Not proof-read
Rody sat by the small, crackling fireplace in his cozy cottage, staring blankly at the wooden ceiling. The sound of chirping crickets from the nearby forest filled the cool evening air, but the noise inside his home was anything but peaceful.
“Rody, I made you some tea!” Vincent’s soft voice called out from the kitchen.
Rody didn’t even need to look. He could feel the fluttering of tiny wings near his ear as the pixie hovered beside him, holding up a thimble-sized teacup with an exaggeratedly proud grin. Vincent, one of the two minuscule intruders who had claimed Rody’s life for themselves, beamed up at him with his usual affection.
“I added honey this time. You like honey, don’t you?” Vincent asked, his black eyes shimmering with anticipation.
Before Rody could even answer, a frustrated huff sounded from across the room. “Oh please, like he’d drink that,” Manon’s voice came next, sharp and full of disdain. She was perched on the edge of Rody’s bookshelf, arms crossed, her little brown wings flicking irritably. Her long, chestnut hair shimmered in the firelight, her glare aimed solely at Vincent. “What he really needs is proper food, not whatever concoction you’re making.”
Vincent turned to her with a scowl. “It’s tea, not a concoction! And Rody likes it!”
“I like it fine,” Rody mumbled, trying to keep the peace, though he honestly couldn’t care less about the tea. He wasn’t even sure if pixies knew how human taste buds worked.
Vincent gave him a warm, adoring smile and darted closer, his wings buzzing as he hovered in front of Rody’s face. “See? He likes it. Don’t listen to her, Rody. She doesn’t understand you the way I do.”
“Oh, shut it, Vincent,” Manon snapped, flying off the shelf and zipping over to Rody’s other side, her wings giving a loud buzz as she circled his head like an angry wasp. “I understand him better than you ever will. You’re just a delusional little pest!”
“And you’re so much better?” Vincent shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “He only tolerates you because you’ve been here longer.”
“Tolerates?” Manon gasped, incredulous. “I’m his first love. He was mine long before you even knew he existed!”
“That’s not how it works!” Vincent practically shrieked, his pale face turning red as he flew up to meet her in the air, the two of them squaring off as their wings beat furiously.
Rody, meanwhile, sighed deeply and sank further into his chair, rubbing his temples. This had become his daily life. The once-peaceful solitude of his cottage had been shattered the moment these two decided he was their personal object of affection. He couldn’t remember exactly how it had started-one day, he was just living his quiet life, tending to his garden and chopping firewood, and the next, they appeared one after the other. Two tiny, annoying, lovestruck pixies who had somehow gotten it into their heads that he was their perfect mate.
“Guys,” Rody said, but his voice went unheard over their escalating argument.
“I’ve known Rody since he was a child!” Manon yelled, fists clenched. “I watched him grow up! I protected him!”
“Oh, yes, great job,” Vincent sneered, his tone biting. “You protected him so well he didn’t even know you were there!”
“That’s the point, you idiot! We’re supposed to be invisible to humans!”
“Well, guess what? I’m not invisible anymore, and he likes me!” Vincent’s wings flared out, making him seem as intimidating as a two-inch-tall pixie could possibly be.
Rody groaned and leaned his head back against the chair. “Can you two please stop fighting for five minutes?” he muttered, though he knew it was a hopeless request. They never listened.
Both pixies stopped mid-flight, turning toward him in unison. Vincent, quick to capitalize on the moment, flew down and perched on Rody’s shoulder, his tiny hands reaching out to stroke Rody’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Rody,” Vincent said sweetly, his black eyes shimmering with something between love and obsession. “I just want you to be happy. You deserve the best. You deserve me.”
Manon swooped down and landed on Rody’s opposite shoulder, her expression determined. “Don’t let him fool you, Rody. He doesn’t understand what you need. I do. You and I-we were meant to be together. I’ve been here for you all along.”
