Damien
and every demon wants his pound of flesh
but i like to keep some things to myself
but i like to keep some things to myself
Her joke pulled at him, loosening the line of his mouth into the ghost of a smile. “You’ll stay warm,” he answered, voice quiet but sure, as if his word alone could guarantee it.
But when she asked about where he’d sleep, that smile faded. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but the pause gave him away—he hadn’t brought more than one roll, hadn’t thought to. Traveling light was second nature, and he hadn’t expected to be caught overnight in a cave with someone else, let alone her.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, though the pause lingered like an echo, betraying the truth of how thin the comfort really was. His hand tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders, a small gesture that said more than the words. “I've slept on colder stones than these, and your injuries are more serious than mine,” he said, the words calm but not quite as unshakable as he’d meant them to be. He settled into place near the fire, not far from her, knees angled like he hadn’t quite committed to distance.
The firelight etched his features in a way that made him look more guarded, almost carved out of the shadows, but his eyes kept drifting back to her. He caught the faint slump in her shoulders, the way her attempt at a smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It tugged at him, an ache he didn’t want to name, and he shifted his gaze back to the flames before it could root deeper.
Aria, curled in her lap, blinked drowsily, then made a sudden, clumsy climb toward his side of the blanket as though determined to bridge the gap herself. She batted at Theea’s wrist, then tumbled half over his leg, a squeaky rumble vibrating from her throat. Damien huffed, shaking his head, but his hand lifted automatically to steady the cub’s small body before she pitched herself into the ashes.
“Trouble,” he muttered, though his scarred thumb stroked down the cub’s back in an absent, careful motion. He guided her back toward Theea with a little push, but Aria only circled and tried again, stubborn as a weed.
Damien stared at the cub, then at Theea, as though this was somehow her fault. His mouth twitched like he might fight a smile. As he looked at Theea though, his jaw flexed and his eyes steadied on hers, "How is the pain? Will you be able to sleep despite it?"
But when she asked about where he’d sleep, that smile faded. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but the pause gave him away—he hadn’t brought more than one roll, hadn’t thought to. Traveling light was second nature, and he hadn’t expected to be caught overnight in a cave with someone else, let alone her.
“I’ll be fine,” he said, though the pause lingered like an echo, betraying the truth of how thin the comfort really was. His hand tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders, a small gesture that said more than the words. “I've slept on colder stones than these, and your injuries are more serious than mine,” he said, the words calm but not quite as unshakable as he’d meant them to be. He settled into place near the fire, not far from her, knees angled like he hadn’t quite committed to distance.
The firelight etched his features in a way that made him look more guarded, almost carved out of the shadows, but his eyes kept drifting back to her. He caught the faint slump in her shoulders, the way her attempt at a smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. It tugged at him, an ache he didn’t want to name, and he shifted his gaze back to the flames before it could root deeper.
Aria, curled in her lap, blinked drowsily, then made a sudden, clumsy climb toward his side of the blanket as though determined to bridge the gap herself. She batted at Theea’s wrist, then tumbled half over his leg, a squeaky rumble vibrating from her throat. Damien huffed, shaking his head, but his hand lifted automatically to steady the cub’s small body before she pitched herself into the ashes.
“Trouble,” he muttered, though his scarred thumb stroked down the cub’s back in an absent, careful motion. He guided her back toward Theea with a little push, but Aria only circled and tried again, stubborn as a weed.
Damien stared at the cub, then at Theea, as though this was somehow her fault. His mouth twitched like he might fight a smile. As he looked at Theea though, his jaw flexed and his eyes steadied on hers, "How is the pain? Will you be able to sleep despite it?"
