“Who’s a good boy?” he crooned, scratching and petting its belly. “Who’s the best boy in the whole, wide world? It’s you, isn’t it? There we go. Precious little thing.”
When Saint glanced at Knight, the demon was staring at him, something warm and longing in his eyes that made Saint immediately look away, his stomach swooping.
He took a deep breath, bracing himself, then stood. The dog immediately began to whine.
“I know, I know,” Saint said softly. “But you know I can’t.” He unlocked the second gate, not looking back, ignoring the dog’s pitiful whines. “Come on, Knight.”
Saint carefully looked over the small entryway, careful not to show his anxiety. No stray chicken heads or other threatsawaited him. He let out a soft, relieved breath. Even though Knight was literally here to protect him, for some odd reason, he didn’t want the demon to think Saint needing his presence here was a big deal. It was temporary and Saint would be fine.
The moment he unlocked his front door, the dog took that as its cue. It stopped whining, sitting back on its haunches, staring at him with pitiful, wet eyes.
Saint forced down the pain and guilt as he resolutely shut the door.
“Why aren’t you taking it in?” Knight was frowning. “The animal is unclaimed, isn’t it?”
“I can’t afford it right now.” Saint shook his head, dumping his little bag on the single sofa in the room before heading for the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “I can’t afford to get attached. Anymoreattached,” he amended at Knight’s disbelieving silence.
“What exactly can’t you afford about it?”
Saint had this silent argument with himself every time he closed the door on the poor dog’s face. “Vet appointments. Dog food. To give him my time and attention when he needs it. To train him to be a house dog, not a stray animal. A whole bunch of shit.”
“I can check him over,” Knight offered, like it was nothing. “And if you show me an example of what his food looks like, I can duplicate it. Right here.” He wiggled his fingers, as if to remind Saint that he had magic. “And you canmaketime.”
Saint couldn’t help but entertain the idea for a brief second, his throat thick with longing. The ache burned under his ribs, to just open the door and let the dog come in. Give him a bath, a name—let himself havesomesort of affection, if he wouldn’t let himself have it with anyone real.Yet, he tacked on, heart pounding.
But—
“And after you leave?” he forced himself to ask, turning to face Knight. “What happens then?”
Knight didn’t respond. What was there to say?
Saint headed for his small wardrobe, dropping his security bag inside. He heard more than saw Knight take a seat on his bed.
He took his phone out, switching it from silent to loud, and felt his heart leap when he saw that he had a message from Teresa.
Saint Teresa
I see that you’ve seen my last message, but you haven’t yet given your usual response. Am I to take that as an acceptance of my invitation? <_<
Saint snorted at the symbol emoticon—what was up with her and her allergy to using actual emojis?—then stared at the message, heart pounding.
“Hey.” He looked up. Knight was eyeing him with concern. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
Saint looked back down at the message. He shouldn’t go. He knew he shouldn’t. Just because Knight was here didn’t mean anything had changed. If he did this, what would happen after Knight left? The demon’s presence was making him feel like he was invincible; it would be torture after he left and Saint was forced to remember that he wasn’t. Not even close.
What are you so afraid of?
What if someone from his past, by some odd, disastrous miracle,spottedhim there? What if this was some kind of cruel prank, or what if Teresa was an undercover snitch, luring queer folk to abandoned sites so she could—
Saint forced himself to stop. He knew Teresa. He trusted her. She’d only ever wanted his happiness.
What are you so afraid of?
He wasn’t under his parents’ thumbs anymore. He’d spent years dismantling his beliefs and constructing new ones; he’d built a new community, as small and online as it was. He’d left his bigoted, close-minded church behind. And Knight was here, should they think of trying anything when they noticed he wasn’t running like he usually did.
He was supposed to be free, in every sense of the word.
