chapter twenty-five

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moxxie hummed, he hadn't meant to rat you out, but you were hanging out with the worst person imaginable in all of imp kind. Excluding his father.

Guilt sank in as he watched you both come in, covered in sweat the clothes you wore soaked in it.

Looking down he chewed the soft eggs, listening to striker's sigh of relief and exhaustion. A smug smirk made it's way onto moxxie's face, everyone around him included you were oblivious to it except for striker who caught it.

Striker grumbled under his breath, eyes narrowed to slits as he rolled his sleeves up.

His fingers ached as he gripped the fork in his hand, staring at moxxie.

The day went by fast, with you and striker doing nothing but relaxing your sore muscles.

It was good to relax and sit back, watching the day pass. Nothing to do, nothing to worry about.

Moxxie laid himself across your lap, reading a book.

Striker was leaned against your shoulder, too exhausted to care or do anything to the smaller imp.

His hat was off, fanning the both of you. The sun was slowly going down and the air was finally becoming cooler.

Crimson came in, eyeing the three of you, his eyes screamed he was scheming something. The two of your groaned as crimson smirked marching up to the both of you, scaring moxxie off.

"You think you get to relax? Oh, no, get on the ground I want two hundred push ups from you boy-"

He snarked out watching as striker flopped himself down on the floor. He turned his gaze to you.

"And I want you to practice flying. You won't be doing outside, not in the dark. You'll be doing it in here!"

He spoke cheerfully, gesturing to the entirity of the room, that had paintings and artifacts and heirlooms passed down to him.

You groaned but did as you were told. Only one more day of this. You told yourself.

Word count 333

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