The Demon and the Elf (Book 1)

Chapter Fifteen pt 5

The demon planted a purple hued barrier at the overhead entrance of their hut. It wasn't a strong barrier and it wasn't transparent like the elf's, but it was better than nothing. Uncaring about the narrow beds or that he had his own, Drokn joined Eial in his.

He faced to the side and wrapped an arm over the elf's chest, his hand gently stroking the temple and loose hairs on the other side and patiently observing every detail on the elf's perfect face. The curve on the bridge of his nose, the arch of his lips, his washed rosiness on his cheeks. Where his jaw started, how his chip tipped. All of it, locking into memory.

At some point in the next several, silent hours, Drokn had stripped off his body forming top and managed to do as many sit ups as he could do. This was preceded by his initial plan of pushups, which he learned to his frustration that he could hardly manage to do many at all. His lungs ached with each breath as his movement was followed up with a cautious jog around the cabin a dozen laps, simultaneously making sure to keep an eye out for incoming traffic.

Hands to his knees, his face drooped and like a heavy rainstorm, sweat gathered below, the light color soil turning dark brown with each extended drop. The fogginess of his deep, strained breaths moistened his lips. At last, his muscles were thankful when he decided to pause for just a moment to check on the elf.

Dropping below, his eyes widened slightly at the elf who was now awake and sitting at the edge of the bed. His eyes widened even further and his brows joined in to crease when the elf turned to look at the demon, his gaze glazed and puddled.

"What have I done?" Eial's quivering voice cracked in delivery.

"What happ—" was as far as the startled demon had gotten before Eial swiftly kneeled to the ground and covered himself in an earth tomb using magic.

Steadily and cautiously, Drokn walked over and sat on the floor next to the tomb and placed a hand over the gritty dirt. What was someone to do in this situation? "Come out, Eial," he tried to persuade, but to no avail. Warm breath from a slow exhale moved a few specks of dirt on the mound. A hesitant quiver in his eyes and lips. "Then, speak to me. What's wrong?"

Crumbling silence filled the space until Eial let out a silent sob. "I hurt them. I felt it. Their wings, they were crushed, I—" A heavier sob let loose within the darkness of his solitude. "—I am a horrible elf. I am so sorry."

Muddled, the demon was, aware of how more violent he had been without a sliver of remorse. Mildly, however, there was amusement. For someone who would kill mercilessly for a meat filled meal, yet not harm a fly otherwise. "Eial, they were trying to kill you. Why should you care if you gave them a scar or two?"

"Are they going to scar??" Panic added to the tremble.

Fuck, thought Drokn, realizing he had said the wrong thing. "No, no! You saw my wing. It wasn't scarred. They can be healed fully. You know? Maybe even stronger." Drokn wasn't sure if that was true, but he honestly didn't care.

After some distant crows sung its craws in the orange and pink sky, Eial finally asked weakly, "Really?"

"Really," affirmed the demon, "You probably helped them more than harmed them."

And another moment of speechless breathing passed by before Eial collapsed the tomb, large forms of dirt and rock rumbling to the sides. The elf's eyes looked pitifully sob sodden and rimmed red.

Walking with his knees over to the demon's side, Eial asked to see his wings. When the demon revealed them despite the cramped space, Eial knee-walked further behind and touched the ribs of his once-damaged wing. At first, impressed at the beautiful, scarless figure. And then, his heart hurt again. "It must have hurt so badly... I truly am—"

"You truly are unnecessarily concerned," the demon interrupted somewhat impatiently. "If those guards knew how you were worried for them, they would be seething and skin themselves to prove they could handle more." A huff of air met his teeth at release. "Besides, you were... you were trying to protect me, correct? So in the end, you did it for me. Or are you saying I wasn't worth bruising a few wings?"

Eial opened his mouth, wanting to say it was more than just a few wings, but stopped himself, feeling that the demon may have been right. Because thankfully, the demon was in front of him seemingly unharmed. "I am happy you are safe." A knee crossing over, Eial sat straddled on the demon's lap and hugged him.

This may have been a problem for the demon if not the hug lasted a mere second. Eial drew back as soon as they were close, unseating himself away. He looked at his dampened cotton shirt and hands and then back up at the demon. "Is this... sweat?"

Drokn hadn't noticed how sweaty he had actually gotten until Eial's mention. But looking at Eial's somewhat discomfort, a sprinkle of mischievousness bloomed in the demon. The next thing he knew, he had Eial in an armlock, trapped in the heat and sweat of his bare chest. Eial tried to push away at him giddily, this time really push, but the elf's palms slipped at each try.

Giving up, Eial submitted to the hold, him against the demon's drying chest. Although Eial liked the hold, the stickiness and stench was really too—

Hands behind the demon, he waved, and a large sum of water rushed down on the two. Drokn's arms held less tight from the surprise, enough for Eial to push away slightly and observe the demon's face, giggling with lit eyes in victorious satisfaction.

Oh how the demon wanted to snatch those dripping wet lips with his own.

Content from looking at him long enough, Eial turned his face to the side and laid his cheek on the demon's smooth chest, hearing the thumps of his heartbeat, a comforting rhythm to his ears. "Why have you chosen not to wear your top?" he asked. "Not that I am complaining."

"Pfft!" Drokn sputtered. Always delighted by his honesty. "Do you like what you see?" he purred, his voice smooth like velvet.

"Rather, I like how it feels," said Eial straightforwardly, soaking in the vibrations from the demon's chest each time the demon spoke.

Another chuckle from the demon.

Cuddling closer, Drokn held Eial tighter, letting his chin rest on top of Eial damp hair. The wetness on their skins met the air and every exposed pore not touching the other started to chill. "I was just... training," he finally responded to the former question, somewhat of a darkness laminating his gaze.

"You're working so hard," smiled Eial. Feeling just a tad too cold, he waved his arm as if shooing a fly, but with more grace. The air around them picked up and grew warm, drying the wetness from their skin and soaked clothes with blissful comfort. "Although, I have never seen you like this."

"This is the least I should be doing." Drokn's mind shuddered an image of him standing under the vast array of darkness.

An obscure smog was sensed in the elf, coming from the demon through the bond. Eial couldn't quite distinguish the emotion or the tone his voice displayed, but instinctively, he took it in wary observance.