Rody’s jaw tightened as he stared at the flames dancing in the hearth. How had he ended up in this ridiculous situation? Most men had to deal with love triangles with human women, not tiny, magical creatures who acted like bickering children. And the worst part was, they were both so possessive of him. He hadn’t been able to go into the village for weeks without one of them causing trouble. The last time he’d tried talking to a girl at the tavern, Manon had “accidentally” knocked her drink all over herself, and Vincent had tangled up the poor girl’s hair so badly she had to leave in tears.
They were relentless. They didn’t even like each other.
“I’m not… really interested in dating anyone,” Rody said carefully, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference.
Vincent’s fingers curled into his shirt as he tilted his head, his voice soft. “That’s just because you haven’t given me a chance yet.”
Manon scoffed, pushing Vincent aside and glaring at him with narrowed eyes. “He doesn’t want you. He needs me.”
Vincent growled in frustration, his wings flickering angrily as he shoved Manon back. “Stop pretending you’re so perfect, Manon. He can see right through you!”
The two pixies were practically nose-to-nose now, and Rody half expected them to start pulling each other’s hair. He let out a frustrated sigh. “This is ridiculous.”
“Rody, please,” Manon said, giving him a look of desperate affection. “I’m the one who truly loves you. Vincent’s just using you.”
Vincent snapped his head toward her, eyes blazing. “That’s not true! I love him more than anything!”
“And yet you act like a spoiled child every time he looks at someone else!” Manon spat back, her wings buzzing in frustration.
“Oh, and you’re not?” Vincent’s lips curled into a sneer. “At least I don’t sabotage his life!”
Rody couldn’t take it anymore. He stood abruptly, causing both pixies to stumble mid-air. “I can’t even try dating other people because you two won’t leave me alone!” he snapped, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I didn’t ask for this! I never wanted-“
“You don’t need *anyone else*,” Manon interrupted, fluttering close to his face, her eyes wide with desperation. “I’m the only one who truly cares about you, Rody. You don’t need Vincent. He’ll just hurt you in the end.”
Vincent immediately swooped in, pushing Manon aside, his black eyes narrowing as he hovered inches from Rody’s face. “Don’t listen to her,” Vincent said smoothly, his voice low and intimate. “She doesn’t understand you like I do. *I’m* the one who can give you what you need, Rody. Not her.”
Manon’s wings buzzed furiously as she shoved Vincent out of the way, her voice trembling with frustration. “He doesn’t *want* you, Vincent! I’ve been with him longer-I’ve always been here for him! You’re just trying to steal him away, like you always do.”
Vincent growled, his pale cheeks flushing red as he shot Manon a venomous glare. “That’s because he belongs with *me*, not you! You’re the one who’s been getting in the way from the start!”
Manon’s lips curled into a sneer as she pointed an accusing finger at Vincent. “You’re delusional if you think Rody would ever choose you over me!”
Rody’s patience snapped. “*I’m* not choosing *either* of you!” he shouted, causing both pixies to freeze mid-air. “This isn’t some kind of competition! I just want my life back-without the two of you constantly fighting over me!”
Manon’s face fell, her lip trembling slightly. She darted closer to Rody, her voice softening as she pleaded, “Rody, you don’t need anyone else. *I’m* the one who loves you the most. You know that, don’t you?”
Vincent quickly interjected, his voice a silky whisper as he hovered beside Rody’s ear. “No, *I’m* the one who loves you, Rody. You don’t need her. She’s just trying to come between us.”
They both hovered there, staring at him, their tiny faces filled with determination. Each one wanted to be the *only* one in his life, and Rody knew that, no matter what he said, they wouldn’t stop fighting for him.
“I can’t…” Rody rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of their possessiveness suffocating him. “I can’t live like this.”
Vincent edged closer, his voice soothing but possessive. “You don’t have to live like this, Rody. Just choose me. Send her away, and I’ll make sure you’re never lonely again.”
Manon’s eyes welled with frustration as she flew in front of Vincent, blocking his view of Rody. “No, *send him away*. You know I’m the only one who’s been by your side since the beginning, Rody. You don’t need him. I’ll take care of you, just like I always have.”
