Gods and Demons Don't Mix. (Font Demon x OC)

Chapter Three: Teatime with a Demon

It was dark inside Katrina's home, but not unpleasantly so; in fact the low lighting gave the snug home a warm and comfortable character with the gentle orange lanterns glowing softly in the corner and shafts of golden sunlight radiating heat into the room. Everything here seemed to be hand-made, from the rug on the floor, to the squat table, even to the owner's clothes. Katrina was not old, but laughter lines creased her ebony skin and her walk was stiff as she descended the steep steps and bowed respectfully.

"Oh, you don't have to bow. We're not royalty." I said quickly, gently nudging the mortal upright. Her coffee brown eyes gleamed in wonder and shock as I removed my hand from her shoulder, she would probably treasure that brief interaction forever.

"But you saved our home and rid us of that scourge, y'all deserve somthin'" she said gratefully, patting my hand with a smile. "An' if ya don't want me t' bow, I'll offer y'all some tea."

I had a feeling I would not be able to talk my way out of this one, but my stomach decided then and there to growl at the thought of finally being filled. Eh, what harm can it do? Tea is just what I need right now, I'm knackered. I let Katrina guide us to the living space and sat down heavily on a hand-carved chair with a sigh. My feet were killing me and I hadn't eaten or slept for days. In full, I was completely exhausted. Watching the human woman bustle away to her kitchen in her extravagantly dyed robe, I let my head tilt back and closed my eyes briefly, inhaling the warm scent of spices and fresh laundry. Only when I sensed an intense gaze on me did I lift my head. The demon was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking rather uncomfortable since he was at least head and shoulders too tall for the ceiling. I still couldn't get over the fact that I, Zohra, god of nothing in particular, had held a lengthy and rather one-sided conversation with this magnificent, white-haired creature who had only a few days ago tried to kill me. Keep your friends close but enemies closer, eh, Zohra? I pushed my thick hair from my face and motioned with my chin for the demon to sit, wincing as the strands aggravated the multitude of cuts on my hands.

"Sit down, no-one's gonna jump out at you." I said exasperated. The demon noticed the way I tentatively curled my fingers, face expressionless and yet there was a slight glimmer in his eyes. Concern? I wondered, why would a demon be concerned for me? An intrusive thought cut across my mind, Who cares, he may not have a great range of facial expressions, but he sure as hell is a real piece of eye-candy. Shocked I pushed it away, I certainly did not need thoughts like those right now.

"You're hurt." He stated in that voice that sent shivers down my spine. Somehow his voice managed to be emotionless and incredibly appealing at the same time; it was low and slightly husky and reminded me of sweet, rich red wine. I acted like it was no big deal, despite the fact that, yes, my hands were really starting to throb right now. I tried not to wince.

"I'm fine. Sit down."

Finally the demon seated himself on a chair that was too low for his long legs, forcing him to cross them inelegantly at the heel. Okay, so he's trainable. That's good. A tinkling of crockery and Katrina emerged from the kitchen, followed closely by a girl, perhaps nine or ten years old, who also shared her ebony colouring. Both of them were laden with trays and kettles and plates piled high with honey-cakes. My stomach growled again, not wanting to wait any longer. The girl, who I assumed was Katrina's daughter started at me with wide eyes, or rather, she stared at my hair. So intense was her gaze, I shifted in my seat.

"This is ma' daughter, Maya." Said Katrina proudly as she set out the tea things, I gratefully accepted a cup of the steaming tea. She offered one to the demon, who took it hesitantly. He seemed slightly unsure what to do now that he had the mug, glancing at me for guidance. Holding eye contact I lifted the hem of my scarf until it was pushed above the rim of the cup, and sipped. The demon copied the motion, and thankfully the humans didn't notice our brief exchange. I pulled my scarf back down again, making sure that no-one glimpsed the lower half of my face and set the tea on the table.