First and probably last fic, I was just so inspired by TeamAlphaQ's writing in general, then with the new inclusion of Damien to the Communicationally Challenged series I got inspired to write an ANGSTY teenage version of the dark prince.
Romantic in a sad way.
Enjoy the tears.
I walked into my room late one night, finding myself face to face with a not-unfamiliar late night visitor. Whenever he did this, he always liked to joke that if he can still scare even his beloved, then he can never be THAT big of a disappointment to his father. He's not laughing tonight, though.
He did startle me at first, as he usually does when he sneaks into my life like this. I was about to tell him to go home and I'd see him at school tomorrow, but with how I was struggling to catch my breath I settled on something less cumbersome.
"Oh it's you." I stately plainly as giant wings suddenly sprouted from his back, and the deep reds and purples of the beautiful, spiked leather shone menacingly against his dull, black clothing.
Well. That's new.
Normally the sight would have terrified me, seeing this winged beast, a thick shadow in the darkness. But I just felt calm. Because he was here. But something was wrong.
"Damien?" I asked him curiously as my eyes investigated his new accessory. Man, demon puberty looks rough.
He was crying. Blood. And as he saw me make a move to go to him, he stormed off from one dark corner of the room to another. I could literally feel him warring with his suddenly low vibration in a struggle to not suck the life out of the whole room.
"Damien." I negotiated with him silently to let me see him by the moonlight of the window, but he stayed rooted in the darkness, where he had always tried to convince me he belongs.
His trembling wings suddenly exploded out from his sides, stretching to their full size. It was glorious. I gasped at the shock of the sudden movement, but as he winced in pain and grabbed at his sore ribs, I put my fear aside and took a step towards him. Suddenly, like a trapped animal, Damien spun around wildly and knocked his wing into my bookshelf, hard. A tiny howl could be heard over the whoosh of wind as he shook the pain from his outstretched wing — the hellish hurricane roar echoing in my room much louder than his small yelp of pain. I had to get him to relax or he was going to fall into a darkness I've rarely had success pulling him from on my own.
"Loved One." I tested the waters. "My Love." I cooed in that soft tone I knew he couldn't resist. He relaxed as I was hoping he would, but then a moment later he tensed in blind frustration and pain and took two jerky steps backward. Away from me. But I had to get to him.
As I got closer, arm outstretched, I could more closely see the war going on inside of him. Shaking his head, a pained expression on his face, he silently begged me not to come any closer. I didn't listen. Suddenly his head was shaking violently and a growl started clawing its way from his throat. Voice contorting with glass shattering dissonance, the growl rose to a distorted scream, his own cracking voice lost in the growing crowd as he wailed in anger.
With a rush of wind and a giant groan of flame, he was gone. He's gone.
"Damien!" I wailed into the darkness, spinning in circles like a maniac, begging him to reappear. He's gone.
"Damien!"
He's gone.
Suddenly, there was a small spark in the corner of the room, where the gigantic beast I had just been looking at was reduced to a shaking boy in the corner, his large wings now bent and tucked behind himself.
I've seen him like this before. He was scared. But even more so because he didn't know how to express it.
I sat down in front of him, and criss-crossed my legs, laying my hands in my lap. I waited patiently for him to signal to me that it was ok for there to be movement around him again.
He looked up at me, where streaks of blood had gushed from his eyes and pooled themselves against his skin.
Without even thinking about it, I gently placed my lips against the soft skin of his cheek in an effort to tell him that it was ok, and I wasn't disgusted by it.
When I leaned back and looked at him I knew I had blood still glistening on my lips. Something that would normally drive him mad. He looked at me with an odd mixture of sadness, curiosity, and lust. But his gaze quickly fell, as if this heavy vessel could no longer hold the muscles of the dying soul inside. Oh. Help.
"Damien."
A sharp intake of breath told me he was listening to me. I slowly raised a hand to press against his half-beating heart. He sighed, a small sound that sounded much too weak to be emanating from this "beast".
I timidly lifted my other hand up to caress his cheek. Damien leaned into the touch with such subtlety I would have missed it, if not also for the slight collapse of his chest.
I silently grazed a thumb across his rough chin, the teenager in him beginning to bristle with stubble.
Raising that same shaking hand, every inch of movement a silent request for permission, I found the small bumps on his head where his horns will one day be. His eyes never left mine. He was watching me with such stillness it was almost as if he was about to just fade away into nothingness.