Rody stared at them both, the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. They weren’t going to leave him alone-no matter what he did.
Rody slumped back into his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose, feeling the tension throb behind his eyes. He looked at Manon, who was glaring at Vincent, and then at Vincent, whose dark gaze was solely focused on him, ignoring Manon’s presence entirely.
“How…” he began, sighing deeply. “How did I even get stuck with the two of you?”
Manon, seizing her moment, swooped closer, brushing her tiny hands against his cheek in a gesture meant to be tender. “Because you need me,” she murmured, her voice a honeyed sweetness that had once been soothing but now grated on his nerves. “You were lonely, and I came to keep you company, to give you the love you deserve.”
Rody squinted at her. “I don’t even remember asking for company.”
Manon’s smile widened, a little too pleased with herself. “Oh, but I knew what you needed, Rody. Sometimes, people don’t realize what they’re missing until it’s standing right in front of them.”
Before Rody could respond, Vincent darted between them, hovering over Rody’s shoulder like a brooding shadow. “She’s twisting everything,” Vincent hissed, his cold breath tickling Rody’s ear. “You didn’t ask for her. You needed someone who understands you. Someone who doesn’t fawn over you like a petulant child.”
“Child?!” Manon gasped, flaring her wings as she spun to face Vincent, her fists clenched. “At least I don’t treat him like some twisted obsession!”
Rody watched the two bicker, his head spinning from the constant back and forth. “For gods’ sake,” he muttered under his breath, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not your prize. I’m a person. Why can’t you two just leave me alone?”
Manon turned back to Rody, her voice soft again as she tried to edge closer, but Vincent was quick to block her. “Rody, please. You know that Vincent doesn’t care about you like I do. He just wants to control you.”
Vincent’s laugh was bitter, dark. “Control him? No, Manon. I respect him. I’m not trying to smother him with affection every second. You’re suffocating him.”
Rody groaned, running a hand through his messy auburn hair. “Both of you are suffocating me!” he snapped. “I don’t need this. I don’t need either of you clinging to me like this!”
His words hung in the air, and for a brief moment, there was silence.
Manon’s eyes widened, tears glistening at the corners. “But Rody… I-“
“No.” Rody’s voice was firm, his green eyes hardening as he looked between the two pixies. “I’m done with this. I just want my peace back. I don’t need you both fighting over me. I’m not some helpless guy waiting to be saved.”
Manon sniffled, fluttering in place, while Vincent’s expression remained calm, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes.
“I…” Vincent began, his voice lower now, less commanding. “I never meant to hurt you, Rody. But…” He glanced at Manon, a disdainful flicker passing across his face. “I’m not going to pretend I’ll leave you alone. I care about you too much for that.”
Manon immediately seized upon the opening, her voice wavering but determined. “Neither will I. I love you, Rody. I won’t just leave you to be with him.”
Rody groaned again, standing up abruptly. “I don’t want either of you if you’re going to keep doing this! This-this fighting, this manipulation-how am I supposed to live like this? I can’t even date anyone because you two won’t give me any space!”
Manon frowned, darting closer. “You don’t need to date anyone, Rody. You have me.”
Vincent, of course, was not to be outdone. “You don’t need anyone else but me, Rody.”
Rody shook his head in disbelief. “That’s not the point! I need to live my own life, without you two hovering over me like… like-“
“Like lovers?” Vincent supplied, his voice velvety, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
“Like stalkers,” Rody corrected, glaring at him. “I can’t do this anymore.”
Manon huffed, crossing her arms. “You’re overreacting. We’re just looking out for you.”
Rody’s jaw tightened. “No, you’re not. You’re just making everything harder. I can’t even invite someone over without you two chasing them off!”
Vincent chuckled darkly. “Because none of them deserve you. They can’t even begin to compare.”
“Right,” Rody said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because I’m such a catch.”
Manon, oblivious to his tone, nodded earnestly. “Exactly! You’re perfect, Rody. Anyone else would just drag you down.”
