𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 | trash of the count's family

Ask for permission (2)

my mind usually goes blank after writing just one paragraph. — asshat-t

summary: cale is  beginning to become uncomfortable with your modus operandi.

They say that when you're attractive, and someone as equally attractive (or more attractive) as you grants you their attention, you'd feel prideful. You'd feel a sensation similar to having people praise something you are proud of — you'd preen.

Cale knew he was attractive; his current body was attractive. The person he locked eyes with, too, was attractive — and yet didn't feel prideful at all.

No. Instead, he felt as if he'd caught Medusa's gaze. The moment he locked eyes with the other, his body grew as stiff as an obelisk. It was like his epidermis was morphing into a statue at a rapid pace — it was like stone was spreading from his head to his toes, traveling past his muscles, and crawling into his veins.

Though, this stiffness did not birth fear or intimidation, not at all. It was more of something similar to having someone of higher status stare into your eyes and look into your soul. It was akin to being stripped off of your shields, left to lay bare. The sensation of exposure.

It was not a feeling that gave Cale pride, nor did it make him want to preen.

A few beats flew past. The two remained still, their irises unwavering. Cale felt something cold — a bead of sweat — slither down his chin. They still didn't move.

There was a soft rustle from behind the closed windows. Despite it being muffled, it resonated within the room like a bell screeching within a school's hallways, alerting its students. Something clicked inside of Cale, and he could suddenly taste the air; before he realized it, he'd already opened his mouth.

"Why are you on my bed?" He found himself asking in spite of himself.

The air paused.

The other shifts; he saw a flash of uncertainty grace the other's eyes. Cale raises an eyebrow.

"...Is it not within the terms in our contract for me to do as I wish, so long as I do not harm you or your allies?"

Ah, yes. The contract.

Cale sighed, brushing his hair back with a hand in exasperation, finally breaking eye contact.

It indeed was within the terms of their contract for the demon to do as they wished, with the stipulation that their actions do not harm Cale or those he deems allies in the future.

Cale and Asmodeus were bound by a master-servant contract, in which terms and certain rules could be applied. Back when Cale had summoned Asmodeus, upon hearing this information, Cale had been mildly flabbergasted. The original book hadn't said anything describing as such, so Cale was, inevitably, taken aback.

'..Was there a shift in the storyline? Was it caused by me?'

'Maybe my soul's presence had inflicted something similar to the butterfly effect onto this world.'

'Did Asmodeus deliberately not tell Choi Han about the terms?'

'There's a possibility that the original Author excluded this piece of information because they knew Choi Han wasn't the type of person to demand.'

Cale had thought then, eventually settling with the final theory.

Although Cale preferred not knowing some things or remembering them, he had to admit that at times, not knowing much of anything can be quite taxing. Cale did not know much about this contract of theirs, and although Asmodeus had explained as to what the contract is, it still wasn't enough. Therefore, Cale had to observe instead.

The redhead removed his hand from his hair.

"Asmodeus." Cale started, sitting upright and facing the aforementioned demon directly, his eyes once again clashing with theirs.

Cale and Asmodeus were bound by a master-servant contract, in which terms and certain rules could be applied. Cale was the master — Asmodeus, the servant. If the freedom of applying rules was still in effect, and Asmodeus is indeed bound to serve as a servant, then...

"I never once allowed you to lay on my bed, neither did you ever ask for my explicit permission."

...Asmodeus should follow his orders.

They, once again, settled into silence. Luckily, the pause between them was ephemeral.

Asmodeus's eyes shifted to the side as they, too, sat up — Cale couldn't help but notice how their hair bounced merrily at the action — and crossed their legs. They inched forward, closer to Cale, almost startling him.

"As I said earlier, I'm allowed to do as I wish because of our contract, Master. This... this, me, lying beside you, does not harm you at all. Unless you.. have a demonic allergy?" Asmodeus said, voice slow and monotonous, words ending with an unexpected seriousness that made Cale almost snort.

How... Childish. Cale coughed into his hand, letting his amusement disintegrate with the breaths that left his mouth. He'd expected a tad more class from the demon, now that they were in a contractual relationship, but what did he expect? This was exactly Asmodeus' personality in the books.

"No, this does not harm me at all, but I would like some personal space."

Cale said, slouching onto the cushions, an elbow on the pillows, and a chin on his hand. Quietly, he observed his supposed 'servant'.

The aforementioned bites their lip, humming to themselves thoughtfully.

There was a high possibility of the demon providing him with mere iotas of personal space. Cale had to be very specific about his desires if he wanted Asmodeus to follow his orders because they were the type of person to find loopholes in everything. However, he couldn't be too specific yet. He had to test his power over Asmodeus first, observe to see the effects of being their 'master' and what he has to do to keep this living plot armor to himself.

Asmodeus opens their mouth.

"I understand, master."

The demon did not sound like they'd understood at all.

Cale buttons his shirt as he stared at himself in the mirror, head whirring in action.

Earlier, he'd woken up at the break of dawn, which answers the question of why no servant had come to wake him. And he was very glad that no one did because god only knows the embarrassment he would've suffered by being discovered laying in bed with someone else.

If Ron had come to wake him, though...

Click. His cufflinks emitted a small sound as he secured them.

It wasn't that he thought that Ron would spread malicious rumors about him sleeping with someone, but he couldn't exactly trust a former assassin, could he?

Wait, no. Spreading malicious rumors wasn't in Ron's character, and neither was spreading secrets. This might mean that Cale could trust him in the future—

Suddenly, arms wrapped around him from behind; lips brushed against his nape.

Cale didn't yelp. He swears he didn't.

the way i write is mostly influenced by the korean novels i read. they tend to end their chapters in the most unexpected and abrupt way and move quite rapidly in terms of progression. which i can mildly understand, because of, well, manhwas. — asshat-t