Mianite Stories

A Comma in The Middle of A Phrase

(Hamilton reference since I was listening to Hamilton while I wrote this)

It started out innocent enough, as innocent as getting hammered could be, that is. It was a damp Friday night in Urulu, and the famous bar, Vilette, was buzzing with it's customers talks and the dull sounds coming from the neon lights. Dianite's ears twitched as he heard the scrunch of other people's shoes on the gravel outside and the clinks of glasses, irritated with the mindless chatter of others. He really just wanted to focus on the dappled man sitting beside him at the counter, instead all he could hear was the useless noise around him. Mot smiled at his deity's annoyed expression as he ordered for the pair of them, Dianite not really caring for what they drank as long as it was strong enough to at least give him a buzz. Vilette didn't exactly have drinks designed for gods.

"If you're so dissatisfied with the place's drink options, why didn't we go to one the bars you go to?" Dianite's glazed expression of annoyance went away when Mot spoke up as their drinks arrived, finally able to focus on his champion's presence. He scoffed as Mot slid something resembling rum into his hand and picked up the standard beer in his own.

"Because those bars would be littered with demons and other unpleasant creatures. I can't risk having you in danger." The red-skinned man responded simply, giving his 'rum' a small whif to check if it was even drinkable.

"But you are a demon." Mot laughed as he saw Dianite's disgusted expression after smelling the cheap booze. You think they'd be able to make a good rum since this place is so popular.

"I'm different from the rest." Dia hummed as he decided to just drink the booze and get it over with, though he immediately regretted it. Mot laughed at both Dianite's response and the face he made as he tried to hide the fact that he hated his drink.
----
A few hours later after both businessmen had had a few drinks and a couple rounds of shots each, Mot was transitioning from funny drunk into a tired/angry drunk while Dianite stared off at the wall in a grumpy drunk state.

"Maybe it's time to go." Dianite was sure something bad was going to happen if they didn't get out of Vilette soon, considering the fact that he'd had almost three times the amount of what Mot had had.

"No." Mot's voice sounded gruff, and the demon was surprised with his tone.

"Motty, c'mon, I really think we should go."

"Why?" Mot sounded a little pissed.

"It's late."

"So?"

Dianite groaned lowly and laid his head down on the counter, huffing.

"I wanted to ask you something." A long pause occurred before Dia responded.

"Am I going to like this question?"

"Dunno..."

"Go ahead boyo."

A seven minute pause.

"A noticed a mistake in one of your letters the other day." Mot almost whispered.

"Even I make mistakes from time to time Motty. May I ask why you're bringing this one up?"

"It was only a comma, but it changed the meaning of a phrase. I was wondering if you intended it."

Dianite looked up at Mot from his view on the counter, noticing how the mottled man was looking sideways with a blank glare.  This time it was four minute pause.

"What was this,"he paused,"mistake?"

Mot sighed."'My beloved Mot,' just like how you start every other letter concerning more personal things, but with a comma after beloved, it read 'My beloved, Mot,'."

A stretch of twelve minutes.

"It wasn't a mistake." Mot choked on his beer and spit most of it out across the counter when Dianite finally spoke up, which earned him a discreet glare from the bar tender. Even if they were both wasted, no one was going to risk offending the god seated nearby.

"It was new."

"So?" He mimicked back from earlier. He himself earning a glare, but from Mot instead.

"Why did you do it? There wouldn't be any reason to." He replied cooly after his initial anger, slurring heavily now.

"Do I have to have a damn reason?" Dianite almost growled, his more feral side angered for no real reason.

"Yes."

"What if I said you looked particularly stunning that day." Sarcasm dripped thickly from Dianite's storm-like voice.

Mot scoffed."Be serious."

"I am." It was a light response.

"Do you always account my looks when you write me letters?" Mot shot back angrily.

Dianite knew they shouldn't be having this conversation, he knew he was about to give everything away.

"Maybe."

"So ever since we've met you've just been checking me out every day."

"You can appreciate beauty without lust." He was sort of knocked a little back into his senses so he tried to distract Mot with the muttered response.

"Bullshit."

Dianite didn't know how to respond to that. He settled with scratching at the wooden counter and avoiding his champions glare as he went on.

"Is that why you decided to help me? To save me? Because you needed a pretty face around the office to look at all day? Do you get off on the fact that my face is different just like your skin?" At this point Mot was yelling and Dianite was glad the bar was empty, all the other patrons having left a couple hours ago with the bar closing, a good tip is what made the tender let them stay after hours.

"Mot...no..t-that's not why." Dianite looked at Mot pleadingly, not wanting to have this conversation while they were both hammered.

"Then why the fuck am I here in the first place!"

Dianite leaned to the side as his beloved champion tried to beam him in the side of the head with a beer bottle as he screamed the previous sentence, dodging it. A little discouraged by the fact that Mot would even try such a thing.

He duly noted the bottle smashing against the wall behind him as Mot stood up too quickly and fell forward into Dianite, they both almost fell but Dianite found his feet quickly and held his frazzled champion against his chest. Mot's heavy breaths fanned across the deity's left shoulder as he stood still, his anger melting away into a sort of buzzing feeling flowing throughout his body as he went limp against Dianite's warm body.

"Why then?" Mot's voice sounded small.

"When I saw you in that alleyway I knew I could never let you be hurt again. I couldn't let someone so beautiful be thrown to the dirt again."

Mot closed his eyes and almost sobbed as he recalled the day Dianite had found him. Used, broken, bloody.

"I love you." The god spoke his words as if they would be his last.

"Do you?"

"Always have."

"Why?"

Dianite chuckled."Why not?"

Just then, Mot's body decided to stop trying to stay awake and he quickly fell into a hazy sleep against the warm chest supporting him. The deity holding him made fast work of picking him once he realized his breath and heart had slowed down, a little grateful he didn't have to explain how he felt just yet.

(Fin?)