The Half of It

Chapter Two

Cold leather was instantly pressed firmly against his half-opened mouth, and Lance's eyes rolled to the side as he struggled to peek at his assaulter. Material forced a taste of gasoline and a smoke of tobacco onto his taste buds (which was recognizable thanks to his uncle who would smoke at every family gathering and therefore cause Lance's hair to reek for days, no matter how many times he washed it and nourished it with hair products), and the press of the leather was too rough and Lance just needed to inhale a bit of fresh air. His back was leaned against the firm and solid surface that kept him steady in place, and he wondered how strong his attacker was if he managed to keep him immobile just by a hand clasped over his mouth?

He kept on wiggling and mumbling, but to no avail. The moment went on and it led to an absence of any verbal contact, which appeared odd to the tan boy. It felt like time stood still, momentum inalterable, and all he could do is just wait. For something. Lance didn't know what, but something. To get him out of the frozen speck of time or something to put an end to its duration.

What he wasn't hoping for was for the moment to end with a tongue too hot roughly gliding against the side of his neck, all the way up to his ear and for brisk licking to turn into a nose-dive full of his chocolate hair locks. He heard two or three inquisitive sniffs occurring against his nape. Whoever it was behind him, they seemed to rhapsodically bathe in the faint trace of apple shampoo and the intimate scent of his scalp urged the assaulter to stick their face into his hair and just linger.

Lance felt shivers spiraling down the full length of his spine and his shoulders, being sorely sensitive at the invasive contact which worsened when the assaulter stifled a growl with a nose stubbornly buried in his streaks, and he began to tremble.

''You scream, you wake up earthlings.'' A low and authoritative tone made his hair stand on his head. Lance didn't say anything but continued to wait. "They wake up, see me, and you know the outcome.''

His assaulter was a male. With murder tendencies. So far so good.

He tried to associate the assaulter's articulation with a certain age, and surprisingly Lance was thoroughly convinced that the vicious person behind him was a guy; he sounded young, although he maintained composure like a pro and vigor in his threatening tone emphasized his juvenescence.

Lance felt ashamed.

Lance was supposed to be able to put up a fight. To fight and win, preferably. But he was slim and lean and If he could turn back time, he would have his days dedicated to running, gym and establishing healthier habits instead of lazying around his room and stuffing himself with sugar and genetically modified food. His body had a good foundation to build a castle on it, but he didn't even consider a shed.

What if one of his friends was here instead of him? What if he wasn't able to save them - what then?

The back of his throat began to burn.

"Look, I'll release you, but if you shout, I'll snap your neck. Understood?"

Lance's muscles slowly relaxed when he processed the words, and he promptly nodded. Within a second, he was free and the candles that were still scattered all over the floor lit up right away as he inattentively turned around.

He found himself face to face with his assaulter, and something in the air around them made him shiver and forced him to step back. The guy in front of him was too much to savor - the onyx streaks that fell over his spotless porcelain face, tucked behind his ears and all over his forehead, his starless huge and liquid eyes with a tint of amethyst which were bent in a frown, his soft-button nose, and his flat yet smooth-looking lips that were forming a tight and dissatisfied line, but even a scowl added to his appeal and he looked unnaturally beautiful; he looked inhumane.

He ducked his head to the side, scrutinizing the lanky boy in front of him. "Why did a maggot like yourself try to summon my father? What kind of disrespect is this? Do you want war?"

His father.

His fa-

He-

"You are a demon." Lance prompted.

A demon, right in front of his fucking eyes.

"Why are you surprised? You summoned one of us and unfortunately for me, me. So here I am." The demon huffed.

Lance opened his mouth to say something, but the demon quickly added. "If my father showed up instead, he wouldn't think twice about slaughtering you. He hates the stupid and you seem to volunteer."

''If he also showed up with a mullet I'd pay him to kill me off just so I wouldn't have to look at it." Lance scoffed, crossing arms over his chest.

The demon's impatience was drawn across his features. ''You absurd human imbecile. You wanted to summon my father, consider yourself lucky it was me who showed up. Some of us know how to hesitate before they cut straight to the point." He looked around the attic with a scowl.

"To think someone like you managed to perfectly perform the ritual..."

Lance had had enough. He kicked the candles at his left, knelt and began to scratch the sigil with his nails. The demon surged forward, grabbed Lance by the forearm and roughly pulled him back to his feet.

However, it was way too late.

"You absolute human cretin!" The demon furiously roared, his eyes melting into a pair of crimson-colored stones that threatened to bleed out of wrath. A long and thin chain steamed into the attic out of the blue, wrapped around Lance's right hand and the demon's left one, fading from the sight right after it had glowed with a vibrant purple shade, leaving Lance and the demon in silence.

"You've just trapped me on Earth."

Lance's heart sank. He wanted to wake up from the nightmare already. He didn't understand why he didn't.

"And you've just created the bond," the guy forcefully yanked on the chain between them to expose his remark, ''which can't be undone."

Lance wanted to faint right there and then. What in the world did he get himself into was a question he had supposed to ask himself long before he got to that point of his life where he had nothing less but the beautiful and noxious demon grimly smiling into his face.

"I'll think of a nice collar."