Good For Gone

Fault

"You're back." I hiccuped, looking up to see clear human eyes.

"Yeah, he let me."

"Wait," I said, "He let you? You didn't just power through it or something?"

He laughed sadly, "Sorry, I'm not that strong, at least not anymore."

I didn't really know what to say, I'd assumed that Peter, being the obnoxiously sweet creature he was, had managed to pull himself out of it. Which was silly, why would me being sad give anyone the ability to over power a demon? But I guess it sounds more likely than the thing just letting him go.

I sniffled for a few more seconds before smacking him on the shoulder.

"Hey, why did you hit me?" He almost looked hurt.

"Why did you let him out?"

I could see how tempted he was to lie to me brewing on his tongue, but he thought better of it, "I was just mad, okay, and I knew I wouldn't have the guts to do anything about it."

"But the demon would." I finished for him.

"Yeah."

"I don't even know what that says about you." I stepped back from him and began wiping my eyes, flinching at the mascara that streaked across my fingers.

He sat down on the bed again, "I was just mad you know? I get really angry sometimes, but I know I can't make myself do anything about it."

"But you're willing to let someone do your dirty work?"

"I didn't say it made me a good person." He said in a defeated tone of voice.

Guilt twisted my stomach. I probably shouldn't have gone at him like that, especially not when he was trying to comfort me. But it was beginning to get so hard to tell who he really was.

"You're not a bad person," I said, sitting down on the bed next to him.

He rubbed his hands over his face, "I don't know anymore. I've had this thing in my head too long."

"There's no such thing as a person that's all good. You're no exception to that rule," I insisted, "You just need to be honest with yourself."

He groaned and got to his feet, "I should go."

"Wait why?"

"You're obviously upset and it's all my fault, I should just leave."

"No," I stood up, "You should stay, it's cold and-" I trailed off trying to think of an excuse for him to stay. There was one, but I would have felt ridiculous saying it.

So instead I stepped forward, wiping my eyes. There wasn't anything stopping me anymore.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. My tears were salty on my lips but I kept going. He froze up at first, but after a second's hesitation his lips softened against mine and I felt his hands trail up my back.

But after a second, I broke down into giggles.

"What?" He looked almost offended. 

"I really want to kiss you, but it's a little hard... I'm sorry," I felt kind of bad for pointing it out, but I didn't think I could muscle through it. 

He just chuckled, "Oh yeah, I haven't really washed anything in months."

"I can tell," I tug on his beard lightly, "But you're still adorable!"

He rolled his eyes and my delirious laughter increased. 

"Yeah, yeah, you're so funny," He said, "Actually, I think you need to get some sleep."

"Well you're still staying here, you can sleep in a bed for the first time in forever."

"Can't say I disagree with that."

I gestured towards my bed, insisting that Miriam wouldn't be happy if a pungent homeless man slept in her bed.

He took off his jacket and climbed up. I went over to my closet and stripped off my shirt.

"What are you doing?" I heard behind me.

"Putting on pajamas." I rolled my eyes and turned back around, silently entertained by how much I was torturing him.

I pulled on a big tee shirt, and for my grand finale, I stripped off my pants, probably slower than I needed to, and pulled on a pair of shorts.

"Why shorts?" He asked as I climbed up onto my bed.

"Unless my memory deceives me, you're like a human furnace."

"Well, I mean, there is another bed."

"I wish, but I don't think my roommate would like it."

"Wow, I know you're rejecting me but you could be less obvious about it." He rolled his eyes at me and I flopped down next to him on the small bed and pulled my blanket over the two of us. I twisted myself around to face him. The smell was definitely strong, but underneath the grime was a smell I missed, so I let it go. 

I shrugged, "Sorry."

"Am I allowed to kiss you on the forehead at least?" He asked. I was relieved that he understood that I was teasing him. I knew that he couldn't help how he smelled. 

I pretended to consider this for a second, and then said, "Of course."