Belphegor x Reader: Reconciled

Chapter Two

The Avatar of Sloth

Silence filled the dining room, palpable between the Avatar of Sloth and the human. Belphegor crossed an arm across his lean body, grabbing onto his opposite elbow, worrying the fabric between his polished nails. She was right. Mammon hadn't tried to kill her. But he had. Some time had passed since then, since the rage, the bloodied clothing. Hate and love were different for humans than for demons. He knew that. He didn't feel the anger at her anymore - at any humans anymore. So why did it still make him so anxious when she shied away from him?

"I don't want to deal with this right now," Belphegor said, his voice low, tense. "I just want to sleep." He ran his hand over his face and through his blue-and-white streaked hair, the soft locks fluttering back around his cheeks. The Avatar of Sloth leaned against the back of his chair, his fingers plucking at his sleeve with renewed vigor. He sighed, waiting for a response from the woman. "Helloooo?"

"Okay, yeah. I hear you." The woman stood up, "What about the attic? You've got that bed up there, and you won't disturb Beel." She took Belphegor by his elbow, slipping her hand under his fidgeting fingers. She chided him, murmuring something about ruining the fabric of his coat. He cocked an eyebrow up at her, and cast a glance at her hand.

The woman gave the demon's arm a playful pinch with her fingers. "I told Beel I'd keep an eye on you," she said, tugging him along. Blephegor nodded, unsure if he should thank his brother or curse him for the favour  the woman was doing for him. She slid her fingers through the bend at his elbow, linking arms with him. "To the attic then?" She said, a slight hitch in her voice. Belphegor nodded. His stomach twisted, he pressed his cow-spotted against his middle.

The Human

I exhaled slowly, counting to five as I breathed out through my nose. I did not want to go to the attic, not really. Not after what had happened. Time had passed, and Belphie and I were... on better terms. He seemed committed to making amends with me, in his own way. Shifting on the couch in the music room when I entered so I'd have a place to sit, nudging Beel aside so I'd get a chance at the dinner table. And most noticeably, his honesty with me. Speaking his mind -even if it was a little rude, he did not seem to lie to me.

We reached the narrow, spiraling staircase up towards the attic. I released my grip on the demon's arm. His lean, muscular arm... what? "Go on," I said. I bit my tongue. That was weird. Right?  Belphegor trotted up the stairs, showing uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Maybe he was just keen to get up and into a bed? Sometimes he was so disarmingly playful, it made me forget the nervousness I had around him. Almost. I giggled quietly, and followed him up the stairs.

"You sure seem motivated," Belphegor mumbled at me, climbing the stairs with a loud yawn. "Why do I have to spend this time with you?" I muttered a reply to him, something about keeping my word to his brother. He huffed in acknowledgement. I tucked myself close to the wall of the stair case, ignoring him. I didn't like climbing these stairs – not because of the incident with the drowsy demon ahead of me. There was no railing on this staircase after the first winding loop. Only a long, open drop down to the floor below. I swallowed; my mouth suddenly dry. I placed my hand against the wall, feeling the dips and grooves of the stones as I climbed the stair, focusing on each step. Toe. Heel. Right. Left.

The sound of scuffing boots on stone grabbed my attention. The demon had stumbled, missing his footing.

He slammed into me, knocking me against the wall, a hand clutching my side. The air compressed from my lungs. I felt him teeter again. A chill ran over my skin, the prickling legs of a thousand insects. grabbed his shoulders, digging my nails into his jacket, pulling him against me. I clutched him to me, terror spreading through my veins. If he fell, he'd take me down with him. He might survive, being a demon, but I would not. "Belphie!" I shouted, yanking him firmly towards me.

He steadied. I clung to him, pressing my forehead against his shoulder blades, sucking in greedy breathes of air. Everything was spinning. I closed my eyes, my fingers curling like claws into the demon's coat. My head rang, cymbals clashing. I breathed out, counting the exhale. One, two, three, four, five... I loosened my grip on the Avatar of Sloth. My hands dragged down his back, and then wrapped around my hips, not willing to hang in mid-air.

"...What were you doing?" Belphegor asked me. He sounded distant.

"I... I was counting my breathing." I said, "It calms me."

"Oh." Belpeghor said. "I meant with your hands..."

"What? Oh!"

The demon pivoted on his heel. Finding that otherworldly grace he and his brothers had – sometimes. Rarely. He moved nimbly, nearly dancing up the next few steps. Then, reached a hand back to me. He smiled, sheepishly. "I... I'm sorry I knocked into you like that." My fingers landed hesitantly in his palm; he wrapped his hand closed around them. "I guess I dozed off..."

I bit back my words, knowing if I said anything it would come out furious. How do you doze off while climbing stairs?! The Avatar of Sloth ascended the stairs, slower, with more care than his previous attempt. Like me, he kept his free hand pressed against the stone wall. I didn't notice the grooves under my fingertips this time, I was too focused on the way the demon slid his thumb over the skin of my knuckles instead.