Lovers & Devils [BxB]

Lovers' ring

      Day sixteen.
The apartment was empty. The off white walls looked duller, the grey ceramic pots of imposter aloe vera drooped, darkness cooked in the arched kitchen using cloves of dust. The saffron? Dried birch seeds disbanded on the square-tiled balcony floor with a handful of petrified leaves. I put my weight on one leg, sucking my front teeth as I had a staring competition with the squarish wine hedges. The tiered clothes rack was my companion, but it didn't talk, and I had so much on my mind. Mammon hadn't been home in two days. I left some missed calls, but I didn't want to seem desperate. I just wanted to know if he was safe. It's my duty. The black railings dug in the bones of my forearms through the seaweed green crew neck, avoiding the space where a bird splatted on. I didn't know how to approach the conversation we needed to have. I told myself I would do what felt right in the moment—forgetting about everything for a second, my loved ones, that strange man. I chafed my forehead. A thought persisted in prodding my mind. All that had happened, a rejection from me, what if he held that against me? What if he lets me die because of it?
A ding followed by a vibration in my jean pocket gloriously sprayed away that thought. I slipped it out carefully lest it fall between the wide gaps between thin black bars that curved out and back in like a heart line.

Brie: you coming to Dante's last fight?

I elevated my eyebrows in confusion.

Lukas: Last fight? You mean...he's a boxer?

Brie: oh...you didn't know?

Brie: well, you guys are friends...so it shouldn't matter that I told you...he's an underground fighter.

I stood up straight.

Lukas: Underground fighting? That sounds...really dangerous.

And illegal.

Lukas: But, he's retiring?

Brie: yeah...no one expected it...it was so sudden, and he's so young too...

Of course, I was elated—it was a step in the right direction without me having to cultivate—but I couldn't help but wonder why.

Brie: he's the best one at our club...I'd love to see you here, come over. xoxo

I switched off my phone with a shutter, gaping at the tall trimmed hedges but I could only see indigo bruises, notches and popped out shoulders. I was gearing the cogs in my brain. It was my job to look out for these sort of things, encroaching or not. Anything underground was risky and lasting, I knew that much. Though, I'd be lying if I wasn't floundering at the prospect of talking to him again. Would it be awkward? Dumb question, of course it would. I scratched my nail against the black silicone case, the sound making me cringe, intensifying the bloody images in my head. I felt chilly with anxiety, the saliva on my tongue icing up. Dammit, Mammon.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The Mandela Effect, that was what it was called—bold, cursive then selfsame bold. It was mounted, LEDs comatose, on a black grout-less brick wall a bit wider than the double doors. The long modern windows had been unsurprisingly tinted black.
Concealed by a curbed bed of elderly trees leaguing a barricade in front of the drive-in, it truly lived up to its name. In the night, it was purple with sin. People reeled after the music, the alcohol, with a slanted roof to toss them down to the inferno like onions on a chopping board. In the noon, it was modest—you would walk past, and when the lights came on at midnight, you would swear it was never there.
I sidled across the disabled blue parking space and stepped up on the curb, rolling my ankles after the gruelling walk. If only I could use my wings. It seemed a bit awkward to knock, but I did it anyway. God, I looked so suspicious right now. I flicked eyes over my shoulder at the further road just when the sleek door creaked open. Words ready to skydive from my lips, but Brie ushered me inside. The slither of daylight quashed when she shut the door with both ringed hands. I was screwed now.
Figuratively.
I poked my head around. There was no one inside, and I couldn't rebuff the disappointment I felt.

"Where is everyone?" I didn't like nightclubs, but there was something eldritch having the crystalline dance floor so without people—without Mammon. "Are you trying to kill me?"