Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

Been a while

Three days.

Three damn days since Mammon had left, and he still hasn't come back.

After the first day, I became worried sick about the raven-haired, but now that it was the third, I didn't even know how to feel.

The apartment felt empty without his presence and so did I. The aura Mammon's body held always managed to pacify me, even if it is as overbearing at times. Without him, I had felt on edge constantly, as though he was my emotion resistor. I pressed my cheek against the naturally cold counter, the hard surface putting pressure onto my cheekbone. The granite island had practically became my second home with how long I spent sitting there, waiting for the raven-haired to just burst through the door. Countless beer bottles, all of which were empty, encircled me, reminding me of my failed attempt on drinking away the pain. Perhaps, it was the only time I ever wanted to become drunk.

I entangled my fingers in my brown hair, nails digging into my scalp. The feelings I had for him had grown substantially, when I thought they would go away. I thought it would be better for us to be apart for a while, but the outcome was not what I had expected: I wanted him even more now. But even if he were to come back, how would we go back to normal? Was I really a fool for thinking that simply talking it out would work?

The buzzing of my phone broke me out of my turmoil, making me pick it up.

Claude
LUKA
¹⁴·³¹

Claude
Luka? Is something
wrong
¹¹·⁴⁷

Claude
Luka are you good?
you haven't been online
in awhile
¹⁶·⁵³

Claude
Luka :(
¹⁷·²⁰

Lukie
Sorry claude, I was kinda
busy and do you know where
Dante is?
¹⁷·²⁵

Claude
FINALLY
¹⁷·²⁶

Claude
Wait what why? Did I miss
something?
¹⁷·²⁶

I placed my phone back down on the counter, only for it to start ringing. There was no point on answering, he probably didn't know either. The phone continued screeching at me to answer as I crushed my clad forearms with my hair-dispersed forehead. The only half-pleasant thing about the past three days, was that I felt more clarity towards my feelings. I was plagued by what the sweet-toned man and my mother had said. I knew she would have no trouble accepting the fact that I liked a demon—she would be thrilled that her son turned into one of the people she always read about. I knew that many of my friends would accept it also. But the problem was my father. Everytime I looked in the mirror, I didn't see myself; I saw my father, he would repeat over and over the things I didn't want to hear.

"You think anyone would accept a demon-loving freak like yourself?"

"You're exactly like your mother."

"You're a fool if you think Ezekiel and Uriel would accept you. They worked tirelessly to set this up, converted hundreds of demons, yet you can't convert one without falling in love with them? You're pathetic."

"Those demons killed Mikkel's parents, you took him in, and you knew that he hated demons deep down. Why would you ever love the thing he hates the most?"

"Don't you remember Elise? How you cried a river at her funeral? Don't you think she would be so disappointed, to see you fall head over heels for her killer?"

I knew the vision of him was wholly a figment of my imagination, but boy did they hurt like hell. His words, slowly but surely, broke pieces off of my heart like an archaeologist breaking into a rock with a chisel and hammer. He would never accept me, and neither could I. But that didn't matter to me, as long as the Lord sanctioned my actions, I would be alright. My purpose was to serve him, no one other than him. As much as it would afflict me, if he was the only one who could understand my choice, I would be able to pass happily.