Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

Sober up

I love you.

Those three words that came out of his mouth, were jouncing around in my head, showing no signs of coming to an end either. I didn't understand why I was stressing about it so much. They were three simple words that could be easily dismissed as jumbled up words released by the drunken mind. Yet, my brain just wouldn't let it go. Like the leaves on an evergreen tree, it clung to the possibility of it being true, and the question of whether I loved him or not. But I didn't! I couldn't. I was confused. My emotions were just a wreck. I was still swamped by all of the newfound feelings that I had mislead myself into this mess.

I grunted as I turned over onto my side, the sound of rustling emanating from my pocket. Damn it. I forgot about the note. I got up sluggishly and pressed my back against the plush headboard before taking out the crumpled piece of paper.

I reached for my phone that had been idling around with my notebook—for God knew how long—under my pillow. It was a brand new model that Ezekiel had given to me as a departing gift, though I hadn't used it until this moment. I glanced at the numbers written messily on the page before typing them into the dial pad. Should I call him? No, he could have been busy. I pressed the message button instead.

Lukie
Claude?
¹²·³⁵

Claude
LUKA how are you
feeling?
¹²·³⁵

Lukie
I'm alright, how
about you?
¹²·³⁶

Claude
im kinda hungover rn
my heads pounding
like crazy
¹²·³⁷

Lukie
How much did
you drink?
¹²·³⁸

Claude
oh alot like we stayed
til 2 it was crazy you
should have stayed
¹²·³⁸

Lukie
Yeah I wish but that'd
be irresponsible of me
¹²·³⁸

Claude
man your really different
from Dante and speakin
of him, is he good? heard
he got into some idk fight?
¹²·³⁹

Lukie
Oh...yeah he did. Some guy
tried to harrass me last night
so he took care of it
¹²·⁴⁰

Claude
for real? damn bro you ok?
¹²·⁴¹

Lukie
Yeah I'm alright. Anyway I'm
gonna go check on Dante
¹²·⁴¹

Claude
gotcha bro. he drank alot
last night. prob has a major hang
over
¹²·⁴¹

I tore the warm duvet away from my body before sliding off the bed, my legs instantly trembling because of the cold. God, did he never turn on the radiators? Whatever, it didn't matter, at least I wouldn't have to take a cold shower. I sauntered out of my room and into the sombre corridor, stopping just ahead of his door. I was hoping that he didn't bring up what happened last night, it would just make things awkward—well for me at least. I knocked on the hoary door, my body already itching to retreat back to my warm bed.

"Come in," Mammon yelled, his voice breaking slightly at the end. My hand hovered over the door hinge as I stared at my distorted reflection on the steel hinge. Should I go in? What if he did bring up what happened last night? What was I even doing—I was only going in to check up on him, nothing else. I pushed the cold hinge down timidly. Mammon was laying in his bed, the thin duvet on top of him outlining his body. His room was quite a mess; a stray white shirt draped over the side of his bed while all the other clothes were strewn across his floor. A corner of the shaggy rug was lifted, exposing the chipped wooden tile underneath.