for some kind of comfort.

In the morning they see the chocolate box sitting on the counter by itself and it upsets them all over again. Sighing, they decide to go to the food bank (they had to go anyway) to drop those off. Those chocolates were budgeted for and look delicious but Krow just can’t bear to eat an unwanted gift alone.

Walking through the park they tell themselves it was just another day. Back to reality. In their ears Lionel Ritchie sings ‘Stuck On You’. A cool wind seems to blow through their well washed hoodie and into an empty space in their chest. 

Finally glancing up Krow hesitates and yanks their headphones down. Approaching in the distance that almost looks like… Dove? 

They recognise Krow. “Krow?! I think I saw you yesterday but we were so slammed. Where did you go?” They spot the chocolates. “Ah ha. Did you wait to get those half price? That’s good thinking.”

It suddenly begins to spit, the oppressive clouds threatening heavier rain. Still chatting they walk to the nearest bench with some shelter. 

Dove has to squeeze over to avoid a damp spot and lower down awkwardly off balance, bracing their hand on the seat behind Krow’s shoulders. In a daze, Krow tentatively steadies their waist. Dove is forced to sit so close they allow their arm to slip around Krow. “Is this ok? You look a bit cold without a jacket.”

Their respective heights are a little awkward this way but Krow slumps down gratefully and tucks themselves in under Dove’s protective arm like a wing. Dove thinks it’s the cold and envelops Krow tighter, bundling their stocky body and soft textured hoodie in closer. Both of the pair’s cheeks are flushed.

Dove is less shy one on one and with someone slightly familiar. They’ve served Krow many times and the short artist is always sitting quietly in the background, a reassuring presence as they work. Normally they can’t stand being touched but right now it feels natural to huddle and warm the cute slightly smaller person up.

Dove murmurs about their favourite pigeons while idly crumbling a bag of stale bread with their fingers, hoping for some to appear, and Krow studies their free hand. There are slight calluses on their fingertips and smudges of coloured chalk in their nails. They can feel Dove breathing and suddenly the grey drizzling weather can’t touch them.

Dove sighs quietly in relief. “This is so much nicer than the cafe. At least there’s somewhere to sit down. We’re the smart ones alright.” 

After a while Krow takes initiative and hopefully proffers the box. They murmur slyly. “E-even leftover i-it would be a pity to eat these alone, Dove...” 

This is so fitting for Krow. He does make natural pigments and paint with twigs, and my headcanon about the wall murals was made canon.

Krow loves painting like the Dutch old masters (sometimes tempera when there's a spare egg) but has maybe started exploring his own culture too.