The thick grey clouds loomed in the sky above, heavy with rain. Soon the heavens would split open and unleash the tears of angels onto the flawed earth below them all. Francis could feel it in his bones, it was one of the few times he took the time to watch it though.

Francis sat on his desk, his back to the heavy oak doors that lead into his office. His dress shirt was unbuttoned a few notches to remind himself that he wasn't working, he scratched the stubble on his chin as he watched the sky through the large windows that made up his wall.

A wine glass sat neatly in his hand, the bottle a few feet away on the floor, loosely corked and leaning against the desk. He was on his sixth glass, and he could only feel the edge of a pleasant buzz in his head, the thick grape taste lingered on his tongue as he took another sip.

Francis liked to enjoy the simple pleasures in life, the sun, the taste of food and wine, the ability to hold a woman close to him and maker her croon. The simple pleasures satisfied him, that didn't seem to be the case with his little girl. Matthieu.

Such a curious name for the girl, that it was, but it was the mother's wish to name her Matthieu. And who was Francis to deny her such a small wish? She left with Matthieu's twin brother a day later and never returned.

Francis sighed and ran a hand through his wavy blonde hair, Matthieu got his good looks in the least. Her frame was small and fragile, she had barely grown into her dresses at all, and lacked a bust.

But Francis loved her all the same.

Matthieu was such a beautiful little girl, she smiled with such a sweet little face, her hair was short and blonde, with the soft cascading waves of her father, although she had a smaller nose like her mother her eyes separated her from both of them.

Both parents had blue eyes, but as it turned out Matthieu was born with something special. It was a second stage of albinism, or something of the sort, Francis could never remember it. Matthieu was born with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes, her brother was more of a sky blue.

But Francis adored Matthieu above all else, he showered her in love and affection. She was the perfect little child, even if her mother left, Francis was more than enough to provide for her. Somewhere along the line a mutation was triggered in her body, and those gorgeous ocean blues turned into the most dazzling lilac colored eyes Francis was ever blessed to see.

And oh did Francis love his little Matthieu, he loved her down to her golden heart and soft eyes. She was the most precious little thing, she would only cry when Francis put her down. So he could take her everywhere with him, she wouldn't cry because of loud noises, or if she was hungry, she was a peaceful and quiet little baby.

And she went everywhere with Francis, he had to travel all over the world for his work, and Matthieu tagged along for years. Strapped to his chest in a baby carrier where she would watch him with her mesmerizing lilac colored eyes. He would take her to meetings where she was softly doze off or sit on his lap, drawing with a pen and a piece of paper for hours.

Matthieu was a beautiful baby, easy to take care of, easy to spoil her absolutely rotten. Every time Francis would give her a little cookie she would make a little noise of absolute delight and hug him as hard as she could.

Francis let himself smile at that.

Just imagining his little girl, so small and precious again. It made his heart flutter, oh how dearly he missed his little girl. The more she grew, the greater her beauty became. She was petite and small, but her features were perfect and smooth. Her mannerisms were elegant and agile, Francis couldn't have asked for a more beautiful little lady.

Her mind it appeared, did not age as gracefully as she had.

For so long Francis took her everywhere with him, she learned about so much. In fact she should've been a social butterfly, after meeting so many people so young. But she stayed that quiet and shy little girl she always was. Not that Franic minded, Matthieu could be whatever she wanted to be.

But eventually Francis had to start leaving her at home while he worked, he wasn't skilled enough to provide her with all she needed for school. And even so he couldn't do both at the same time, even if he could. So he had to send her to school.

And Matthieu did fine, she was quiet and worked hard. She rarely caused any trouble, and that was only once when she decked a boy in the face after they lifted up her dress. Francis was so proud of his little girl, he took her out for ice cream after that day.

Throughout her entire primary school experience she remained as close as she could be. Matthieu would ask Francis to cook for her instead of the servants, or ask Francis to tell her a story from his youth before going to sleep. Matthieu loved her papa. And Francis loved his little girl.

Matthieu was still his quiet little girl, and Francis loved her with all of his heart. Even when she would break her round red glasses, or accidentally spill food on her dresses. She could've killed someone and he would've helped her hide the body.

But, Matthieu started to drift away when she went to middle school. Those five years in that school changed her almost completely, she never got her growth spurt, and stayed a small petite, she grew in maturity at an almost alarming rate.

Francis could hear whispers around the youth when he would pick her up, while he would be waiting for her on her favorite vehicle, the motorcycle, he could practically see them parting like the Red Sea for her to pass with her friends.

