Wrath (King Dice x Reader x Devil)

Guilt

The ash was all encompassing. You couldn't die, but if you couldn't escape you would be stuck. Buried for all eternity. You would be stuck in the endless torture of suffocation, breathlessness- pain you couldn't escape through death because death was an impossibility. This trial; this great escape is what every reborn is tested with. You clawed and clamoured, intense pain swelling through your head, your brain needing oxygen. You were sure you could make it out, light starting to shine through the dusty black. You pulled with what remaining strength you had left, just wanting the pain to go away. All you needed was a breath.

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Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air, sitting upright. There was no ash. No dust. In fact, you found you were in a beautiful, spacious room, tucked in tightly to a large comfortable bed, with silky, flowing white sheets. You weren't buried alive. You weren't struggling for breath. It was all just a dream, a nightmare, a memory from long ago. Your head was definitely aching though. The pain was real. You attempted to stand up and get out of bed but ended up sliding onto the floor with a painful thud. You used the wall as a crutch to lean against. While slowly making your way to the vanity on the other side of the room you noticed the pillow you had been sleeping on; deep scarlet had seeped through and stained the lavish (and probably expensive) pillowcase. You felt a pang of guilt at ruining the things of whoever's room you were in. It obviously wasn't your room. Your room was nice, but it wasn't this nice. Your mind, still hazy started to wonder about where exactly you were and who took you here as you flopped onto the vanity table, raising your head to check yourself in the mirror. Deep wounds could be seen either side of your head, and you recalled the sharp impact of the bullet with a shudder. But you had mostly healed- you could see the bone of your skull on both wounds, but neither had a hole in them. That was relieving. You just wished you could get some fire to close up the wound much faster than the slow rate it was healing at currently. Although still blurred by pain, you did wonder why the Devil hadn't completely healed you either. You were sure that he had started to at the very least...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening, although your head was hurting far too much to turn it and see who had entered.

"Darlin?" The door slammed shut, and seconds later you felt hands grasping your shoulders, helping you to your feet. Your gaze was trained to the mirror, and if it wasn't obvious enough from the beautiful, deep voice that had filled the room, King Dice was gingerly holding you up, one hand on your waist, the other under your arm in order to assure the best stability for you. "Thank Goodness your awake, darlin, you've had me real worried for a while..." He sounded so relieved to you, but his face still reflected concern. You were barely registering anything, feeling like you were about to pass out again, something which Dice would have clearly noticed from the expression on your face and your lack of response. "You shouldn't be out of bed yet though," He tried to turn you around to lead you back towards the bed, "Let me take care of ya, doll," He spoke so gently, but you stayed facing the mirror and clung tightly to his arm. You could semi-see in the reflection of the mirror him raising an eyebrow at you.

"Dice... Sir..." You murmured weakly, still having enough common sense to correct yourself mid-sentence. "Do... Do you have a lighter?" He still looked confused, and you could understand why.

"A lighter? Darlin, what on earth do ya need a lighter fo..." He began but you were quick to cut him off, not wanting to loose consciousness again.

"Please... sir..." You insisted, trying to muster up enough voice to sound confident and sure of yourself. Dice merely sighed, still holding you up with one hand the other digging into his pockets to pull out a silver lighter.

"Here ya go," his voice was soothing as he placed the lighter into your open hand, your palms pressing sweetly against each other that if your face wasn't so deadly pale from blood-loss you might have blushed. You fumbled for a second to get the flame going but once you did you immediately held it up to your wound, letting the fire sear and clear your flesh, it piecing itself back together significantly faster all while Dice watched you with curiosity. Once you had completely healed one side, you did the other until there was not even a sliver of a scar left and all the pain had subsided. Your mind cleared, and you took a deep breath, turning to face Dice who looked as if he needed some clarification.

"I'll explain, I promise," You told him, anxious that he could get mad at you for keeping this secret from him when the Devil clearly knew, but he simply gave you a gentle smile, and took your hand leading you back to the bed.

"You lie down and get some rest darlin. You can explain while I take care of ya, alright?" He told you, and even if you had lost a lot of blood, you were certain that you were blushing. He helped you back into the bed, arranging the pillows so that you were sitting up before he disappeared shortly into the en-suite, returning with a damp cloth. He sat himself on the edge of the bed and started to dab and wash away the drying blood that was staining your face and neck. You had never felt so guilty.

"I'm sorry about your pillows..." was the first thing you were able to muster up, you lightly taking the stained silk in-between your fingers. The first of many apologies really. Dice was quite focussed on cleaning you up, being gentle about wiping at your skin in order not to cause you any level of discomfort.

He simply brushed aside your apology. "It's not a problem, darlin'," he tried to ease away your anxieties, sensing how uncomfortable you were, "they don't matter... you do." Your heart felt heavy. You felt as if you somehow had betrayed him- betrayed his kindness and care- with your games with the devil. You hadn't expected them to get as far as they did.

And after everything that had happened, it was Dice taking care of you.

"I don't deserve your kindness," You blabbered out, your mouth speaking before your brain had time to process what you were saying. Dice's eyes were filled with amusement as he placed the bloodied cloth onto his lap.

"You deserve the world, baby doll," He told you, his hand moving to push some stray (H/C) hair out of your face. You had noticed that his hands weren't gloved like they normally were as he caressed your cheek, running the back of his fingers along your jawline. The feeling of his skin on yours made your face burn up. It wasn't long though, as you stared deep into his emerald eyes, before his amused expression dropped to a darker more solemn one. "I'd.. I'd been so worried doll. I mean, I felt like it was a miracle that your heart didn't stop beating... the amount of blood you lost... but you'd been out for three days and I was so scared about losing ya..." He trailed off.

Guilt. Absolute guilt filled you. To have him worry about you so much, to have him care should have felt wonderful, but all you could feel was guilty. Guilty about how you had made him feel for the last few day, guilty about not telling him the truth about your regeneration, guilty that it was your fault that this had all happened. You took his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.

"I'm so sorry Sir," You muttered out, not even looking him in the eye. "This is all my fault, If I hadn't been such an idiot, if I hadn't pulled that damn trigger, if I had just told you..." your voice had risen, anger searing through you. You were so angry, but at yourself, not anyone else. You took a slow breath before continuing, focussing on the warmth that you could feel from Dice's hand in yours, the joy you felt that he hadn't immediately retracted his hand from yours, in order to calm yourself down. "If I had just told you I can't die," You resumed, your voice softer, "I wouldn't have gotten you so worried... I wouldn't have wasted your time." You had finally raised your eyes to meet his, only to see the gentle, caring expression on his face that you didn't think you deserved.

He moved his free hand, never letting go of yours, to wipe away tears that you hadn't even realised that you shed, closing some distance between you.

"I started to suspect your immortality and regenerative abilities already darlin by the fact that you had pulled through this long," He mused, cupping your cheek. "I just couldn't quite figure out how to trigger your regeneration. I shoulda realised sooner that it was fire, considering the bosses actions... forgive me for that," he lightly chuckled, leaning in closer to you. "And you could never waste my time, (Y/N). Never." He spoke with such sincerity that you felt like you might cry again. You didn't though. Instead, you took the closeness between you to your advantage to lean up and finally press your lips against his.