With desperate slowness I watched him, his eyes drifting to my still-raised arm before drifting closed as I brushed his whispy bangs away from his forehead and tucked a piece behind his sharpened ears. His eyes screwed tight painfully as I gently scratched at the nape of his neck: kryptonite.
His eyes opened and tears — human tears — poured out faster than he could suppress them; mingling with the blood and cleaning it off his face in tiny, narrow streaks. He was coming back to me. I purred a quiet sigh of relief.
"My Angel."
A sob escaped his body, while a chorus of howling souls built themselves up from deep within his chest. No. Not again.
"Hey!" I snapped in panic, forcing his eyes open as the flames started to devour his irises. He looked at me with every evil emotion embedded in his scowl before the fire finally left him and the creases in his eyebrows smoothed themselves out. I sat up on my knees, towering over him as I lifted his chin with my forefinger, the touch barely a whisper, and took a shaking breath of my own while I inched closer to him. Thigh against thigh, chest to chest, I settled against his broken form as his shaking hands finally found me, timid, a flight risk.
Staring into his saddened eyes, I forced a sad smile of my own before roughly grabbing his face in my hands, praying to *anyone* that what I was about to say would get through to him.
"You're beautiful" I choked out in a whisper.
His sharp eyes widened, and I no longer felt like I was looking into the eyes of a half mortal.
Here was just a boy, wide-eyed and scared— terrified even — that someone would for once see through to who he truly was when all his life he'd done nothing but feed himself the same sick cycle of lies that he could only ever be a monster.
And here I was. Seeing not a hell-spawn, bred by hatred and raised in violence and anger; but a fallen angel who had been forsaken by those who didn't care enough to not give up on him. Damien is no monster.
Our lips met each other roughly and a whimper pierced the air around us, though I couldn't tell who's voice it had sneaked out of. As his devilish lizard tongue snaked its way into my mouth I was certain I was the one who sounded the moan that followed. As we gently parted ways my sweet boy inhaled a shaky breath and sobbed dryly, as if he had nothing left to give in this world.
"You see me." He spoke for the first time all night.
"My Angel." I repeated running a hand through his hair and pressing our bodies closer together.
Damien smiled in a way that was rare not only for him, but for all of the human race. Sharp teeth glistened in the moonlight and his eyes danced with a light that could only have once come from the heavens.
"I don't scare you." It wasn't a question. He rested his forehead against mine and continued "I'm not a monster to you."
I brushed my lips against his nose, then his temple, his gently closed eyes, and his forehead where his third eye was hidden.
It was a nonverbal confirmation, and he didn't need to hear anything else. He sighed contentedly and grabbed my hand to interlace his fingers with mine. His other hand neatly settled against my heavily beating heart, mimicking my movements from before — proving that I hadn't lost him tonight. Predictably, a devilish smirk crossed his lips as he leaned in.
"Salvame." He whispered huskily as his tongue found it's way into my mouth again. With a groan I accepted, brushing his strong arms lightly with my fingertips. Suddenly, I broke away from him. He blushed as he realized he'd fallen after me like a drunk-in-love school boy.
"Can I touch it?" I asked curiously. He grinned at me mischievously and wiggled his eyebrows haughtily. I slapped him playfully across the shoulder.
"The wings!" I chastised with a giggle. Face falling, he nodded. Most likely expecting me to change my mind and leave him forever.
As he gently disentangled himself from the corner he was huddled in, he franticly darted his eyes everywhere but at me, gingerly unfolding his massive digits one by one. When he rustled his petals at full wingspan, the warm air that always seemed to surround him wrapped itself around my heart and sent a chill through my body. I shivered. His expression hardened in preparation for betrayal. He rolled his shoulders back and stood at full height, now eye-level with me, rolling his neck and cocking his chin up in arrogant self-defense - though his knees were still shaking. He waited with uncomfortable patience and I took the time to really, really look at him.
He was magic.
I rubbed the leather between my fingertips, surprised at the delicacy. My Flower, I'd later call him. I traced thick panels of skin stretched over thin bone and followed the map of veins that lie underneath. My Angel. The texture was surprisingly soft, and as I curled my fingers around a sharp horn at the top, he shivered. My Love.
"Well?" He asked nervously.
"Cool." I stated plainly. This made Damien roar with a laugh that was as high pitched and free as a child's laughter. "Beautiful." I clarified. Laughter dying down, Damien looked me in the eyes and smiled tearfully, the most human depths of his soul vulnerably on display in front of me.
"I'm not a monster when I'm with you."