Francis loved being part of gossip, being a modern person himself, he knew how to work all of recent technology and was better than most of the kids. Sometimes if he was lucky, a group would be right next to him.

He heard stories about how Matthieu's friends were protective of her. Rumors had escalated to the point where it was said that she was not only sleeping with all of them for their services, but that she had convinced them to kill a kid who had tried to hit on her.

Francis checked it out and learned that the kid simply moved the next day, the hit on Mathieu was simply a last ditch attempt. But he was, ahem, roughed up it seemed before he moved.

Eventually Francis decided to bring up the topic with Matthieu at dinner. She looked up at him with her naturally wide lilac eyes, they looked the smallest bit bigger behind her round red rimmed glasses. Matthieu didn't keep secrets from him, she just didn't tell him things until he asked. It was quite clever on her part, Francis realized as he sat there.

Matthieu giggled her soft chime like giggle, before leading him into a story about all of her friends.

First there was Ivan. He was a sweet thing according to Matthieu despite being two years older and six foot two. Matthieu and him both had an interest in this sport called hockey, sometimes when Francis wasn't home he would take her to the skating rink, which his uncle owned, after hours. And Ivan would teach Matthieu about how to play hockey, and even do some mock games where he pretended to let her win. She knew he was being gentle on her, and she poked fun at him occasionally because of it.

The next one was Mathis, or as Matthieu called him 'Thi'. Thi was the strong silent type it seemed, he was a year older than Matthieu and only six foot. Their bond was a bit different that Matthieu's and Ivan's, theirs started in a cooking class when they were partnered up. Both were so awkward that they had to write notes to each other instead of talking just to stop stuttering around each other. After the first week they started to get better with interacting, and came to enjoy being cooking partners. Their friendship was shared over their shared awkwardness.

Then there was Feliks, a spunky little thing a year younger than Matthieu. And apparently the gayest thing alive, according to a madly blushing Matthieu who had trouble saying 'gay' without becoming a mess. Feliks didn't give Matthieu the chance to decide if they were going to be friends or not. According to Matthieu, Feliks stuck to her side like green on grass. Their friendship was simply one of time and place, that have managed to stick together through the years.

Then there was Gilbert, the albino. An exchange student from Berlin, who happened to waltz into the school and trip the second he entered the classroom, being caught by Matthieu before his face hit the floor. Gilbert was loud, annoying, funny, rude, and just a hot mess in general. The way Matthieu describe him made Francis think that she was unwillingly friends with him, but one glance at her revealed something else.

They passion she used in her words when she talked about the time Gilbert made Mathias eat a bee, then rush him to the hospital because they didn't know he was allergic to them. It made him rethink their entire relationship.

But then Matthieu started to talk about their lovers and dear ones. About Ivan's girlfriend Katusha, and how she was the sweetest thing alive, always baking cookies for them. Mathias' little brother, Toni, who took up so much of Mathias' life that he hardly had time to hang out anymore. About Feliks abusive boyfriend Toris. And about Gilbert's girlfriend Amelia, how she was possessive and jealous of everything.

Francis made her back up to Feliks and his abusive boyfriend. Matthieu had given full on details about every other member except for him, practically skimming over them in a few words before moving on.

Francis waited until she was done before making her back up.

Francis didn't know why he remembered that dinner so clearly in his mind, it should've just blurred together in one crazy mess. But instead he remembered every detail about that one meal, they were eating fresh bread from the market, and cuisses de grenouille, frog legs, that Matthieu had prepared earlier to show Francis.

But after some gentle prodding from Francis, Matthieu finally started to talk about Feliks and his boyfriend.

Matthieu started from the very beginning, just like she always did with everything. Feliks was a smart kid, creative and talented. And an older classmen, In Mathias' class, started to take an interest in the younger boy. Toris was his name, and at first he was sweet and shy, nervously leaving little bundles of hand picked wildflowers next to Feliks bag when he walked away from a few minutes. Then evolving to anonymous notes, with soft little compliments and supportive phrases that would make Feliks laughs at the cheesiness of it.

After Feliks convinced Ivan to shove him in a locker so he could figure out who was leaving him those notes, their first date was trying to get Feliks unstuck from the locker before a teacher found them.

And for the first few months they were a beautiful couple, to be envied by all couples. They were prom king and Queen, and they put everybody else's love lives to shame.

Then Toris started to be passive aggressive, not that it was weird, Feliks was passive aggressive in arguments anyway. So they thought it was just the start of a petty argument they could've had, then Toris would make off handed comments about Feliks to the smaller male's face. Feliks would try his best to laugh it off, but Matthieu knew how deeply it hurt him for Toris to say things like that.

