This was just a little plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. There might be another fic to do with Nikola's devamping, but it depends on my confidence after posting this one. (I quite like the idea of him having to get used to things mortals take for granted that when he was immortal he was completely cool with.) Thanks again for reading. :D
This was not part of his grand plan. Being devamped? Not part of the plan.
Being devamped in the middle of summer? Worst. Thing. Ever.
"Nikola?" Helen's tone as she looked up from her work would have amused him, all tired surprise wrapped in sunbaked cotton, had his face not ached so much.
"Why, Helen? Why?" he asked dramatically, pointing to his reddened nose.
Helen sighed and stood from her desk, indicating the sofa with a grand sweep of her arm as she crossed the room. He'd been miserable about the whole devamping for a week now, had even sequestered himself to her favourite tower, and the sooner this particular bout of dramatics was over, the sooner she'd get to her reports and a few hours sleep. "You're human now, Nikola. UV rays really are the enemy." Sitting on her couch, she quirked him a small half smile. "You're going to have to invest in some sunscreen."
Nikola's lip curled into a sneer. "And smell like a coconut?" He shook his head. "It isn't the burning." He turned away, not wanting to see the mirth that would inevitably follow his admission. "The freckles have come back," he whispered darkly, looking out the window.
Helen's nose crinkled, and although Nikola couldn't see her he knew she was smiling. "Oh, freckles are lovely. You make it sound like it's the end of the world." Her voice was annoyingly soft in the lamplight. Helen tiled her head to one side, watching her friend stalk away from the window. "And they're really not that obvious-"
"Hah!" he interrupted, turning to stalk back to her, his eyes blazing. "I can see them, even with these weak, human eyes." Collapsing next to her, a sigh whooshed out of him. "And you can too." Hissing, his fingers curled away from his face, the skin on the bridge of his nose howling at the friction.
Suffused with empathy, Helen pushed off the sofa. "Wait there a moment," she instructed, oddly missing his usual feral grin. A few moments later, she breezed back in, a non-descript bottle in her hand. "I haven't any foundation in your shade," Nikola sneered, but she ignored him and carried on, "but this aloe should help with the burn." She held out the bottle, as she held his gaze.
Those haunted eyes, glittering in the lamp light, watched her through his lashes. Helen suddenly felt very exposed, her heart pounding hard against her ribs. Their friendship was one part flirtation (mostly him, when he wasn't being so dramatic) and three parts snippy commentary. Flushing slightly, Helen glanced away, cleared her throat, and looked back at him with the expression Nikola knew as suspiciously perplexed. Smirking again, he took the bottle. "Thank you. Put some on me?"
Sitting down next to him, Helen rolled her eyes good naturedly and pushed the bottle towards him. Concern quickly swept the annoyance from her face, colouring every part of her features. "Nikola…"
Standing abruptly, he kept his face away from her. His name, in that soft tone, made his stomach clench, and not in the happy, warm way he usually enjoyed when Helen said his name (he even got it when she yelled his name in anger). Walking around the sofa, he strode to the door to pause in front of it. Turning the handle, opening said door, would be one more nail in the coffin where lay his immortality. With that click he would be Nikola Tesla, freckle face again. "I don't want to be 'lovely'."
Hearing Helen's soft sigh, he opened the door. Closing it, he missed one final revelation.
"I quite like them."