Summary: After Blitz shows up to yet another meal he wasn't invited to and posts it to Voxtagram, Moxxie learns the true reason Blitz decided to join them that night. Or, a fic in which Blitz and Moxxie talk about Blitz's arrangement with Stolas.

You're choking, you fool

I refuse to smile at the camera as Blitz holds up his hellphone.

"Say decapitaatiooon!"

As the digital shutter clicks, dubstep blares from loudspeakers. Pink strobe lights flutter across neon-taped black surfaces and cheap plastic tables concentrated around a dancefloor. I lower the cup I'd been sipping with a sloshy clunk and send an annoyed glance in Millie's direction. I don't know how our boss found us, but he looks as pleased with himself as ever, typing on his phone.

Why is he here? I ask with daggers in my eyes. Blood boils in my ears – but Millie merely shrugs at our boss's intrusive behavior, unbothered by his stalkerish tendencies. As usual. Uhg.

"Sir, don't you have better things to do than terrorize your employees on their days off?"

"Not really," he slides off casually. He picks up a menu. "Besides, I'm sure you lovebirds get tired of each other's constant company throughout our days off. So I decided to grace you with my extremely precious leisure time. Consider it a mercy presence."

My head screams at his audacity. "As if we need you! Just because you're sad and alone doesn't mean we are, jackass!" I want to shout, but Millie gives me a pacifying stare. She shakes her head.

Fine.

I'll sit back in my chair with my arms crossed and stay silent. This time.

Or I would, if not for the question nagging at the back of my mind.

"Wasn't it enough that you showed up during our anniversary date?" I mumble. I'm not sure if my voice reaches Blitz through the dense atmosphere, but I think I see a slight flinch in his shoulders. If he heard me, he doesn't respond.

We only got off work a few hours ago, so it hasn't been long since we all saw each other. We're still in our work uniforms. Millie and I decided to go sight-seeing in Imp City immediately afterward – and who knows what Blitz's been doing. It's the start of a long weekend, which normally meant Blitz's interruptions were less frequent. My brow tightens at the peevish feeling in my gut caused by his presence now. The loud neon ambience of the dance club we're in deadens my senses – just the kind of thing Millie and I needed after a long day of murdering in the mortal realm. But now that Blitz is here, the mood has changed entirely. No longer mindlessly calming, it's exhaustingly irritating.

How long had he been watching us before he decided to join our dinner? He seems unconcerned about his impunity on our lives as always, denigrating the band playing on the loudspeakers as just "mindless fruity shit" – "What the fuck is this mindless fruity shit?" – exalting his taste in heavy metal, the "objectively superior genre in every way" – "I'm glad I only listen to heavy metal, the objectively superior genre in every way." – and criticizing the "hip-hop tendencies of the masses" – "The hip-hop tendencies of the masses make me wanna barf up my own insides."

OK, Blitz. Whatever you say.

Millie giggles in amusement at his jesting and then a waitress finally takes our orders. By the time Blitz and Millie have started talking about some other topic I have no interest in – Wrath Ring farming techniques or something of that ilk, IDK – I have succeeded in zoning out.

My gaze drifts to the windows, which are rather small and placed high above the dancefloor's tables and chairs. I don't need to crane my neck to see outside (everything is imp-sized in Imp City, after all) from my slumped position. The tops of buildings are visible. Their windows glow faintly with yellow, red, and pink lights. Murkier than the daytime sky, pentagrams and a few stars shine bright crimson in a dark red sea.

I start to wonder whether whatever I think I saw in our boss's behavior earlier – whether avoidance, trepidation, or discomfort – was just a hallucination, when I notice one celestial body contrasts the bloody screen of the rest. The white light of the moon, large and round, is haloed by its own milky luminescence. It's kind of enchanting against what looks like the carnage of the rest.

"…and then I wasn't sure whether she would keel over dead or start mewling like a cat as she skinned those mangy felines alive! Hey Mox, you awake up there?"

The end of Blitz's lengthy narration and his and Millie's high-spirited faces suddenly turned toward me lurches me back to the present. "Huwhat?" I sit up with a start.

"What's wrong, Mox? You afraid of the cats in the living world because of what that human chick called you on the beach that one time? What was it again?"

Blitz glances at Millie, who chimes, "A possum!"

"Yeah, that – you afraid a cat will mistake you for a possum and trim your pubes so thin all the human chicks can see your micro dick?"

As Blitz sniggers at his own joke, grinning mockingly at me (in that way he knows he can get easily under my skin), Millie laughs good-naturedly with him – but I swallow my ire and embarrassment, seeing through our boss's attempts to keep the conversation under his control. Millie probably noticed it long before I did.

"Sir, aren't you forgetting something?"

