((TW: a non-binary crisis))
Nate lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his hands clasped together, resting on his tummy. If he didn't think about it too much he could almost forget about his curse and the confusion that it was causing him.
It was stupid, really. Nate knew that his conflict was part of the curse. Another form of psychological and emotional torture that his sister and her partner had inflicted upon him, for their own amusement. Nate hated them both, but not as much as he hated Leoric.
While Tessa and Fang were merely toying with him, Leoric was trying his best to emotionally manipulate Nate. It had taken him a while to realise it, but Nate had finally seen through the man's facade. Leoric had pretended to be on his side, luring Nate into a false sense of security and worse, making Nate mildly fond of him before he had revealed his true colours. Nate had felt a real fool when he had finally realised Leorics intentions and he was determined to never fall for his insincere actions or words ever again.
Nate sighed heavily and rolled over, squeezing his eyes tightly shut so he wouldn't catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. That was a further insult.
Tessa had cursed Nate to have incubus abilities. Thankfully, she had excluded the hunger for sex but Nate still hated it.
He hated how he was unable to control his glamour's, sometimes appearing as himself and on other occasions appearing as a woman, or the object of one's desires. He hated how his mind responded to the curse, despite knowing that it was Tessa's intention to torture him his mind had still fallen for the trap. He supposed that it wasn't his fault, after all a warlocks magic was designed to trick and tease. So really, it wasn't his fault when he became confused.
It wasn't his fault that he had days where he felt more feminine than masculine, or days where he felt he was somewhere in between. It wasn't his fault that his mind became muddled, sometimes wishing that as a man he could wear a dress, or as a woman that he could wear a suit. It wasn't his fault that he sometimes felt pleased when a person appeared unsure as to what pronouns they should use to address him. And it certainly wasn't his fault that he sometimes became upset when he realised he would be confined to a male presentation once his curse had been broken. It was all down to the curses design, not Nate.
Puffing out a sigh, Nate opened his eyes and grazed his gaze along the figure in the mirror. Thankfully, his glamour had faded and he looked like his regular self. He quashed down an irritating wave of disappointment and shut his eyes again, praying that sleep would come.
If his curse wasn't broken soon, Nate couldn't be certain that he wouldn't lose his damn mind.
