The forest was quiet. Birds chirped, wind rustled through trees, and the sun filtered in soft golden rays. A perfect day for a walk—and the human girl, camera in hand, was taking her time capturing shots of moss-covered trunks and fluttering butterflies.

She didn't know that in the branches above, someone was watching her. Intensely. Gracefully. Judgementally.

His name? Azairion of the Azure Tail. Peacock demi-human royalty. Eighteen inches of iridescent glory when in full plumage. He wasn't just beautiful—he was legendary. Among demi-humans, he was known as the heartbreak prince of the Eastern Glades. Girls fainted at his mating dance. Boys envied his feather-care routine. Children wept from the sheer sparkle of his tail.

So when he caught sight of her—a human girl—walking through his forest with that soft, curious gaze and that laugh that made butterflies look clumsy, he felt something divine. Ancient. Mysteriously hormonal. It was love.

So naturally, he transformed into full peacock form, fluttered down from the trees, and slammed himself in front of her with the force of a Disney prince's ego.

She stopped. He raised his tail. He spread his wings. And he began to dance. Wings fluttered. Tail shimmered in iridescent waves. He spun. He wiggled. He strutted.

And she blinked. Once. Twice. Then she snorted. Then came the wheezing. Then full-blown laughter. An ugly laugh. Laughing like there's no tomorrow. She doubled over in the middle of the path, clutching her stomach as tears of laughter spilled down her cheeks.

"You—you're dancing?! Like—oh my god—is this a mating dance?!"

Azairion stopped mid-spin, tail twitching.

"YOU DARE TO LAUGH, HUMAN?!" His voice crackled back into his half-human form—now standing tall, feathers still out, cheeks bright red.

He looked absolutely scandalized.

"I am courting you! You should be swooning—not cackling like a wild gremlin in boots!"

She wiped a tear, still laughing.

"You just breakdanced into a full spin and hissed at a squirrel!"

Azairion placed a hand over his chest, dramatically.

"That was part of the ritual. The Squirrel Stare is ancient."

She nearly fell over again.

"Human females are supposed to be overwhelmed by my tail!" he huffed, fluffing it up in frustration. "What kind of witchcraft immunity do you possess?!"

She gave him a teasing grin.

"Sorry, birdboy. You're gonna have to try harder."

He gasped.

And that... was the day Azairion decided he would marry that woman or die trying.