Chapter Text
You just sit there, stunned at the story, at the weight of his words. If all this is true, if even half of this is true... You raise your head, swallowing hard. The demon stares back at you, seemingly uncomfortable under your inquiring gaze.
“Can I send you away?”
You almost regret what you just said when you see how the demon's expression changes. He seems worn and dejected, and he has a pained frown when he replies.
“You can. There's a ritual to follow, but it's not very complicated.”
Realizing he just truthfully answered, you falter before asking the next question.
“Were you and her... The witch. Were you... lovers?”
The demon nods, warily observing you.
“That, and more. I was her companion, created to help and protect her through her life.”
He looks at the side, staring in the distance. Is he reliving memories? You shudder at the thought of what this means.
“...How many have rejected you?”
The demon sharply looks up at you, a faint anger boiling in his eyes.
“None. I proved my worth to anyone I met soon enough.”
You reach halfheartedly to your head, remembering that he just healed you.
“I'm... I'm sorry. Thank you for just now. I was... I am... scared. It's not every day that you meet a...”
Your hands helplessly gesture, trying to grasp words out of thin air.
“...Do you have a name?”
The demon smiles at you, and another pang shoots through your chest. Why is he having this effect on you?
“I'm to be given a name by you.”
He relaxes his posture and changes his stance, at which you're visually reminded of the fact that you're not the only one who's barely clothed. You hastily look to the side and back to him, confirming that indeed, down below he looks very much the same as the dildo you bought. Only, his would be warm and...
You instantly slap both of your hands against your cheeks, the sharp pain sending a shock through you, while you tell yourself to snap out of it. The demon jumps up while looking worried.
You hold up a hand to stop him and shake your head.
“I'm... Okay. I'm trying to focus here. On... All of this.”
He backs off, nodding wisely, as if he perfectly knows what you're going through.
“Could you... Do you have clothing?”
You hiss when you hear how shrill your voice is, but the demon seems just slightly amused by the question.
“I was just born again. I didn't bring anything with me, except for my memory and my talents.”
His talents, from which you deduce he can do more than just heal people. You hastily get up and walk to the closet again, rummaging through your older clothes until you find a torn pair of sweatpants that might fit him, as well as an oversized T-shirt that you use to sleep in.
“Here.”
You throw the clothes on the bed near him, not feeling comfortable enough to get close to the demon again.
“Thank you, Y/N. You're a kind lady.”
The word use makes you frown, and while the demon struggles to get into the clothes, you ask him another question.
“You're welcome, I guess. How...How long has it been since you were brought into sleep again?”
“... I think it was around 1917. There was a war. He... My companion died too soon.”
You blink at the demon, stupefied by this new piece of information.
“Your last lover was a man?”
Something in the gaze that's directed at you makes you falter and forget about any more questions.
“Yes, he was. And we weren't lovers. He wasn't interested in that kind of relationship, although I offered it.”
The demon finally managed to get into the pants, and looks questioningly at the shirt. He folds it up again, and while holding it with both hands, he extends it to you.
“I can't put this on without destroying it, and I think you may be attached to this. I don't want to tear it up.”
His concern for something as simple as a worn shirt moves you more than you'd like to admit, and you hesitantly reach out to take the shirt back. His huge hands gently lower the folded cloth into your outstretched palms, returning the shirt to you. Suddenly, the demon becomes anxious again.
“Can I please have a name? ...I feel more naked without a name than without clothes.”
The baritone is sweet and gentle, the words pleading. The name parts from your lips before you realize it.
“Damien.”
Immediately, the demon straightens his back and looks brighter. He pronounces the name a few times, as if tasting it, and finally nods in confirmation.
“Yes. Damien. I like it. Thank you, Y/N.”
His enthusiasm is almost childlike and you can't help but smile back at him. Even though he looks intimidating, he seems... Nice? Somewhat?
Damien starts looking around the room, seemingly fascinated by the rack of figurines on your wall. He gets up and walks towards it, the heavy muscles bulging out in your former pants. In the back, you notice he didn't get the tail in, and he rather let it dangle above the belt. Even in the dim lights of your room, the golden freckles on his back shimmer, as if his hide is illuminated from within. He's a fascinating creature, to say the least.
“Are these your gods?” asks Damien, while pointing at the shelves.
You smile back at him and shake your head.
“Not exactly. Those are figurines... Statues of characters from books and games that I like,” you try to explain. “You can collect those. Do you like them?”
The amber eyes shift between you and the shelf, and Damien carefully picks something up – a dragon statue – to study it from closer by. A sharp nail carefully glides over the scales and the gaping jaw, before Damien puts the figurine back and returns his attention to you.
“Times sure have changed. I'm used to getting chased out and being treated violently – people trying to kill me - when I'm reborn. Instead, there's a lovely young woman waiting for me, adorning her quarters with dragons and books, giving me a great name. I think I like this age. And you.”
You blush softly at the compliments, not used to someone being so straightforward with you. Damien walks closer to you, an inquiring stare fixated on you this time.
“Y/N, I just wondered. Under what shape did I arrive here?”