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"I only need to finish the sleeves and hem the raw edges. It will take ten minutes or less to complete," Hunter explained, laying the diminutive, incomplete garment on the sewing machine.
"You told me that hours ago," Flapjack remarked with annoyance. He tapped his twig-like foot on the table; since he weighed less than a pound, the result was unsurprisingly underwhelming. "I want it now," he insisted, stretching out the last syllable.
"I had more important tasks to accomplish," Hunter argued, raising his head.
"Am I not the most important person in your life?" Flapjack gasped loudly, sounding utterly betrayed by his best friend. "Et tu, Brute?"
"You know what I'm trying to tell you," Hunter disputed, unimpressed by Flapjack's theatrics.
"The gall, the nerve, the audacity!" Flapjack placed the back of his left wing against his forehead. "You're being so mean to me, Hunter. So mean to the charming, destitute little Flapjack and his poor, fragile, despairing heart. I shall leave and never return."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say." Hunter waved his hand dismissively.
Flapjack channeled the spirit of his presumed past life as a theater actor and fainted with all the drama that entailed.
"You have three more; you can use one of them," Hunter reminded him, leveling the most exhausted stare he could muster at the bird.
"I don't want any of those. I want this one," Flapjack rejected the offer as soon as it arrived.
"Perhaps I shouldn't give you any of them anymore since you keep behaving like that," Hunter announced, stroking his chin and staring at the ceiling. Flapjack knew it was an empty threat; Hunter couldn't deny anything harmless to his friend, even if he was irritating at times. "You don't even need them."
"But, Hunter, I need them," Flapjack stated bluntly. He flew over the sewing machine arm, his eyes as big as plates and as shiny as a lake hit directly by sunlight. He made the most accurate imitation of puppy eyes that a wooden bird could muster. Hunter averted his gaze from the transparent yet persuasive attempt at manipulation.
Hunter addressed Flapjack with sarcastic deference, saying, "Alright, alright, everything for your most esteemed and beloved Highness." Hunter stood up, placing one hand on his stomach and another on his back, and bowed with the same dramatics. The whole show was as amusing to him as his palisman. He attempted to hold back his laughter but started to giggle, breaking the act. Hunter grinned at Flapjack and said fondly, "Be grateful you're so adorable."
"I am!" Flapjack exclaimed shamelessly. He flew toward Hunter's hair, perching himself atop it.
"I can't believe I'm letting myself be bullied by a pesky bird a hundredth my size," Hunter expressed in faux irritation, throwing his right hand theatrically into the air.
In response, Flapjack trod carefully on Hunter's head and offered bright, enthusiastic chirps. Before the conversation could resume, Luz opened the door with as much subtlety as a bulldozer. She scampered down the stairs, jumped down the last flight expertly, darted forward, stopped in front of them, and clapped on the table.
"Guys, guys, you wouldn't believe what Gus and I found," Luz began to announce with great enthusiasm, waving her left hand and beaming. Her sentence trailed off when her eyes landed on a newer, more noticeable item on the sewing machine's bed.
Luz took off the garment before Hunter could react. Her eyes squinted in concentration; she hummed and tilted her head to the side.
"Aw, look at this tiny shirt!" Luz cooed, admiring the outfit with flushed cheeks and large, glistening eyes. She briefly squeezed it with her hands. "So cute! So adorable!"
Hunter stood up and snatched the shirt from her hands without warning. He brought it closer to his chest and glared at Luz defensively.
"Aw, Hunter, why?" Luz complained unhappily about being parted from the garment, brushing off the glare. "Sorry for grabbing it without permission, but it looks so pretty."
"Apologies rejected," Hunter replied. He crossed his arms over his chest and grimaced.
"I'm really sorry, but I still haven't figured out why this is so bad," Luz said, scratching her chin.
"It's none of your business," Hunter replied defensively.
"C'mon, Hunter, you can tell me why this bothers you so much," Luz pleaded, still looking confused by the fuss over the situation.
"None of your business," Hunter insisted emphatically, shaking his head.
"I'm sure the reason is neither bad nor terrible. You can let it out," Luz coaxed him. Her voice was soft and warm, as were her eyes. It communicated her wholehearted confidence in her friend.
"It's just—" Hunter glanced around uneasily. "It's just—it's not terrible, I think." He paused for a moment, a blush creeping across his cheeks. "It's mostly embarrassing."
