He found out/Her special secret (Actor Mark x Harmony (OC) story)

*~He found out/ Her special secret~*

     Mark finally spoke, "I... I don't understand. Are these... real? Like, really yours?"

     "Y-Yes..." Harmony replied.

     A heavy silence was met from that reply, neither quite knowing what to say or do...

     Harmony broke the silence, not able to contain her thoughts for much longer by uttering, "You don't find them.. disturbing? Odd? Freakish? A-abnormal?"

     "I think the words you're looking for are beautiful, majestic, ethereal, and lovely," Mark replied with a sincere smile.

     "B-But they don't upset you? Not at all?" Harmony asked.

     Mark shook his head, his eyes now leaving the wings to gaze into her own. He hated what he saw. She looked so afraid. Mark hadn't exactly noticed before. Why was she reacting this way? Was it something he'd said? Or.. perhaps it hadn't a thing to do with him, but rather... yes. The longer he looked into those pained eyes, the more clear it seemed to him. This wasn't the first time someone had discovered her wings. And whoever had, had reacted very poorly to them and to her. He was sure of it. The thought nearly made him see red. How could anyone ever do this sweet creature harm?

     "Harmony. Even if you suddenly grew a third limb, you're still my friend. And... I still lo-like you..." Mark corrected himself quickly, pushing away the heat that wanted to invade his cheeks. "...v-very much. Nothing could change that."

     Harmony's eyes gleamed with crystal tears and she whimpered in such relief, "Mark. Oh Mark, thank you so much."

     Her lip quivered, tears remaining within her eyes. He could tell she desperately needed to be held by him, but she remained standing where she was. It seemed she still had doubts, and Mark was not for that. Closing the gap between the two, he wrapped his strong, secure arms round her, careful not to even rub against her exposed wings.

     "There now. It's okay, love. Just let it all out," Mark soothingly whispered to her.

     So Harmony sobbed, partially in relief, and partially in sorrow. She was so grateful to how Mark took this. She was terrified things would have been far different. She was terrified she'd lose one of her dearest friends. Her small hands clutched onto the lapels of his suit, burying her face into his chest, her tears disappearing into the jacket as soon as they pattered upon it. Mark held her the entire time, letting her cry. Someone had indeed hurt her badly, and Mark only felt hate towards the one to have done so. Seeing her in such pain killed him. 

     Mark's eyes wandered down her back to where the wings met her skin, following the curl of bone within all the way down to the very tips of her wings. They were so beautiful. How was it even possible? A question for another time. However the longer he stared, the more he could no longer deny the desire to want to feel them. He knew it may be a tad insensitive and maybe even a tad inappropriate to do so at the moment, but he couldn't help himself.

     "Can.. may I touch them?" he asked a little above a whisper as Harmony's tears slowed to a stop.

     When Mark heard no reply for a few moments, he was worried he may have overstepped his boundaries. However, he was relieved to hear her voice chime in, "I-if.. you'd like to. Please be gentle. They're very fragile and sensitive too."

     "Of course," was all Mark could reply.

     Harmony wasn't all too keen on anyone touching her wings... In fact, she downright didn't like it. None had her permission to do so, but that didn't stop people. Grabbing and poking and prodding and pulling. So rough. So mercilessly. So repulsed, like she was some freak. So she took to hiding them daily. Yes, it hurt, keeping her wings scrunched into the mere fabric covering her back. They'd need constant care now, only being released from their confines when she was certain she was alone, or in the night as she went to sleep. They'd ache, sometimes even throb in protest, almost telling her 'why do you do this to us? Were not meant to be treated like this.' The pain sometimes made her shed tears, some tears falling for how cruel the world could be to her when she tried so hard to give it a reason not to be. Dresses were easier, as she could let the ends of her wings hide within the skirt, so she took to wearing dresses more often. And she liked dresses in general too.