I can hear the irritating buzz of his voice, constantly in my ear. Speaking at me. His tone suggests that he has my undivided attention. That it is a given that I am hanging on his every mundane word.
“Haruka, are you listening.” It is never a question, just a reassurance for himself.
My name falls from his lips carelessly, generally followed by a request to help him on some foolish mission where we don't end up killing some idiot Aradama. Set them free, he says, ever adamant. Give them peace, he says, ever wise.
But he forgets who he is dealing with. I can kill him in a heartbeat, this mortal who dares to control me. I can drop him to his death while we are flying. I could strangle him with his own damn bells.
Just because he named me, just because I was grateful for being set free, just because the rules say I owe him? This means I can't leave? No. Impossible I can leave at any time. I am above the rules.
But there is no violence and death when I am surrounded by his overwhelming heat and tightness. There are no thoughts of consequence or obligation. There is only us in our little world where monsters, demons, and priests are but creatures in his fairy tales.
His fingers tug at my feathers and his eyes sweep over them in awe. He rubs them, calming me. His pale digits get lost in the inky blackness of the thick feathers. They tremble under his touch. He says he likes when I have them spread wide. He says I look like an angel.
My name falls from his lips in a frenzy of passion, chanted like one of his spells and sometimes I wonder if he is trying to seal me again. The demands are different when we are like this and I am sure he is listening to me, answering my moans with groans of his own.
Haruka, Haruka, Haruka…
His voice is the only sound in the world I want to hear, telling me he loves me, asking me to stay, babbling on and on about me being his strength. I nuzzle closer to him when he speaks, closing my eyes when he begs.
“Give me peace, Haruka.”