~Darks POV~
My head snapped up, an angry retort boiling on my tongue, but I stopped as soon as I saw who it was. I jumped off the couch and began to back away from the angry figure standing in front of me on the other side of the couch. "Get outta mah house." A thick Irish accent rang in deep decibels. I glared at the Irishman. "Excuse me but this is my house. Get out. Now." I hissed in my deeper voice. Suddenly a warm hand was on my forearm. I looked down to see Antis' eyes warning me to be quiet. I shook off his hand, ignoring him. The Irishman had crossed his arm and made an 'oh really?' face. "Is tha so?" He slurred. "Yeah. It is." I growled. The man walked around the couch, or rather stumbled, and grabbed Darks shirt collar, pulling him close to the mans face. He reeked of alcohol. "Listen here boy," the Irishman breathed in Darks face, his voice husky and breathless. "I own this place. I own that little demon over there. And I own you."
"Now that's were you're wrong, no one owns Anti except me. And no one owns me for damn sure. This is my house. This is my Anti. And this is my life. So get out, before I get really mad." Dark growled crossly, the warning bitter on his tongue. The man just laughed then pulled out a pocket knife, flipping it open and pointing it at Darks stomach. Dark heard Antis' gasp as the small demon desperately tried to pull the man back, but to no avail. Dark just stared at the knife and started to chuckle. "A knife? Really? That's my specialty. But I won't fight you because you're drunk. So put the knife down." Dark mumbled, amused. Then suddenly the knife was almost thrust into Darks stomach, but instead it just stabbed at the air Dark had once been accompanying. The Irishman looked around confused. "Over here." Dark called wistfully from the couch. The Irishman lifted his knife again, ready to stab, but instead, Anti grabbed the older mans arm and snatched the pocket knife out of it, closing the knife in the process. "You just got out and you're already drinking? Come on Uncle Gen, at least be nice to Darky, please." Anti pleaded with the man. 'Uncle Gen' swerved his head towards Anti. "Who tha hell are ya?" The man slurred drunkly. "Oh geez, let's go get ya sobered up." Anti shifted his arm under Gens and helped him up the stairs, Gen grumbling the whole way.
Who the hell is he?
And why did he say he owned the house?
And Anti?
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Brutal Love (Antiplier)
RomanceWell idk for a description but howa bout this? Mark and Jacks' relationship was going flawlessly and not a soul seemed upset about it. But this isn't a story about Mark and Jack. It's about their counterparts. Oh yes. The one and onlys. Dark doesn'...
