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Nothing happened for quite a while.

Ezriel had been brought inside and placed on the softest hoodie Matt owned, still unresponsive to any touches. He sucked in a breath as his eyes landed on a partially crumpled wing, wincing in sympathy. He wasn't entirely sure what to do, but the spasms had stopped and the fairy was still breathing, so he decided to leave him be for a bit and not touch anything else.

Minutes blurred into hours and the moon rose high into the sky, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the other. He sat down at the table and rested his head in his arms, studying him up close. It was definitely the same person from the crowd, with his strange clothes and all, but how could this be real? Everybody knew that fairies didn't exist, and yet here one sat despite Matt repeatedly pinching himself to wake up from this dream. But nothing happened- the two of them remained in the same room, and the reality of it all slowly began to sink in.

If he really is real, why did he come here? Matt's mind began to spin, feeling intimidated by the creature he'd brought into his home.

Had he somehow pissed off the fae? Was he secretly caught up in some elaborate plan to steal his soul and just discovered something he shouldn't have? Would the fairy be mad when he woke up? Or reward him perhaps? Clearly he could do magic-- were wishes a real thing too? Were curses?

After a while his gaze shifted over to the window beside the table, watching the raindrops streak down the glass with a flat expression. This weather had been unexpected; it wasn't uncommon for it to rain out of the blue at this time of year, but it probably sucked for anything with wings if the blonde's horrified look from earlier was anything to go off of. 

Matt sighed as he took one last look at the table before getting up. His shoulders ached from the show and from leaning on his arms for so long. He tried to massage them, but he just couldn't reach it right so he figured a hot shower would help him loosen up and de-stress a little. He left the table unattended as he went to prepare it, thinking he still had some time to process things.

But while he was busy with that, Ezriel began to stir.

The fairy felt sore all over, and could hardly move at first. What happened? He groaned, rubbing his eyes and blinking until he could see properly again. But when his eyes landed on the faraway ceiling instead of the palace roof and the events of evening came flooding back to him, he started to panic. 

He really didn't make it home.

His arms shook as he pushed himself to sit up, trying to get a better look at his surroundings. He could see that he was off the ground, but not very high up. Most of the interior was foreign to him but his attention was quick to land on a guitar mounted on the wall. He bristled as he realized that Matt must have found him, his panic only rising.

Why did he want him? Was it for his wings? His magic? His life?

No, he wouldn't sit here and let that happen. He was a fast flier and could easily escape the musician's grasp before he could reach him, he just had to find a way out of here before that even had a chance of happening. Luckily he seemed to be alone for now, and unrestrained. There was no better time for escape. 

He climbed out of the strange fabric nest with a bit of struggle, still fighting the pain in his body and a lingering fuzzy feeling in his head that made everything hard to think about. Once his feet hit the sleek wooden table he kicked off with as much force as he could muster, but barely got a flap in before he fell back down to the table. 

His head whipped around as he stared in utter disbelief at his wings that were failing him. Or more specifically, the one that was cracked and bent a different direction at the end. His disbelief melted into a deep fear that made his blood run cold. If he couldn't fly, he couldn't get away-- Couldn't get home. He was already in trouble for a myriad of things and he'd missed curfew by now for sure, but it would be disastrous for the prince to just disappear entirely.

His hands started to fidget.

What would his family think? Would he ever see them again? 

No matter how charming Matt was, a human is still much, much bigger than any fairy. He could do whatever he wanted to Ezriel, if he was stuck here like this. He was hungry and sore and tired and he couldn't feel his magic at all-- and on top of everything he was flightless, which left him more scared than anything.

He couldn't get out of here without some sort of deal, but he didn't want to be indebted past anything he couldn't owe. He frantically tried to come up with a way to escape, but his head provided him with nothing except a deep ache.

It was hard to think straight, and before he was ready for it a pair of heavy human footsteps was coming his way. 

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