Toris was possessive of Feliks, and extremely jealous, if Feliks even looked at another boy Toris would think that he was sleeping with them like a little slut. Matthieu had a hard time saying that phrase to Francis, she had started to tear up at this point, taking off her glasses to try and figure wipe away the tears.

Francis offered to let her end the story for now and sleep on it. Matthieu threw a frog leg at his face, giggling and saying it made her feel better. Francis couldn't help but laugh in return, he had taught her too well it seemed.

Matthieu turned serious once again and continued, telling story after story about Toris being abusive in the worst way. Not physically, he had never forced his hand on Feliks, but verbally. You couldn't tell someone that your were being verbally abused without them calling you thin skinned and a whiny child.

Matthieu stopped after a while, said she couldn't do anything about it. Stood up and left the room abruptly. Francis knew something was up with her, she would hug him on her way out if there wasn't.

After all that Matthieu told Francis, he wondered how much he actually knew about her. It took Francis on a long trip down memory lane, reliving his time with Matthieu before realizing two things.

One. That Torris and Feliks' relationship sounded almost exactly like his and Matthieu's mother.

Two. Matthieu had grown distant from Francis so slowly, he didn't realize it until now.

And Francis continued to let it happen until the girl was sixteen, and her best friend Gilbert was killed in a brutal riot, curiously enough, about transgenders. 

Francis could find nothing on the exchange student about him being trans in anyway, or even related to any transgendered person. If he was, then Matthieu would've too. And his precious little girl would've told him, wouldn't she?

Turns out, Francis was wrong about that too.

The same night Matthieu got the news, Francis asked if she had any transgendered friends. And she snapped on him. In all of his years raising her, she had never snapped on him before. That moment shocked him so much, he could still hear the exact words floating it his head.

"Nobody is transgendered! You just never cared enough to see that I had something between my legs!"

They way Matthieu said it, heartbroken and still in the middle of sobbing over her dead friend. Made it that much worse, Matthieu was never a loud cryer, to verbally hear her choke up on her own tears was the worst feeling in the world.

But, what she said. Did that mean his daughter was a son?

No.

Francis raised a beautiful baby girl, taught her how to be elegant and proper, even let her take ballet classes since she was six. This was that 'phase' that all of the parents in the magazine told him about. It had to be, what else could it have been? Matthieu was just so caught up in her grievance, she must've been a speaking crazy.

That had happened to Francis a few times as well, he was more drunk than anything during those times, but it was the same concept. And be reacted the only way he could, locking Matthieu away for the night onbtje premise that she was grounded.

And then hiring a private tutor, to get her away from the toxic environment the school was to her. Taking her out of school, and cutting off any mean of communication with the outside world.

The one thing he wish he did was let her go to Gilberts funeral, Gilberts little brother came by after the funeral to give Matthieu what Gilbert had left her in his will. When Francis asked why a teenager had a will in the first place, the little brother replied bitterly that Gilbert did it every year and added the more he got. Because he was scared that their fathers driving would get them killed. He laughed bitterly before pushing past him to give Matthieu her things.

Francis could hear them both crying when he walked by her room to get to his.

After the little brother left, Matthieu had a pet canary to take care of now. Which he had named 'Gilbird'.

And now Francis was here.

He caught his daughter trying to flee France with Feliks after the abuse from Toris gir worse. He let the smaller boy go, but dragged Matthieu home. She kept yelling at him, telling him that she was his son, she had an identical twin after all.

Francis wouldn't listen.

It took the man to realize he was driving straight from the wine bottle at this point. He watched as heavy rain fell across the land in front of him. The simple pleasures keeping him safe and happy.

The heavy oak doors opened behind him and a maid slipped in, her hair was a mess, and her outfit was wrinkledf her bra was hidden behind her back.

"Are you done with her?" Francis asked finishing off the wine bottle and tossing it into the waste basket. He heard the maid make a soft noise as the bottle broke.

"Y-yes sir," The maid said, shaking softly under Francis' gaze as he stood up and looked to her. "She's sleeping."

"Good," Francis said, he walked over to the maid and cupped her cheek, "Good girl Jewel, i knew you were my favorite for a reason." He said patting her cheek before leaving the room. Leaving Jewel throughly shaken up.

Francis was just going to walk past Matthiues room and let her sleep. But, his fatherly instinct kicked in, and he cracked the door open to her room. His heart dropped when he saw she wasn't there. Her window was wide open, nothing hanging off the edge of the three story building.

In her place on her bed was a note, and a drawing.

A drawing of a flying canary.