Strings Of Iron (Spicynoodles)

Chapter One Part Two: A Night Away from a Change

The stupid Newdle boy wouldn't leave him alone.

'Why're ya out here all alone?' 'Did something happen?' 'Are you plotting or something?' 'Why'd ya' wreck my window if you didn't wanna fight?' 'do ya need somewhere to stay?' YAP. YAP. YAP. He wouldn't shut up! Redson was so close to exploding him into little pieces.

"NO! For the last time, NOTHING. IS. WRONG!" he lied, his hair bursting up into a bright light. The Newdle boy jerked away in fear of the flames, his face contorted into one of discontent. "Then why were you just- just, there! For literally no reason! Just tell me-!" "I GOT KICKED OUT AGAIN, OKAY?!" Redson cut him off, yelling in frustration. The bright fire emitting from the demon lit up both of their faces, one was tear-brimmed and disheartened; filled with burning rage and hatred. The other was surprised and concerned; filled with care and selfless intention.

A cold silence struck the two for a few seconds.

"Wh- wait, what..? What do you
mean you got kicked out? D- did someone, like, steal your...house?? Or something??" the boy asked. Redson huffed, patting down his hair slightly to die down the fire. "Of course not! I'm not so weak to let someone simply overthrow my home- hah! I feel insulted that you even think that's a possibility!" Redson scoffed. Crossing his arms and turning away from the boy, offended.

"Well, if...if that's not the case then.. Did your parents- like, did they kick you out?" the Newdle boy seemed reluctant to raise the question, he was fidgeting with the strings of his pajama pants as he saw the demon in front of him scrunch up his brows. Not in anger, not even in frustration.

In shame.

He looked like he was about to cry, he refused to look at the boy so it was hard to tell for sure but the human could see... he was right. Redson continued to stare at nothing, drowning in his remorse and self-hatred. He was so mad at himself for exploding at his mother.

The newdle boy saw his discomfort. He was hesitant, but he dropped the subject. "Oh- uh, Red Son! Your hair uh, looks way darker.." he fumbled over his words in an attempt to wash away the previous sentence. Redson's eyes darted to the boy for a mere second and then down at his hair for another.

"It's because of the cold," he said.

"What?"

"The cold. It cools it down." Redson elaborated. He turned back to face the boy, still with the familiar sneer gracing his face. The newdle boy wondered what he would look like when he genuinely smiled.

"How would you like to go sit down? ...we can...I don't know... talk? If you wanna. Well, I won't force you to talk to me but I ain't letting you stay out here. Your house is a long way from here." the Newdle boy requested, giving Redson's arm a reassuring squeeze. Redson instinctually jerked his arm away, looking at the floor again.

"Gods, how are you so- so you..." Redson murmured. "I- I am going nowhere with y-" "You can trust me. I'm not trying to pick a fight." the Newdle boy spoke softly, his hand trailing down to hold Redson's own. It almost caught Redson off guard with his demeanor.

"Wh- b- I... fine..." he grumbled, the Newdle boy grinned innocently, and dragged Redson along the snowy trail back to his apartment.

____________

Redson stared at their hands.

He couldn't help but wonder what drove the Newdle boy to act the way he did. He was so... the opposite of mean? Redson didn't quite know how to describe the way he felt with the boy. He feels like he should hate him but it just doesn't have the same burning passion he was thinking of. It didn't feel terrible enough to be hatred.