Lovers & Devils [BxB]

Sober heart

Day seven.
     Thoughts, emotions jounced in my cavernous head since midnight. I plummeted in a hole of restless sleep, dressed even now in my chained jeans, the khaki shirt completely unbuttoned like my core. There was a dull ache in my feet, testament to the long, jaundiced trek back to this accursed apartment. I couldn't let it go, couldn't let it be. The scene from yesterday, it was as if I faced off with death and I could remember every bone, every cartilage—every detail. How could I ever convert a demon like him? How could I ever make such a wayward, deplorable creature change? The chain loop engraved my thigh. The duvet was warmth on my body sole. I couldn't help but wonder if Elise had went through this, and it impelled me angrier. It was an injustice in an unjust system, and we were prisoners.
      I grunted as I turned over onto my side, a rustling noise emanating from my pocket. I forgot about the phone number. I got up sluggishly, budging up my haggard pillow to the headboard and retracting the piece of paper, maltreated like me.
      I reached for my phone that dozed under the sheltering lamp like someone bathing under a sun umbrella. Ezekiel gifted it to me, yet didn't have the brain to put in his number? I could be wholly honest only with him. He would understand my plight, maybe make me laugh too. I narrowed my eyes at the numbers written messily on the paper before typing them on the dial pad.

Lukas: Claude?

      I waited a few seconds. It was a Monday—he must have been at his university.

Claude: Luka? how are you feeling?? gott, me and schatz were so worried!

Lukas: I'm feeling better. Thanks for the concern. What about you?

Claude: Ginormous hangover dude! did you go to uni? in a lecture and the teacher is straight up pancaking...

     I chuckled, fingers flying over the white keyboard.

Lukas: No, I decided to take today off. And, did you mean 'waffling'?

Claude: Ja ja. how is dante?

     I loured instantly.

Lukas: I don't know. Why?

Claude: He was really weird when schatz told you left...

     As if he could feel remorse. He knew what he was doing.

Lukas: Right. We had a family problem...That's all.

Claude: Gotta go. lecture getting serious. here's her number by the way!! 0874500962

Lukas: Danke :)

      He hearted my message. I added her contact, forging a reminder in my mind to text her later. She was a sweet girl. She knew me barely and yet, she consoled me—I wouldn't forget that. I peeled the green duvet from my body before slinking off my bed, cold air regrouped and charging at my skin. I felt bristles of the carpet between my toes. I did the buttons of my shirt, hissing when the filed circles evaded my fingers. I itched to go back to bed, however, I left my sweatpants and white runners to dry on the balcony the whole night like a buffoon and I needed to get them lest they serve as a breeding ground for clothes-gnawing moths.
      I rotated the key sharply in its home, sweeping away the harassing jackets. Come on, Luka. I felt a sliver of confidence but went rigid in the spacious corridor when I heard the television sounding from the sitting room. I shut my eyes, face scrunching up. Of course he's in there! I paced on the spot, kicking my heel against the grout lines of the tiles. After I became his guardian angel, my luck got worse and worse, especially when I needed a knight on my side. I didn't want to even see his face—how could I when all I could picture was him with that girl? It was like a fire-hot iron brand on my retina.
      Do it for Elise.
      I unclenched my fists and shook the contempt from my shoulders. I sought not to think about anything, instead fixating on each stride to the sitting room, the length and how they got shorter near the threshold.
      Mammon flopped on the pewter couch, muscular thighs spread wide for an abstract gold pillow to snuggle and on which there was a white plate. Pancakes, yellow rims piled perfectly to resemble a cake, smothered in amber maple syrup. It stunk up the entire room. The long sunset painting was as red as could be, red like his undying lust.
      I steeled myself with an inhale and trod across the weathered wood, blocking the screen.