LA Devotee//B.U

Eight

Brendon hugged me and rocked me back and forth, calming me down.

"Why are you crying?" He asked, rubbing circles on my back. I sniffled and broke the hug, looking at him.

"I don't know, stress, I guess..." I shrugged.

"I understand, you've been through a lot. If you need to cry, you have me, all you have to do is ask." He smiled, causing me to do the same.

"What do I have to do in the cult?" I questioned, making a glimmer in his eye appear.

"All you have to do is obey me, that's about it, and with the new device in your stomach, I think you'll be totally capable of doing that. Now, how about we go get some food?" He got up and walked away. This gave me time to think. Why is he being a million times nicer? I've asked the question many times before, but it's not like I could give myself an answer. And why am I not mad at him for doing the thing? Obviously, most of the answer is the device he put in me, which has calmed me from the rage I should be getting. I stirred in my bed, getting comfier than I was before. I thank Brendon for moving me from that chair, and I also thank him for not tying me up. I heard his powerful footsteps boom around the room. He smiled at me and sat down, taking the plate that had a Nutella smeard bagel. He also had the chalice with the wine in it. Is his goal to make me an alcoholic? The wine he had tasted amazing. Must be authentic. I leaned forward and took a bite of the bagel, having Nutella on the side of my mouth. I hate it when that happens. Brendon smiled and took a paper towel, wiping the chocolatey substance of my cheeks.

"Thank you!" I smiled, taking another bite of the bagel that he placed in front of my face.

"You're welcome! And since you're not tied up, just eat it yourself, the wine is on the table, I'll go get your perscriptions." He announced, walking off to where he left when he got the food. I ate my bagel in peace, taking a sip of wine to wash it down. I cringed at the taste. This wine was much too bitter. Doesn't matter though, wine is wine. I'm just glad he's giving me stuff to eat. He walked back to the chair he was in, taking a bottle and dumping out two green, cylindrical pills.

"Here, they'll help your stomach heal, take them either with the wine, or by air." He stuck his hand out and handed me the pills. I took them out of his hand, placed them in my mouth and took a sip of wine, making the pills go down my throat. 

"Woah, that was hard." I stated, putting the chalice down. Brendon smiled and took the dirty plate, placing it on a table right beside the bed. I started laying down in my bed and looked at my tattoo. I turned to Brendon who was examining me examining my tattoo. 

"Can I see yours?" I requested, taking his arm and pulling his sleeve up. He chuckled as he watched me try and find differences in the tattoo. 

"They're identical, aren't they?" I asked, looking back and forth from the tattoos. He laughed and gently moved his arm back to the seat, rolling his sleeve down. 

"Of course they are! They're supposed to be, because it needs to be an exact bond between you and I. It's also my symbol as a God." He informed. I nodded and looked at him, getting butterflies in my stomach. 

"Um, what happened to the two people who got 'what they deserved'?" I inquired, making him sigh. He took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

"I can't tell you, I'm so very sorry, but I just can't, doll. It would make you lose my trust, and I can't have that happening, maybe sometime later, but right now,  I have no power to do so." He sighed, stroking my hands as he looked at me. I nodded and looked down.

"I guess if you say I shouldn't know, then I guess I shouldn't know." I sighed, making Brendon nod.

"Thank you for understanding!"