Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

Smell of forgiveness

The sun had started peeking through my blinds, as if it was trying to see what I was doing. Honestly, I didn't know what I was doing either. I could have easily gotten Ezekiel to send me the written documents on Mammon but instead, I decided to blankly look through the pockets of all my trousers. It was a rather stupid decision, but I couldn't care less. It was only morning, meaning time was on my side—albeit, I could hear clattering, and a sweet smell coming from the kitchen. Mammon was probably up making breakfast for himself.

        The sound of crumpling paper caught my attention, and I concurrently stuck my hand into the jean pocket. My god. The sheet was completely completely crunched up. I didn't think it was possible to feel bad for a piece of paper, but here I was, sympathising. I sat back down on my bed as I outstretched the page prudently—more explicitly, the paper ball.

        "Now...let's see," I mumbled as my eyes went over the scaled-down writing. Naturally, it took barely anytime at all to find the section on the gang. And unlike all the other titles, it was highlighted, causing me to feel even more brainless. How was I able to miss that? Contrary to putting any information as to why the raven-haired may have joined, his crimes were recorded.

         My stomach churned slightly as I read them to myself. Assault. Forgery. Theft. Vandalism. I stopped.

         What the-

         Confusion swarmed my mind as my eyes ghosted along the saw-edged bottom of the information sheet. Panicked, I quickly leapt up, and turned the pockets of my jeans inside out. But nothing. Nothing fell out of them besides detached fabric, and gold coins that were probably more ancient than me.

         Where the hell was the rest of that damn sheet? I took a few steps backwards, and stared at the pile of folded trousers. They all unfolded instantly before standing in front of me, each pocket obediently becoming inside out, and still nothing came out. What the hell? I picked back up the information sheet, vetting the ragged edge before noticing something. An aura that lingered around the cut. At first I thought it was Mammon who did this; why else would it be torn conveniently at the section of crime? But the aura was of no demon, nor human—it wasn't mine either.

        The door hinge was depressed abruptly and I turned my head towards it, the wrinkle-ridden sheet still in my hands.

        "Sorry. I shoulda' knocked," Mammon said quietly, avoiding eye contact as if it would give him the pestilence.

         "It's fine. Is...something wrong?"

         "I made breakfast...if you want some."

         My lips parted due to surprise, so I smiled with my eyes. I didn't think Mammon would want to speak to me for a while, let alone make breakfast for the two of us. But either way, I was happy that he didn't let his emotions dominate him. "Sure but...before that."

        The raven-haired opened the door a bit more, now staring at me, letting me note the dark semi-circles forming under his eyes.

        "Have you...seen the rest of this sheet?" I questioned, holding the page aloft.

        "No? I 'on't go into your room. What's that thing even about?"

        "Er- nevermind.."

        Mammon shrugged, shifting his leg backwards before walking away, "I'll be in the kitchen."

        My arm dropped back down to my side magnetically. As expected, Mammon didn't touch the sheet. I wasn't exactly sure why, but his answer left me a bit crestfallen—it was no big deal I knew, but still. I shook my head, put off by my own dismay. I could just get them off Ezekiel later. I stuffed the page under the chambray blue duvet before sauntering out of my room.