Illuminating the Dark Prince

The Wingman

"Valarendrik, please! I swear I can walk!" I contended while he happily carried my squirming body down the stairs.

"Nonsense. You were waddling worse than the chickens." His bright smile beamed with pride as though he thought pounding into me until my legs were as limp as linguines was his greatest life accomplishment. "I shall at least carry you the length of the stairs."

"Alright, fine." I begrudgingly agreed, then quickly leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek that tickled my lips. He hadn't shaved for a few days and was now rather scruffy, adding to his slightly messy bedhead.

A stream of morning light poured in through the double doors, illuminating the living room with a glorious golden glow. The room looked a bit less like a medieval vampire hub in the daylight, but still had a very overall gothic feel like the rest of the home. 

We had gotten up early to watch the morning star since it was only visible for about an hour before the sunrise. And to say it was resplendent would have been an understatement. The thing had dazzled like a swirling sphere of flaming diamonds, suffocating all other stars while casting eight pointed rays of brilliant light throughout the obsidian sky. As it slowly ascended, the firmament was set aflame, literally. A web of crimson flames had rushed across the atmosphere like writhing branches of lightning, painting the world in an eerie hellish glow. Then a pure white sun with golden veiny cracks pulsating across its surface had arisen, chasing both the star and the flames from the oddly heavenly view of Hell's yellowy-orange sky... Of course, as soon as the spectacle was over Valarendrik had jumped me like a sex-hungry, foaming-at-the-mouth leopard.

Once we were at the bottom of the stairs, my bare feet gently landed on the polished red floorboards as he gently slipped me from his arms. I tightened the black bathrobe I'd borrowed from Gwendolyn around my waist and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, ready to get a move on. Childish chatter was coming from the archway across from us which led into the kitchen, along with the sound of something sizzling. I immediately recognized the scent of eggs and some sort of breakfast meat being cooked. 

...Fuck, that smells delicious.

My stomach grumbled at the idea of breakfast. I went to take a step toward the kitchen, then immediately almost fell flat on my face. "You see, I should be carrying you." Valarendrik laughed while catching my arm to keep me upright.

"Nope. I can walk." I wasn't about to be carried in there like a helpless little lily in front of his friends. It was silly, but I was nervous about what they thought of me.

Valarendrik's hand continued to steady me as we migrated across the room toward the equally dark-themed kitchen. Gwendolyn's top bun bounced on her head while she stood behind an obsidian and cherry wood island, chopping vegetables with a menacing-looking knife. Azathoth was flipping something eggy in a cast iron frying pan behind her. Her emerald green eyes peered up and met my gaze, then a welcoming smile stretched across her beautiful face.

"Hey, there you guys are! I hope you're hungry, because we're making a lot of omelets in her!" She greeted with a joyous laugh.

"That sounds perfect! I'm starving!" I graciously smiled back, softly laughing as well.

Azathoth turned around upon hearing our voices, flashing Valarendrik and I a devilish grin. His hair was tied back in a long neat braid and he wore a black tank-top, showing off a black veiny tattoo on his left shoulder and bicep. "Morning, lovebirds." He suggestively smirked at Valarendrik, making my cheeks heat up.

...Oh shit, he definitely heard us fucking! 

"Good morning." Valarendrik slightly bowed in greeting, then shrill shrieks of excitement suddenly blasted our ears the moment we passed through the archway into the kitchen.