"Why is this so embarrassing?" Luz inquired, leaning forward and ready to listen to his reasons.
Hunter opened his mouth, made an incoherent sound, and then closed it. Luz bounced on her toes, looking at him with bright eyes. Her impatience began to show, but she chose not to rush him.
"Ilikecutethings," Hunter declared, but he spoke too quietly and quickly for Luz to understand.
"Huh?"
"I like cute things," Hunter stated more slowly than before, his ears turning red and his eyes fixed on his feet.
"Oh," Luz replied with a flat intonation. Hunter, completely misinterpreting her reaction, grimaced and slumped his shoulders. Luz gesticulated wildly to salvage the situation. "Wow, wow. I didn't mean to sound like that. I really didn't. That's not a bad reason, but honestly, it was a little underwhelming, dude."
"Yes, I know I shouldn't make such a fuss about it, but..." Hunter cut his sentence short and sighed.
"It's because they made fun of it. That's why you're so reluctant to tell or show anyone about it," Luz deduced, offering Hunter a sad smile of understanding.
"Oh," Hunter said, acknowledging that Luz had hit the bullseye. He blinked a few times and then smiled tenderly at Luz.
"Yes, that's a big part of why I don't want this information out," Hunter confessed, gripping his hands. "Flapjack knows, but it's different with him." He bit his lip and, after gathering himself, resumed. "But the fact that the oh-so-great Golden Guard, the Emperor's right-hand man, the enforcer of the Titan's will, and the most annoying bastard ever, have preferences for bright colors, cute animals, and soft stuffed animals is incredibly shameful," he began, his words tinged with bitterness and shame. "Having tastes so childish and pathetic is the last thing you want anyone to discover when you try so hard to make them take you seriously, despite your age and connections with the Em—with Belos."
"That doesn't make you a weak little baby. And it's not shameful!" Luz exclaimed with conviction, feeling outraged on Hunter's behalf. That was such an utterly ridiculous belief, in Luz's opinion.
"Oh, yeah, I suppose it's not," Hunter stated gingerly, shrugging.
"It's not, Hunter," Luz insisted, determined not to let him get away with only reluctant acceptance. Luz wouldn't want to admit it, but the subject hit too close to home.
"Still, they had a point. For example, I shouldn't need a stuffed animal to sleep. It's so immature and unnecessary."
"I'm still sleeping with stuffed animals," Luz challenged his opinion.
"I'm older than you," Hunter argued, emphasizing their ages.
"Barely," Luz rebutted.
"I'm, in every respect that matters, an adult."
Luz examined his entire figure. "Oh, yeah, absolutely, a fully grown 16-year-old adult," she replied, laying the sarcasm on thick.
Hunter wanted to persist in this line of reasoning, but when he conceded it wouldn't help his case, he dropped it.
"It's still different."
"Nu-uh, nuh, no, sir. It isn't," Luz said, shaking her head as she cut off the illogical argument. Hunter opened his mouth, but Luz resumed speaking. "You will stop putting yourself on a different standard than the rest of the group this instant." She furrowed her eyebrows and poked his chest with a finger.
"Luz, you understand very well that I should be held to a separate standard. I've served the coven for years. I've always been different from everyone else around my age."
"No, you shouldn't. That's plainly stupid." Luz crossed her arms over her chest, unwilling to concede. "And no, it doesn't matter!"
"You know I'm right, Luz! Please, stop denying it!" Hunter argued, pressing his lips into a thin line.
"No, you're not!"
"Why are you being so stubborn about this?" Hunter asked.
"I'm not the one who is persistently rejecting the obvious!"
"That's—!" Hunter halted. He inhaled and exhaled deeply. Then he suggested, "I believe we have reached an impasse. I think this discussion will prove pointless if we continue. I suggest we agree to disagree and drop the issue."
Luz didn't want to drop the issue, but she looked at how tired her friend appeared and decided it wasn't worth restarting the dispute.
An awkward silence hung over the basement until Hunter exclaimed out of the blue.
"Do you want to see Flapjack's other shirts?" he asked, glancing at Luz curiously.
"Yes!" Luz exclaimed. She clapped, bouncing on the balls of her feet, and Hunter returned to his sewing machine.
"Bring the shirts! Bring the shirts!" Flapjack shrieked, excitedly flapping his wings and catching Luz off guard. Luz screamed, causing Hunter to flinch and almost send the needle where it didn't belong.
