Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

Lucky Seven

Luckily Frances had been patient enough to wait until they'd gotten far from the horrible stench of the swamp before finally receiving an explanation for the mess they'd caused.

Now, standing in the middle of the forest, Priscilla let out a heavy sigh, her gaze locking on the ground as she attempted not to vomit from anxiety.

"I'm so sorry, Frances," Priscilla said softly, feeling as if she might faint from nerves. "I um..." She swallowed hard. "I've liked you for a really long time."

"Wait," Frances breathed, her eyes widening. "You don't hate me!?"

"Wha..." Priscilla gasped. "Why would you think that?"

"For the entire school year you've done nothing but avoid me," Frances pointed out, seeming surprisingly calm for someone who'd just found herself in a swamp kissing a toad.

"Oh," Priscilla stammered, her cheeks going pink. "That's true, I was avoiding you. But it wasn't because I hated you. It was...err...God this is going to be hard to say." Priscilla proceeded to tightly squeeze her eyes shut, as if doing so would somehow protect her. "It was actually because I liked you. Like...like liked you....uh...romantically I mean."

Frances was staring at her intently, her expression unreadable. "You...like me?"

Priscilla's face went bright red and she buried her face in her hands. "Yeah. But I tried so hard not to ruin everything that I ended up just ruining it anyways." Her voice was tight, on the verge of tears as she began to babble. "I always would get nervous when I talked to you and then I thought you and Richard were together so I got jealous and tried to use some fairy dust so you'd like me back. And I promise I wasn't going to let you stay like that, I just wanted to confess without being anxious. But then I dragged poor Wheeler into it and he dropped the dust and you fell in love with his toad and then we had to travel to a swamp because his cat is a massive asshole and...and...and just I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"I fell in love with a toad?" Frances repeated with a laugh. "That's actually pretty funny." She grinned. "Almost as funny as Richard and I being a couple."

Priscilla hung her head. "You don't have to pretend you aren't angry. What I did was unforgivable."

Frances shrugged. "A little stupid, maybe...but definitely not unforgivable. Honestly, I'm kind of flattered. I don't think anyone has ever put this much effort into wooing me."

Priscilla's face went even redder which seemed like it should be virtually impossible at this point.

"But hey," Frances continued, "you did accidentally make me fall in love with a toad so I suppose I can't let you off the hook too easily."

"I'll make it up to you any way I can," Priscilla stammered. "I promise."

"Good," Frances murmured before leaning closer, reaching out to gently wipe Priscilla's tears away. "Then I suppose as recompense you can treat me to dinner tomorrow night."

Priscilla nearly toppled over in surprise, her eyes going so wide they just about popped out of her head. "R-Really?"

"Really," Frances said with a soft smile.

***

It had taken Wheeler at least an hour in the baths but he'd finally managed to scrub the last of the swamp's smell from his skin. He slipped into his bedroom now, finding Mulock sitting in his human form at the edge of their bed.

Wheeler offered him a small smile, a damp towel still flung over his shoulders. "Priscilla seems pretty excited about her dinner tomorrow," he said, sitting down on the bed beside him.

"Everything worked out surprisingly well," Mulock replied. "Far better than I would've expected." The demon shrugged. "But then again, they're both young so it probably won't last long."

"Hey," Wheeler said, giving him a little nudge. "No need to be so negative."

"I'm not being negative. I'm being realistic. Love is an illusion--"

"Uh...why don't we just change the subject," Wheeler cut in, offering him an awkward smile. "That serpent thing was really cool, even if its taste in music was a little...um....avant-garde."

"It's to be expected. Earth serpents are known for two things, bad music and senseless prophecies."

"Yeah, I suppose what it told me didn't make much sense," Wheeler replied with a laugh. "I have no idea who or what the golden one is or why some lady's words would seal my fate." He thought for a moment. "Though...I guess it did get one thing right. It called me lucky seven." Wheeler glanced down at his feet which dangled loosely off the edge of the bed. "That was my mother's nickname for me."

"Lucky seven?" Mulock repeated, arching a brow. "That's a rather specific word combo. What made her pick it?"

"Well, I don't exactly know where the lucky part came from," Wheeler answered, his fingers absently drifting to the back of his neck. "If anything, it seems all I bring is a good helping of disaster wherever I go."

Mulock cast him a thin smile. "I'd have to agree with that. Though...I suppose constant disaster tends to keep things interesting for a demon like me."

"I do know where the seven comes from though," Wheeler continued softly. He dipped his head down, brushing back his hair to expose a birthmark on the nape of his neck. It was thin, a dark reddish hue forming a seven that looked as if it had been penned by a master scribe himself.

Mulock's eyes widened ever so slightly. "How unusual," he breathed. "I've never seen anything like it." The demon began to reach out a hand but stopped himself. "May I?"

"Go ahead," Wheeler said with a nod.

As if he was touching something incredibly delicate, Wheeler felt Mulock's fingers lightly brush over his skin, gently tracing the outline of the mark.

Wheeler did his best to ignore the small shiver the sensation caused, along with the all too familiar heat rising up from his skin wherever the demon touched.

"Prophecies are usually bullshit," Mulock murmured, his voice low. "And honestly, what that serpent said was so vague I doubt you should give it a second thought." At last he removed his fingers from Wheeler's neck. Wheeler swallowed hard, trying his best to ignore how desperately he wanted the demon to touch him again. With Wheeler's head still bent, Mulock gave his curls a light ruffle. "Just remember, Wheeler," Mulock continued with a smirk, "the future's what you make it. There's no such thing as predetermined fate. That's a life lesson from me to you, so don't ever forget it."

"If it's from you, never." Wheeler offered him a small smile, hating how fast his heart had begun to pound.

That night the dreams returned more vividly than ever.

The brush of fingers down his chest, down his neck, through his hair, all beneath those glowing purple eyes that felt like they could burn him.

And throughout it his own voice echoed deep from within his head calling, "Careful Wheeler Trevil. It's dangerous to crave things you can't have..."