Fallen General's Omega (BL)-Chapter 198: Dance

Grape watches sulkily from the garden bench as Mona shooes him away with a flick of her hand. She’s too busy entertaining Mimi, the tiny human who once annoyed him with her clumsy affections but now no longer spares him a glance.

Lately, loneliness has been a constant companion for Grape. His humans are mates and they are consumed with their offspring, leaving him to fend for his own entertainment.

With a disgruntled ruffle of his feathers, Grape hops to the ground, considering his plight. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s time to find his own mate. A partner to fill the void and distract him from his neglected status.

The problem is, no one seems interested. The birds around here are haughty, unimpressed by his charms or his well-groomed plumage. One particularly humiliating incident comes to mind—he’d approached a stunning bird with his best dance, only to discover she already had a mate who promptly chased him off.

But today feels different.

His sharp eyes catch sight of her—a vision perched gracefully on a nearby tree. Her feathers gleam in the sunlight as she preens herself, running her beak through her pristine plumage. She’s beautiful, elegant, and everything he’s been searching for.

This is his chance.

Grape puffs up his chest, smoothing his feathers and preparing himself for the performance of a lifetime. With a determined flap of his wings, he hops closer, his tiny heart beating with anticipation. It’s time to dance.

And this time, he won’t be chased away.

***

Rhett’s concentration is admirable as he focuses on the hovering rock, his brow furrowed in determination. But my attention is stolen by an unexpected spectacle.

It’s Grape.

The pudgy bird with his glossy blue-green feathers catches my eye as he flutters toward a grey bird perched elegantly on a nearby tree. I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. What is that little troublemaker up to now?

I lean back on the bench, watching as Grape lands with a purposeful hop. For a moment, he just stands there, puffing out his chest like he’s trying to look twice his size. Then, it begins.

Grape starts his "dance."

It’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen. He shuffles his feet in uneven, clumsy steps, flapping his wings awkwardly as if he’s forgotten how they work. He hops in a circle around the grey bird, pausing now and then to puff out his chest and chirp what I can only assume are sweet nothings.

I can’t help it—I burst out laughing, the sound loud and unrestrained.

"Oh no," I manage to gasp between fits of laughter. "What is he doing?"

The grey bird doesn’t even try to hide her disinterest. She tilts her head, her beady eyes narrowing as if she’s judging him with every clumsy move. Still, Grape doesn’t give up. He hops closer, flaring his tail feathers and giving an exaggerated wiggle.

I double over, clutching my stomach as tears of laughter stream down my face.

"Is he... is he moonwalking?" I choke out, watching as Grape awkwardly shuffles backward, his wings flapping wildly for balance.

By now, the grey bird looks outright offended. She takes a deliberate step away, ruffling her feathers as if to say, Stay back. But Grape doesn’t get the hint. He chirps louder, hopping around her in a desperate attempt to win her favor.

The final straw comes when Grape attempts a grand finale—a leap into the air with an enthusiastic flap of his wings. Except he misjudges the landing entirely, tumbling forward and landing in an undignified heap at her feet.

That’s it. The grey bird has had enough. With a sharp squawk, she spreads her wings and takes off, leaving Grape sitting there, looking utterly defeated.

"Oh my gods," I wheeze, wiping tears from my eyes. "Grape, what was that?!"

The little bird turns his head toward me, his feathers ruffled and his expression somehow managing to convey both indignation and heartbreak.

"Don’t look at me like that," I say, still chuckling. "You gave it your best shot. She just wasn’t the one."

Grape huffs—or at least, I imagine he does—and waddles away with as much dignity as he can muster, clearly done with the day.

Grape lands clumsily in my lap, his feathers ruffled and his pride in shambles. He lets out a pitiful chirp, burying his little head against my shirt as if the weight of rejection is too much to bear.

I bite back a laugh, determined to keep my composure for the sake of my sulking first child.Gently, I run my fingers over his soft feathers, soothing his bruised ego.

"There, there," I murmur, stroking the top of his head. "It’s not the end of the world, Grape. That just means she wasn’t the one for you."

He lets out another mournful chirp, his beady eyes peeking up at me as if to say, You don’t understand my pain.

I press my lips together to keep from laughing outright. "Plenty of birds in the sky, right? You’re a catch, Grape. That grey bird doesn’t know what she’s missing."

He wiggles slightly, adjusting himself in my lap like he’s pondering my words. His feathers fluff up a little, and for a moment, I think he might regain some of his usual confidence.

"See?" I say, scratching gently under his chin. "Feeling better already."

Grape responds with a soft chirp, a sound I optimistically take as agreement.

"Now, how about we work on some new moves?" I whisper conspiratorially, leaning in like I’m sharing a grand secret. "We’ll show that grey bird what she missed. Maybe add a spin or two?"

To my surprise, Grape pulls back slightly, fixing me with a sharp glare, his little beady eyes narrowed as if I’ve just insulted his entire lineage. For a moment, I’m taken aback.

"What?" I say, chuckling nervously. "I’m just trying to help—"

Before I can finish, Grape flaps his wings dramatically and takes off, leaving my lap in a huff. The way he soars into the air with an exaggerated indignation is almost comical, and I can’t help it—I burst into laughter. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

"No sense of humor, huh?" I call after him between fits of giggles. "Fine, but don’t come crying to me when your next dance doesn’t work either!"

Grape doesn’t so much as glance back, his feathery little form disappearing into the trees like the offended diva he clearly is. This is why he can’t get a mate.