𒇫𒄆ɛʟɛƈȶʀɨƈ ֆɦօƈӄ𒅒𒈔

𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑ Alone 𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

(Third person POV ⚠ S4 AND R4P3 MENTIONS⚠)

The night grew darker, the time on the clock getting faster. Hour by hour passed, Vox still asleep on the couch. It was dark in the room, only the TV eliminating the room. The door slowly opened, making a creaking noise. Macin waltzed into the room, holding a cup holder with two cups of coffee.

"Vox, I'm back-" He announced, before hearing the soft snore. The Prince sighed softly, placing the coffees onto the table by the door. He took off his suit jacket, a deep gash on his collar bone. He winced in pain from the material rubbing against the wound, but didn't mind it. Macin walked slowly over towards the couch, looking over it and seeing Vox sleeping peacefully.

'Is he wearing my clothes?' He thought, admiring the way his clothes made Vox look small. He chuckled softly, rolling his eyes. "Sleep well, idiot." Before Macin could even turn, Vox made a small noise. His eyes slowly opening looking up at Macin. "Macin?.." The TV demon yawned, rubbing his eyes. 

"Just relax, go back to sleep." Macin reassured, sighing softly. "Cuddles.." Vox whined softly, holding his arms up. Macin looked baffled, did he hear him right? "No, no cuddles-" "Cuddlesssss..." The TV demon whined louder, sounding like a crying toddler. Macin sighed, rolling his eyes. He couldn't believe he was gonna do this.

He sat down next to Vox, wrapping an arm around his waist. "We can cuddle for a few moments, and then you-" Macin winced slightly, his body tensing. He looked down and saw Vox clinging to him like a lifeline. His wound plused against his skin, making it feel tight. It was healing by itself, since of Macin's healing ability. 

"Yay.." Vox snuggled onto Macin, his screen pressing against his chest. The Prince heaved a sigh, looking at the show playing. "Just go back to sleep." His claws gently trailed across Vox's back, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Vox shivered slightly, a shaky breath leaving his lips. (If he has any). The TV demon's eyes wandered over Macin's form, admiring it.

The way Macin could be so relaxed and tense at the same time, it never made sense. Then, Vox's eyes found the wound. A deep gash in The Prince's collar bone. Some bite marks on his shoulder, you could see it slightly. Vox slowly lifted his hand, his position shifting to sitting onto Macin's lap. "What are you-" Vox slowly pulled his shirt off of his shoulder, a soft gasp escaping.

Bite marks surrounded the area on his shoulder, and that gash in his collar bone. Vox's eyes filled with rage raising an eyebrow slightly. "What is this?.." He asked quietly, his tone firm yet still laced with slumber. "N-nothing just.." Macin avoided Vox's gaze, looking down at the floor. He never wanted somebody to notice those marks. Especially Vox.

Vox then grabbed Macin's chin, forcing him to look at him. "What. Is. That." He asked again, the slumber leaving his tone. It was all firmness and anger. Rushing through his veins. Macin couldn't take it. He then vanished. A soft purple hue of smoke just in the air. Vox alone. Again. He sighed, laying down onto his back.

The soft couch cushions against his back made a soft cushion. 'What were those marks?' He questioned himself. He needed to know. Why did he get so mad over some marks? Macin was the literal Prince of Hell! He could take care of himself. But where did that come from? Did Vox make him mad?  

~𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑~ (Macin POV)

Who does Vox think he is? Trying to check out my wounds? I can handle myself. He's just tired, he needed rest. That's it. That's what he needed. Rest. He's been exhausted because of Val. I hated him. He would always make Vox tired and have no rest because of his pleasures. He would always come home some days with bite marks on his neck, but I never questioned it.

Why does he have to question me? He should respect my decisions. He was probably more concerned about the deep gash in my collar bone, but that doesn't matter. I looked in my mirror eyeing the gash. It was deep, sure, but it would heal. My healing ability was working off its ass to heal this damn wound.

Vox still was out on the couch, probably just laying there. His coffee was probably getting cold. He doesn't even know what happens at these Elder meetings. Maybe I should tell him what happened..The memories flash in my mind, making me remember the first Elder meeting ever. I was only ten in demon years, royal years a hundred.

They didn't need to do that to me. Rape and sexually assault a royal Prince. They only did it because of my mother. She ordered them to do that to me. The first time it ever happened was with my mother, at the ripe age of seven. Her hands trailing over my body, I can still feel her nails scratching across my flesh.

It was a strange sensation. But, I craved it. I felt like that was the only way to get love. To feel love. That's how my mother showed me her love. By sliding her hands down into my pants. Feeling my parts like they were hers. Treasuring them. It was a fucked up feeling, and I would never be able to get rid of that feeling. 

It was a comforting feeling. To feel those hands on me. I guess it felt like they actually loved me and showed they loved me. But, I guess it wasn't love. Love doesn't exist. Well, it doesn't exist in my eyes. Tonight was rough. They used a knife on me. I guess one of the Elder's likes knife play. I don't. That's what the gash is from.

I could still feel the members in my mouth, and other holes. I feel drained. I want to die at some point but I can't. That's not how life works for me. Life wants me to feel this pain and suffering for some fucking reason. I don't think I'll be able to handle it anymore. Having to deal with my mother, Matthew, and others, makes me sick to my stomach.

As my eyes looked at the gash, I could see the door swing open slightly in the corner of the mirror. Vox stood at the doorway, eyeing my form. His hand was holding his cup of coffee, his other hand on the door handle. "Hey.." He said groggily, rubbing his eyes. He sounds tired, forcing himself to be awake. 

A soft sigh leaves my lips, turning around. "Sleep here tonight, the bed should be more comfortable than that damn couch." I said, rubbing my hands over my face. Vox raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "What? No, I didn't come in here for that-" "Just..Go back to sleep." I couldn't talk with him right now. 

I didn't have the energy to talk or even stand. I want to just lay down and forget about this night. He sighed softly, knowing he wouldn't win. "I'll lay down, but I won't go to bed-" "Fine, fine whatever." I couldn't argue with him. He walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge. He felt like a thing I can put my trust in. I don't though.

"Macin I-" "Goodnight, Vox." I walked out of the room before he could even say another word. He probably hates when I do that. But he needs to understand I need time alone. Alone. The word 'alone' makes me feel safe. Like I belong. Not in a trap that I will ever escape. It makes me feel like I don't need to comfortably live with other people.

Vox doesn't understand that. And I don't think he ever will. But if he can't, that's his own damn fault. I made my decision and this is what I made. To be used as a puppet, being used for pleasurable desires. Just to save Charlie's damn hotel. It wouldn't have worked, but I knew she wouldn't stop at anything to just give up on that hotel.

I will stay alone, forever and ever. Just to keep Charlie and Vox safe.