Rody felt his frustration boiling over again. “Perfect? I’m a mess! I can’t cook, I can barely keep this cottage from falling apart, and I’ve got two pixies fighting over me like I’m the last apple on the tree!”
Vincent floated closer, his voice a soothing whisper. “We don’t care about that, Rody. We care about you. Isn’t that enough?”
Rody stared at him, at both of them, feeling the weight of their possessiveness pressing down on him. “No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”
Both pixies fell silent, staring at him with wide eyes. For the first time since they had appeared in his life, neither of them had a quick retort.
Rody sighed, stepping towards the door. “I’m going for a walk,” he said, his voice tight. “Alone. And when I come back, I want you both to think about whether you’re here because you care about me or because you can’t stand losing.”
With that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving the two stunned pixies behind, still hovering in the empty room.
Vincent stayed suspended mid-air, wings barely fluttering as he processed the abrupt exit. His gaze lingered on the door, brow furrowing with frustration. Manon sniffed, dabbing her eyes with the edge of her hand, but Vincent barely glanced at her. His mind was elsewhere-on Rody’s words.
*”It’s not enough.”*
Vincent frowned, letting the words roll around in his head. It wasn’t that Rody didn’t care-it was that he didn’t *feel* their affection. *He doesn’t understand how much he means to me,* Vincent thought, his frustration deepening. He had been too distant, too restrained, assuming Rody would just *know* how much he was wanted.
But Rody wasn’t a pixie, and pixie customs had their own way of expressing love.
Vincent drifted toward the open window, his dark eyes scanning the deepening forest outside. Pixies didn’t rely on words alone-they showed their affection with actions, and more importantly, with *gifts.* In their world, courtship was about offering pieces of themselves, physical tokens to prove devotion and commitment.
Vincent realized then that he hadn’t given Rody enough of that. If Rody thought their love was lacking, it was because Vincent hadn’t been clear in the way that *really mattered*.
Manon fluttered beside him, still pouting, and Vincent cast her a brief glance before resolutely flying out into the evening light. He didn’t care about her right now. His mind was solely on Rody.
—
Hours later, Rody returned to his cottage, still brooding over his earlier confrontation with the two pixies. He had expected the walk to clear his head, but instead, it had just left him feeling more tangled in the mess than before.
He slowed his steps as he approached the cottage door. Something was different.
At his feet lay a small collection of items-a silver ring, a smooth polished stone, and a tiny bouquet of wildflowers. Each item seemed carefully selected, their arrangement delicate and precise. They were beautiful, in their own way.
“What the…?”
Rody crouched down, inspecting the items more closely. These weren’t just random things tossed together-each felt like it had been chosen specifically for him.
“They’re for you.”
Rody jumped slightly at the soft voice, turning to see Vincent perched on the edge of the window, his wings still. The pixie’s dark eyes gleamed with something intense, something more than his usual arrogance.
“For… me?” Rody asked, his voice uncertain.
Vincent nodded, floating down from the windowsill and hovering just before Rody’s face. “You said earlier that we weren’t showing you enough commitment, that our feelings weren’t clear.” His voice was calm, but there was a raw edge to it, like he was trying not to sound too eager. “You’re right. I’ve been too… reserved.”
Rody blinked, still holding the wildflowers in his hand, uncertain. “But this?”
“They’re courting gifts,” Vincent said simply, his gaze steady. “It’s how pixies show their love, how we express devotion. I thought you’d understand my feelings without them, but clearly, I was wrong.” His wings fluttered softly as he hovered closer. “These are for you, Rody. My offering. My commitment.”
Rody stared at him, unsure how to respond. The trinkets in his hands were small, but they felt like they carried a weight far heavier than their size. The meaning behind them was unmistakable.
“Vincent, I-“
Before Rody could finish, Manon appeared from behind a curtain, her wings fluttering frantically as she landed in front of them. She spotted the gifts immediately, her eyes narrowing with an angry spark.
“*Oh,* I see what this is,” Manon said, crossing her arms as she floated up beside Vincent, glaring at the trinkets in Rody’s hands. “You think you can win him over by giving him *gifts*?”
