Burning Desire

17

Winston was close with Alastor, so the demon lord answered his summoning as soon as Winston started it, opening a portal in their borrowed room.

Alastor caught the broken look on Tristan's face and ordered Winston to bring him into the portal. "Where would you like to go?" he asked Winston as soon as they were safely in Hell with the portal closed.

"Somewhere quiet," Winston said, looking sorrowfully at Tristan, who was now staring into space with a blank look, not reacting to the speaking around him. "Do you know a place?"

"I have a vacation home near Anchorage," Alastor said, making Winston raise an eyebrow. "Alaska is a beautiful place and I couldn't resist having my own little place there for when I decide to get away from the lustful demons of Hell for a few days. Even a lord needs a break."

"So... we can use it?" Winston asked hopefully.

Alastor nodded, putting his hand on Tristan's shoulder. "Will you be okay, darling?" he asked, and Tristan just nodded, his eyes still blank.

"I'll take care of him, Master Alastor," Winston said, pulling Tristan into his side.

"I assumed you would. You can stay as long as you need, and summon me whenever you're ready to come home. Nothing but the best for my demon's soulmates."

Tristan looked up at him, his entire expression showing exhaustion. "Thanks, Alastor," he said, not bothering to make a sarcastic comment.

Alastor just patted his back before opening the portal. "There's food in the freezer but anything fresh you'll have to stock up on. Enjoy the time away," he said as the pair walked through.

Tristan went right to the room at the back of the hall, not bothering to look around and investigate the cabin like home of Alastor's. He was so tired and upset that all he wanted was to curl up and cry.

The bed was big and covered in a fluffy, brown blanket, but Tristan didn't want to lay down on it, no matter how comfortable the blanket looked. He didn't want to lay out on the exposed bed; he had a churning in his gut that made him feel sensitive and vulnerable, so he wanted to find a hiding spot where he could be safe and surrounded.

He ended up pulling the blanket off the bed and climbed into the bathtub, wrapping himself with the fuzzy, comforting material.

Winston found him soon enough and frowned at his poor soulmate. "I'm going to go get us some food. Do you want to come?"

Tristan shook his head. "I just want to stay here and be sad for a bit, please," he said, his usual sarcasm nonexistent and replaced by a sad, scratchy voice that Winston didn't want to get accustomed to.

"Okay," Winston said, kneeling by the tub. "You were so strong, Tristan. You are so strong and you've overcome so much, ao bewl."

"What does that mean?" Tristan asked, not recognizing the strange, demonic words.

Winston smiled. "It's demonic language. Many don't speak it anymore, but I find it intriguing and can't express myself in English because then you'd know what I was saying."

"But I do want to know."

Kissing his forehead, Winston touched his cheek before he pulled away. "Not yet. You'd run if I told you."

Tristan sighed. "Okay," he said, getting comfortable in the tub once again. "I'll be here whenever you get back."

Winston almost wished Tristan would push him to know what he said. He didn't like the hopeless and sad version of his soulmate.

"I'll be quick," Winston promised.

Tristan nodded and waved before laying back in the tub. He had a lot of competing emotions: sadness, anger, grief, but above all, he felt tired. He was tired of acting like an adult. Hell, he was only in his early twenties and had to act like an adult for so long.