After those little sessions of ours, Nero would go into a near catatonic state, lying on the bed, curled up like a fetus in the womb. This wouldn't last for very long as he would snap out of it in an hour or so. I will admit that I still don't know why he does that, I'm not for certain if it is intentional or not. Perhaps that's his way of coping with my particular interest in him, as I'm sure no other had shown him before, man or demon, and certainly not an abomination like that damned half-breed bastard.

I remember the very first time I had shown Nero attention and made my intentions obvious, it was very different, for I was unprepared and he had put up a fight. I still have the faint scars on my person where he had attempted to snap my neck with that devil bringer of his, but I had put a quick stop to that, it was very simple. I would like to go into detail, but I'll save that story for another night, I need my blood for my cerebrum as opposed to my masculine organ, thank you very much.

As I headed downstairs I noticed that my trousers were still undone, and buttoned them before heading into the kitchen to wash my hands. I stepped to the sink and turned on the water, cleaning them with soap and warm water, getting under my fingernails to scrape away the dried blood. I then turned my attention towards the coffee maker that had been rarely used until I got here.

I leaned against the counter, flexing my fingers, smiling gently as the black liquid bubbled into the pot, filling the air with its aroma.

I paused when I heard the sound of a door opening on the second floor, and brought my gaze up towards the ceiling, listening intently. I heard the sound of his footsteps, soft footsteps that staggered down the steps, followed by a few murmured curses, like he knew that I was listening and didn't want me to hear.

I smirked, crossing my arms over my chest as Nero came into view; he was clutching the soiled bed sheets and limping slightly, doing his best to hide it. He was dressed sloppily in a loose-fit pair of grey sweat pants, and had no shirt on. He seemed to be heading to the washroom to clean the sheets, as that was his bed that we were together in after all.

Needless to say I was a bit surprised to see him, as I've grown so accustomed to him just lying wherever it is I leave him for at least an hour or so. Maybe he's getting used to my treatment of him; if that's the case, I'll have to change that. "Hello Nero." I purred, trying to soften my voice after our little get-together.

"Don't talk to me…" he snarled through clenched teeth, his voice was broken and trying to mend itself, to sound hostile and defiant, but even then it was so thin I could snap it in two if it were tangible. I shrugged my shoulders as I smiled kindly at him, letting him know that no matter what tone he took with me, it would not change my good mood.

He continued to glower at me even as I turned my back to him to pour myself a cup of coffee, taking a few sips of the scalding hot liquid, but it didn't bother me.

Without breathing another word, Nero turned and headed into the washroom. My red eyes followed his movements, that faltering limp that he tried so very hard to hide, probably not wanting to show that I had hurt him so badly in such an intimate place. Or maybe he thought that if I saw him limp it would give me some form of satisfaction, and it does.

He hasn't even taken a shower yet either, I could tell that by the greasy stain blossoming on the seat of his pants, getting a little bigger with each step he took. He limped out of my view, and I heard the door to the washroom opening and closing.

I set my mug down on the counter and walked out of the kitchen, heading towards the washroom. I opened the door to a slit and peered inside, watching Nero fumble with the washing machine. He crammed the soiled sheets into its mouth before taking the cap off a large container of bleach, soaking the fabric until the odor was so strong that it overpowered any taste I had in my mouth. He closed the door to the washing machine and turned it on before taking a step back, wrapping his arms around his body, shivering as if he were cold.

I entered the room, and he was either too preoccupied with the machine to pay me any mind or he simply did not realize that I was there. It seemed to be the latter as he let out a soft gasp as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He tried to turn his head away but I grabbed his chin, holding him in place as I leaned in and pinched his earlobe between my teeth, causing him to shudder violently in my arms, blue eyes fluttering shut.

"St-stop…stop. Please." The weak aggression he had addressed me with before had died away like it always does, leaving him whimpering as he tried to pry my hands from his body.

At first I could not understand for the life of me why Nero hardly ever fought back.

He was more than capable of doing so. He owned a revolver and that broad sword, and from the few fights I've seen him in, he's very skilled with them both, and he's especially creative with that little trick up his sleeve. He is at least partially human; however, if he was more or less than that half-bred devil hunter then I'm not so sure.

From my understanding, when it comes to two different bloodlines intermingling with each other, there are going to be some conflicts, as one will be stronger and try to overpower the other. You know, dominant genes and what-not. In this case, what I think keeps him from fighting me off and outright defying my advances is his devil's blood.

Demons, at the most basic level, especially young ones like Nero, wish to become mates to older, stronger demons, for protection and to not get eaten, although for someone like him these urges would more than likely be subconscious.

In other words, Nero's devil's blood is making him open himself up to me, probably because I smell similar to that mongrel son of a bitch that he seems so fond of. And since he does not understand this, he hates himself for it.

Also, in all honesty, both demons and humans are all just petty animals right down to the very core, with self-preservation being one of the most basic needs of all living things.

I couldn't help but grin as I turned him around to face me, pushing him up against the washing machine. He hung his head to avoid looking at me, bringing his devils arm up to my chest in a wasted attempt to push me away. I grabbed his demon arm, which flashed brightly when I touched it, holding it in my hand, running my thumb over the rough reptilian hide.

Nero sank his teeth into his bottom lip as I looked intently at the light in his arm, watching it shine brilliantly like a sapphire flare. He seemed surprised to say the least, but dared not to move, his human hand clutching at the edge of the machine.

"How'd you get this arm?" I questioned as I ran my fingers down his hand and up his wrist, tracing the glimmering trail of light the way I would follow a vein under the skin. Nero swallowed uncomfortably,

"You don't know?" he murmured, disbelieving, watching every move I made with my hand.

"I don't know because you never told me." I remarked as I took my hand away, gazing in hidden fascination as the light died down to a soft flicker of a candle. Nero scoffed.

"A fight, I got it in a fight. I was protecting…someone. The demon was about to get her in the face but I got in the way, it got my arm instead. Next thing I know, this happens." He flexed the fingers of his appendage.

"Really? And how did you feel about that?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. He looked up at me with a twisted expression, teeth gnashed together, the claws of his demon arm clenching together in a tight fist.

"What are you, my fucking therapist?" He snarled. I could tell now that it was a sensitive subject, but I did not appreciate his tone, at all.

Nero cried out in shock as my hand shot out and snatched him by his human wrist, yanking him towards me, wrapping my arm around his shoulders to keep him in place. He tried to pull away until he felt my teeth brush up against the sensitive skin on his exposed throat. I could feel his heart beating rapidly as I held him close to my chest in a position that may have looked loving to outside spectators ignorant of the situation.

"Nero…" I sighed heavily into his neck, my breath feeling hot against his skin. "I only asked you a simple question; there is no need for words like that." The boy was silent, flinching as I pressed my lips against his jugular vein. "No need at all…" I whispered.

He jerked when the loud buzzer went off and the washing machine shuttered to a halt. I looked at the now inert device, "You have some laundry to do." I sighed as I ran my fingers through his hair before letting him go.

He staggered away from me until his back met uncomfortably with the washing machine, hiding his devil arm behind his back, his human hand pressed hard against the spot on his neck where I had kissed him, acting as if I had bitten him hard enough to break the skin and was trying to stop the flow of blood.

He was still in that same position even when I turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.