Vincent turned his head sharply, his expression hard. “*That’s* what we do, Manon. It’s tradition. Something you should be familiar with.”
Manon scowled, her wings buzzing irritably. “I *am* familiar with it, thank you. I’m just surprised you think trinkets will make a difference now.”
“They aren’t trinkets,” Vincent shot back, his voice low and cold. “They’re meaningful. Unlike whatever half-hearted gestures you’ve been making.”
Manon gasped, offended, and turned her furious gaze on Rody. “You don’t actually *like* this, do you? He’s just trying to win you over with flashy little things!”
Rody, still holding the bouquet in one hand and the polished stone in the other, was stunned into silence. The sincerity behind Vincent’s actions, the way he had carefully chosen the gifts-it struck him more than he’d expected. It wasn’t flashy. It was heartfelt.
“Manon,” Rody started, his voice soft but firm. “It’s not just about the gifts. It’s… It’s about the thought behind them.”
Manon’s face twisted, her brown hair flying around her face as she huffed. “*Thoughts?* What about *me* then? Don’t I count?”
Rody sighed. “I’m not saying you don’t, but you both need to stop-“
Vincent cut him off, his voice smooth but insistent. “Rody, I’m not playing games. I’m not just trying to win. This is about *you.* I want you to know that.”
Rody looked at him, feeling the weight of Vincent’s words. He realized then that this wasn’t some casual attempt to gain his attention. Vincent had chosen his gifts carefully, with the seriousness of someone who wanted more than just flirtation.
It was both touching and unnerving.
Vincent hovered closer, his expression softening. “Just… think about it, Rody. That’s all I ask.”
Rody hesitated, then slowly nodded, his mind swirling with confusion and an odd sense of warmth.
Manon, meanwhile, crossed her arms and pouted, clearly displeased but unwilling to lose her place at Rody’s side.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But don’t think I’m giving up.”
Vincent shot her a cold glance but said nothing. His focus was entirely on Rody, and as Rody closed the door behind him, clutching the gifts in his hand, he couldn’t shake the feeling that things had just gotten even more complicated.
And despite himself, he wasn’t entirely upset about it.
The next few days at Rody’s cottage were anything but peaceful. Ever since Vincent had started leaving his courting gifts, things had escalated in ways Rody could never have anticipated.
Each morning, Vincent would hover near the windowsill, waiting for Rody to wake up. Without fail, a new set of trinkets-smooth stones, intricately braided grass rings, shimmering petals-would be neatly arranged just outside his door. And each time, Vincent would greet him with a soft, knowing smile.
“Good morning, Rody,” Vincent would say, his wings fluttering faintly as he watched Rody’s reaction to the latest offering. His eyes, always dark and intent, never left Rody’s face, gauging every subtle response.
Rody couldn’t help but feel a tug of something-was it warmth? Affection?-whenever he saw the gifts. They were beautiful in their simplicity, each item carefully chosen and arranged, as if Vincent knew exactly what Rody needed, even if Rody himself didn’t.
But alongside the gifts came tension. Manon, not one to be outdone, had begun leaving her own tokens of affection. Unlike Vincent’s carefully curated offerings, Manon’s gifts were often brash, colorful, and far more obvious in their intent. Brightly woven ribbons, tiny necklaces made from wild berries, even small cakes she would bake with ingredients she claimed she “borrowed” from Rody’s own kitchen.
“Look at these!” Manon exclaimed one morning, proudly displaying a small necklace made of wildflowers. She looped it over Rody’s neck with an excited buzz of her wings, her brown hair swaying in the morning light. “I made it just for you! It’s much prettier than those *dull* rocks Vincent keeps bringing.”
Rody sighed, trying to keep up with the constant tug-of-war. “Manon, it’s not a contest…”
But Manon wasn’t listening. She had already turned her attention to Vincent, who, as usual, was watching with narrowed eyes from the windowsill.