"Easy there, Flapjack," Hunter said, steadying his voice as he resumed his work at the sewing machine. "You'll get your shirts soon enough."
"Yes, Flapjack, patience is a virtue," Luz added, giving the palisman a mock-serious look. She then turned her attention back to Hunter, who was deftly stitching the sleeves onto the tiny shirt. The hum of the sewing machine filled the basement, creating a rhythmic background for their conversation.
As Luz watched, she couldn't help but admire Hunter's skill. His hands moved with precision and care, a testament to the countless hours he must have spent perfecting his craft. It was clear that this was more than just a hobby for him; it was a way to express himself and find a sense of control and peace amidst the chaos of his life.
"You're really good at this, you know," Luz said softly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.
Hunter glanced up, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Luz. It's... it's something I enjoy. It helps me focus."
"I get that," Luz replied, nodding. "We all need something like that. For me, it's drawing and creating those crazy glyph combinations."
Hunter chuckled. The sound was warm and genuine. "Yeah, I've seen some of those. They're pretty impressive."
Luz beamed at the compliment, feeling a surge of pride. "Thanks, Hunter. That means a lot."
The conversation drifted to other topics as Hunter finished the final stitches on the shirt. Luz recounted her and Gus' latest adventure, complete with animated gestures and exaggerated expressions that had Hunter laughing out loud. Moments like these reminded him of how much he valued their friendship and how much he had come to rely on their support and camaraderie.
"There, all done," Hunter announced, holding up the completed shirt for Flapjack's inspection.
The palisman's eyes lit up, and he fluttered over to perch on Hunter's shoulder, examining the tiny garment with great interest. "Magnificent! A work of art! Truly worthy of the great Flapjack!"
Hunter rolled his eyes, but he couldn't suppress a smile. "Glad you approve, Your Highness."
Luz laughed. The sound was bright and infectious. "Alright, let's see those other shirts you mentioned."
Hunter nodded and pulled out a small box from under the table. He opened it to reveal an array of tiny, meticulously crafted shirts in various colors and patterns. Luz's eyes widened in delight as she sifted through them, marveling at the detail and care that had gone into each one.
"These are amazing, Hunter," she said, holding up a shirt with a whimsical pattern of stars and moons. "You could sell these, you know. People would love them."
Hunter shrugged, slightly bashful. "Maybe someday. For now, it's just something I do for Flapjack and myself."
Luz selected a few shirts, holding them up to the light and admiring the craftsmanship. "Well, if you ever decide to start a business, you've got your first customer right here."
Hunter laughed, feeling the warmth spread through him at Luz's enthusiasm. "I'll keep that in mind."
As Luz continued to browse the shirts, Hunter's thoughts wandered back to their earlier conversation. He realized that, despite his initial reluctance, it had felt good to share a part of himself with Luz. It was a small step, but it was a step toward healing, toward accepting that it was okay to have vulnerabilities, interests, and passions that didn't fit the mold of the stoic, unflinching Golden Guard.
"Hey, Luz," he said, his voice thoughtful. "Thanks for listening. And for not judging."
Luz looked up, her expression soft and understanding. "Anytime, Hunter. We're friends, and friends are there for each other no matter what."
Hunter nodded, feeling a sense of gratitude and relief wash over him. He wasn't alone in this journey. He had friends who cared, who understood, and who accepted him for who he was, quirks and all.
"Alright, Flapjack. Are you ready to try on your new shirt?" Hunter inquired, holding up the freshly sewn garment.
Flapjack chirped excitedly, hopping onto the table and spreading his wings. "Ready! Ready!"
Hunter carefully dressed the palisman, adjusting the shirt so that it fits perfectly. Flapjack preened, admiring his reflection in a small mirror.
"Looking sharp, buddy," Luz said, giving Flapjack a thumbs-up.
The palisman puffed out his chest, clearly pleased with himself. "Indeed! I'm the most fashionable palisman in the Boiling Isles!"
Hunter and Luz laughed, their voices filling the basement with warmth and camaraderie. Moments like these reminded Hunter of the importance of friendship and the strength that comes from being vulnerable and allowing others to see the real him. As the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the basement, Hunter felt content. He had faced his fears, shared a part of himself, and found acceptance in the process. And that, he realized, was the greatest victory of all.