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His eyes snap open in near-complete darkness. A shout pulls him into sluggish wakefulness, though the constant flame in him, where his God-loved heart once was, helps him gain wakefulness faster.
A scream echoes in his mind, and he remembers. Clasping a broken body to him as it melts like wax, hot as molten gold, searing him deep, weeping on him as blood and angel-flesh stain Paimon’s mouth.
Cassiel, angel of tears.
I’m sorry.
He stares up on the ceiling when the sheets shift, and he knows then, with a lurch in his chest, that the sounds didn’t come from a nightmare. Or rather, his nightmare.
He raises himself and watches as Lauren?iu twitches in his sleep, back to him. He makes small, pained sounds like a wounded animal.
Paimon remains where he is, unsure of what to do. Understandably, after all he’s endured, all the betrayals and loneliness he’s gone through, Lauren?iu keeps his distance.
It’s more complicated than that. Paimon is a King of Hell. Lauren?iu is a soul.
They’re in the same bed.
He mustn’t cross a boundary, despite angels never really having strict boundaries and labels and not knowing exactly what to do or what to look for.
Yes, most of the fallen angels would guffaw.Oh, you can destroy your closest companion in Heaven, fuck Lucifer in the blood of dead angels, connive and murder, but you can’t bring yourself to fuck your subordinates. What a saint you are, Paimon! Such consistent standards.
Besides the rain, a distant cough, and Daisy’s light snores, the room is quiet.
Lauren?iu cries in his sleep, “Don’t leave, don’t go, don’t...” A shiver.
“Shit,” Paimon mutters. He moves closer to Lauren?iu, within touching distance.
Tentatively, he sets his full hand on the fabric of Lauren?iu’s shirt, on his back. The vampire releases a whimper that breaks his heart. Or perhaps, his memory of his heart that he gave up to reign in Hell.
Daisy, stirring, eyes glowing in the dark, comes to rest in the space between Lauren?iu and the nightstand, worriedly licking his face. He doesn’t wake.
Paimon rubs gentle circles into Lauren?iu’s back.
“It’s okay, darling,” he whispers. “You’re safe.” Then, he softly hums a song Lucifer taught him long ago, a song he thought he forgot. But it’s etched into his bones.
A terrible realization hits him.
Maybe I’m the one giving him nightmares.
You belong in Hell. You are Hell. You bring misery, not comfort.
You are a monster. Your existence is unlovable.
After all, a monster is meant to be under the bed, not in it.
Sorrow softens his features, ribbed in shadow, and Paimon draws away from Lauren?iu, who goes quiet, breathing deeply.
Chapter 9
Lauren?iu
When Lauren?iu wakes, the digital clock on the nightstand pronounces, in red, that it’s after three in the morning. A stabbing pain in his throat jolts him from sleep, and he’s confused when he feels a warm mass pressed against him. He reaches out, and finds fur. Daisy. He’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved.
He turns to check on Paimon. He’s fast asleep.
Lauren?iu sifts through his mind, trying to remember what he dreamed of. He doesn’t remember anything. The good news is that despite not usually falling asleep easily around most people, ever on guard and distrustful, he didn’t have much trouble drifting off once he shut his eyes.
Another burning pang in his stomach, in his throat. He is both too awake and can barely keep his eyes open.
