"... why?" you asked softly, not bothering to turn around again. Not when you were so certain that his hand was on your shoulder in a mocking gesture. You didn't have the strength to deal with false sympathy.
"Why what?" came Anti's voice, less glitchy and garbled than usual. Was he calmed down?
"Why are you still here? I haven't made a decision yet, so you can just go."
But oh, why am I lying to myself? I know damn well I want that bastard sent to Hell, but I'm so terrified of being in Hell myself!
Anti could hear your every thought, and he frowned slightly, unseen with your back being turned. He remained knelt on the floor beside you, one steady hand on your shoulder. The comfort that you would never get otherwise. He had been shocked by your wound, for reasons he didn't place. You seemed so innocent, so pure compared to him. Shouldn't he have loathed you for what you were? Because of what he himself was? Why was he comforting you, indeed?
His mouth worked over a few times, trying to put his messy thoughts into words. His usual bloodlust had faded, and the silence that followed in his head was strange and alien to him. What, exactly, were you doing to him? Why couldn't he find the drive to torture you? He had had no problems with other pathetic humans before, especially the stupid ones.
You weren't particularly stupid. You didn't completely summon him willingly. So then what was stopping the demon from his fun? "You have one day left, bitch," he muttered. The hand on your shoulder remained. His words were meant to be cutting, insulting, but... perhaps you had gone though enough torment for one day?
Anti sighed, annoyed with the both of you as he sat down properly on the floor. He would stay, he decided, at least until you were of the right mindset. The demon knew you had already made up your mind, but he needed the words to be spoken from your lips. He needed that verbal contract, or else he could do nothing.
You, on the other hand, kept your mouth shut. You knew damn well you only had a day left to figure things out. You couldn't help but wonder if it would even work; what would happen if your boyfriend fought back? Anti might have been a demon, a seemingly powerful one, but your boyfriend seemed to be just as powerful.
The idea that you would be punished for trying to banish him to Hell was too much to overcome, and the tears began to fall again. You cried softly, ignoring and even forgetting that you still were in the presence of a demon.
At least until he sighed again, standing up and pushing you into a sitting position. Anti gripped your head, careful not to touch the burn. It radiated heat and made even him wary. He knew that humans were cruel, despicable creatures, but the man you lived with seemed crueler than most.
He eyed the wound with a disgusted expression. It was oozing by now, and needed to be taken care of. Grabbing your wrist the demon pulled you into the bathroom, irritated as he pulled out the first aid kit, searching for burn salve and more gauze.
"Why are you doing this?" you asked quietly, tears still running down your face. The salt only made the wound sting more but it couldn't be helped.
"You've dealt with enough shit for today," Anti replied, visibly annoyed as he tended to your wound. As a human, you seemed more pathetic than most, and that was what annoyed him so.
No... pathetic wasn't the right word.
Covering your cheek in gauze he crossed his arms after putting the kit away. "Don't expect this every time you get hurt," he huffed. He was pouting like a child, unable to come up with the proper adjective for you.
"I never asked you to--"
"I kNOw!" Anti cried out, frustrated. Why couldn't he play with you like he had before?! Running a hand though his green hair he frowned deeply. "I can heal you. But I won't."
This fact made your tears stop in their tracks, anger replacing them. He could heal and yet he refused? But after a moment you understood why: it would be too suspicious to your boyfriend. You merely nodded, looking away.
He had stopped glitching altogether, looking more like a solid being than usual. It never happened before, and the realization was frustrating. Anti stormed out of the bathroom and towards the TV again, but did not disappear in a cloud of smoke as he might have wanted. Instead he turned to look at you again, over his shoulder.
Innocent. That's what you were. You were the embodiment of innocence, and the demon realized he could not corrupt that. He could torture you as he saw fit, but it would not corrupt you. You would simply break instead. And was that the kind of soul he really wanted as his own toy?
He grinned wide. An innocent soul, he had never had one before. He had had several toys, but they had all broken sooner or later. But to possess an innocent one, this was new. Something was struggling internally despite his grin, and he vehemently ignored it. No, this was what he wanted. A new toy. You just so happened to be innocent. There was nothing wrong with that.
Right?
(●)~
One day left...
You swallowed hard when you woke up again, gingerly touching your cheek. It was bandaged neatly, just as Anti had done.
So it wasn't a dream...? So then why did a demon comfort me?
It wasn't quite what you would have called comforting, but it was better than nothing. Anti had seemed so very exasperated by you, and it only reminded him of your boyfriend.
Great, cause that's what I need. A demon hanging around that makes me think of--
"Are you awake?" Your boyfriends voice cut through your thoughts and churned your stomach. What would he do that day? He merely prodded you with a finger, indicating that he wanted you to get up. His eyes were still half-shut, and he had not seen the bandage yet.
So what? I'll tell him I did it myself.
Except my efforts to bandage my wounds are sloppy at best...
Still. You managed to slide out of the bed, not remembering how you had gotten there to begin with, and silently walked into the kitchen to make him coffee and breakfast.
Soon enough the smells roused him from the bedroom, and he slipped up and behind you, arms around your waist. The side of his face pressed to your wounded cheek, making you flinch. He only chuckled. Peeling away the gauze he eyed the wound before running his tongue across it.
The feeling was a whole other world of discomfort and disgust. You groaned and squirmed your way out of his reach, making your boyfriend frown. "Why would you--"
"Do you really want to start rebelling against me this morning, darling?" he warned, and you closed your mouth. "Just as I thought," he added, now grumpy as he stormed from the kitchen again.
I used to love the mornings... not anymore. Now they're worse than when he comes home from work.
One day left, bitch...
