𝕼𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑 ⛦𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞⛦

JK Rowling

Chapter 2: JK Rowling

"You're bleeding." 

Turning towards the man next to her, Margo found herself a bit lost in his expression for a second until she followed his gaze. On her right arm, a long gash was torn into the skin. Luckily for her, it wasn't very deep and was almost sealed, but was still quite bloody. "It's fine." She mumbled, completely disregarding the knife wound as her focus turned back to the kitchen they were entering. 

When they found the kitchen to be empty, Margo went straight for the cupboards, pulling them open one by one. Crowley was caught in a bit of a daze, partially awed by the girl's utter indifference and partially..concerned. 

Shaking himself out of the state, his eyebrow soon quirked in curiosity. "What on Earth are you doing?"

Rummaging through mostly empty cabinets, Margo barely turned her head to acknowledge she heard the man. "Looking for salt." 

A small scoff fell from Crowley's lips, a smirk turning up the corners. "You're with the King of Hell, darling. You won't be needing salt." 

Just now seeming to realize that exact fact, Margo paused in her search. Pulling back from the shelving, she sat back on her legs from her spot on the counter. For a moment, neither of them said anything. Margo was thinking and Crowley - Crowley was just watching her. Watching the slight shift she made when the pressure on her shin became uncomfortable. Watching the minuscule change in her facial expression as she thought about everything that had happened that night, and even further back. The way her golden hair flowed gorgeously at even the smallest movement. Oh, how he wanted to run his fingers through her hair. 

"You're staring." 

"You're gorgeous." When Margo simply sent him an unamused look, he smirked. "What? I thought we were stating obvious facts." 

The girl's eyes rolled, her focus shifting back to a random wall as she moved to lean against the dusty fridge. "You're a demon, right?" Rolling her head to look at him for a moment, he nodded, wondering what she was getting at. "Demons don't have emotions. Don't sweet-talk me, just tell me what you want." 

"Correction; demons have limited emotions. What was that quote? Ah yes, 'the emotional range of a teaspoon.'" Before Crowley could finish speaking, Margo cut him off with a quick look his way and a baffled expression. 

"That's a Harry Potter quote." 

"Yes. It is. You seem to be under the impression that demons don't understand pop culture references. Don't confuse us with angels. Daft species." He trailed off, looking off to the side for a moment before his attention returned to the girl. "I myself am an exception. Don't tell anyone, but I have a...vaster range of emotions than my companions." 

The conspiratorial whisper pulled a small smile on her face, wondering how exactly the King of Hell had more emotions than normal demons. "So, I have a question." 

"Go for it." 

"Is JK Rowling going to hell?" 

"Oh, definitely." He answered automatically, taking a step forward to lean sideways against the other counter. "I mean, you think the woman wrote a series that good without a devil's kiss?" 

"Seriously?" Margo asked, expression one of amused wonder. 

"Oh, yeah." He nodded, now able to look the girl in the eye. "I signed the deal myself. I liked her though. Woman's got spunk. Real power pusher that one. So, I gave her thirty years instead of ten. In return, she agreed to become a demon straight off the bat."