“Jealous, Vincent?” she taunted, fluttering in front of Rody and twirling her hair between her fingers. “I mean, look at him! He’s practically glowing with my necklace on.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I’m sure Rody appreciates the effort,” he said dryly, then added with a smug undertone, “though we both know he prefers something a bit more subtle.”
Rody groaned inwardly as he watched the two pixies bicker. “You two don’t have to keep fighting over me,” he muttered, but his words fell on deaf ears.
Manon huffed, folding her arms. “Subtle? Please. *Rody* deserves to be showered in love, not given scraps of shiny things you find lying around.”
“*Showered in love,*” Vincent repeated with a smirk, his voice soft but pointed. “Like those cakes you’ve been burning in his kitchen?”
Manon’s face flushed red, her wings buzzing louder in indignation. “I did not burn them! They were just a little… overbaked.”
Rody pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. “You both need to stop.”
But as frustrating as it was, Rody couldn’t help but notice the way both pixies looked at him with genuine affection beneath all their bickering. Vincent, despite his aloof exterior, had shown Rody a gentler side-one that was patient, thoughtful, and surprisingly devoted. And Manon, for all her loud declarations and competitive nature, was undeniably sweet in her own way, always seeking to make Rody smile.
Still, their possessiveness was suffocating. He couldn’t so much as leave the cottage without one-or both-of them following him, ensuring he was never alone for too long. It was exhausting.
One evening, as Rody sat by the hearth trying to enjoy the quiet, Vincent appeared again, this time holding a tiny silver chain. It glimmered faintly in the firelight, and Vincent’s wings fluttered nervously as he approached.
“This is for you,” Vincent said softly, placing the chain in Rody’s hand. “I found it in the forest, and… I thought you might like it.”
Rody looked up, surprised by the vulnerability in Vincent’s voice. It wasn’t like his usual confident, almost cocky tone. This was different. Softer. More genuine.
“Thanks,” Rody muttered, turning the chain over in his hand. “It’s… really nice.”
Vincent’s lips twitched into a small, pleased smile, but before he could say more, Manon zipped in from the other room, her face flushed with excitement.
“Don’t tell me he’s still giving you trinkets,” she scoffed, flitting to Rody’s other side. “*I* made you dinner! Proper food, not like those dry cakes from before.”
“Manon, I-“
“I mean, really, Rody,” Manon interrupted, casting a sideways glance at Vincent. “You’re too good for these little gestures. You deserve *real* devotion.”
Vincent’s expression darkened, his wings buzzing in irritation. “Manon, we both know-“
“That you’re trying too hard?” she quipped with a smug smile.
Rody had enough.
“*Enough!*” he snapped, standing abruptly and startling both pixies into silence. They hovered in mid-air, wide-eyed, as Rody ran a hand through his hair, his voice weary but firm. “I don’t need gifts or tokens or whatever you two are trying to do. I just need you both to *stop* fighting over me!”
Vincent and Manon exchanged awkward glances, each of them suddenly unsure of what to say.
“I don’t know why you two are so obsessed with me,” Rody continued, his voice softening, “but this can’t keep going on like this. I’m not some prize for you to win.”
For the first time, both pixies were silent, their wings fluttering uncertainly as they hovered in place.
Rody sighed, sitting back down in front of the fire. “I just… I need space. I need time to think.”
Vincent glanced at the silver chain still in Rody’s hand, then looked away, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped, Rody.”
Manon, her usual bravado gone, nodded slowly. “Yeah… I guess we’ve been a little much.”
Rody chuckled tiredly. “A little?”
They both gave him sheepish looks, and for a moment, the tension in the room eased.
“Okay,” Rody said, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s just… take it easy, alright? No more competition. No more trying to outdo each other.”
Vincent and Manon nodded in unison, though the competitive spark in their eyes hadn’t fully faded.
Rody wasn’t sure how long this truce would last, but for now, he was grateful for the peace. As he sat in the quiet of the cottage, the two pixies hovering close by but for once not bickering, he felt a strange sense of warmth settle in his chest.
Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.
At least, not *all* the time.
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