Disappointed when I ignore his jab, Blitz leans back in his chair. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Moxxie. Millie and I were exchanging stories after a long week of blood and murder while you're daydreaming in the infernal sky. Have our long nights of sneaking around in the mortal world fucked with your sense of time or something?"

"I mean, sir, isn't there a certain work obligation you're normally fulfilling at this time? Every month? Whenever we have a long weekend?" I don't know how much more obvious I can make it without saying it explicitly – which I'd rather not.

"What, you mean for the book?" Blitz's voice is light and monotonous. "Yeah, Stolas is sick this time, so I don't need to go over."

"The prince is sick?" I repeat, incredulous. It's hard to catch the boss's inflexion given the loudness of the environment, but the way he says the crown prince's name – Stoh-las– is… different this time. As if it's difficult to fit in his mouth.

"That's what I said," Blitz retorts, planting a hand on the table. "Did I fucking stutter?"

Jovial and mocking a moment ago, now, Blitz is genuinely pissed off. Did I poke some kind of wound? My head spins with thoughts surrounding the Goetian prince and what Blitz is doing for I.M.P. I can't help but wonder if something happened. Blitz isn't the kind of person to let his sex life affect his daily mood – at least, not since I've known him. What in Hell…?

"Aaaanyway," Blitz chaunts with a roll of his eyes, filling the awkward silence between us – aside from the loud-as-fuck music, of course. "After this I was thinking we could go check out the store down the street. They might be selling the special collection of horse knickknacks I was looking for, so…"

I barely hear the rest of what he says. I'm baffled by his nonchalance. What our boss decides to do for I.M.P. when I'm not looking isn't any concern of mine (as long as Millie and I still have a job) – and Blitz's choices aren't something I'll ever understand – but whenever he's spoken about his relationship with the prince in the past it was always with a blunt contempt – a contempt that had eased over the months – but still, he usually regarded their relationship with a business-like impudence whenever he had to mention it. (That's completely fine by me.) Now, it's as if their arrangement was something to avoid altogether.

That usually only meant one thing.

Once the food shows up, Millie squeals in excitement and I watch Blitz calmly avoid me as we eat. Picking at ribs and fries, a curious feeling settles itself in the basin of my stomach; it's thick and congealing, rolling around like a cannonball.

I can't tell whether it's annoyance or concern, but it's probably both. I feel annoyance at my concern – for him. Our boss, who won't leave us alone.

I want to scream when I remember what he said at Ozzie's – how he embarrassingly tried to defend Millie and I in front of everyone – after I'd explicitly told him he wasn't invited,and we'd already been the laughingstock of the entire Ring of Lust. Regardless of the reason for his presence tonight, I won't condone his constant surveillance or his opinions about Millie and I, but…

I guess I feel indebted to him.

Striker was right about one thing (the scumbag). Without Blitz, I would've had to find a boring office job. Millie would've been left in the streets of Imp City, unable to find employment, or become the assassin of some twisted Overlord who would have thrown her away the moment they didn't need her anymore. It is impressive, this little business we have, even if we're a fucking mess more than half of the time.

Would Millie and I have met if not for him?

…I don't know, but Blitz is putting himself in a tricky position by having this relationship with the prince, whatever it is. Not just for himself, but for all of us.

As much as I hate him, I also can't.

None of us are feeling the vibes of the dancefloor after a long week, so once the bill has been paid, Blitz and I wait outside for Millie as she visits the restroom. Drunkards smash bottles and yell curses up and down the streets. The air feels thick and heavy. A grey haze obscures the sky, including the moon, and it feels musty, as it always does down here.

"You're only here because the prince canceled on you last second, aren't you?"

Blitz rolls his eyes. "Uhg, what's with you tonight?"

"No, what's with you?!" I shout at him. "You're always showing up at Millie's and my outings uninvited!"

"So what?"

"Even if the prince is sick, you could've gone to see him! It has to just be an excuse. I don't care if you're my boss, I –!"

"Can we drop this already?" Blitz interrupts. "I'd rather not see that bird-mouth if I don't have to. That's all there is to it. I.M.P. still has the book for another month, so it's fine."

Millie returns from the bathroom, but at this point I can't stop myself. I completely let go of the railing.

"Blitz, I know you well enough to know you wouldn't hesitate to find a way out of your arrangement with the prince if that's what you really wanted. What the fuck is going on? You've been selling yourself out to keep I.M.P. in business since the beginning and put up with the prince's harassment as if it doesn't bother you, when we're on outings that he suggested. And now you're telling me it's none of my business that you're showing up uninvited on my night off – again – because your relationship with the prince is Satan knows fuck-all where. As IF this isn't affecting us too! What the fuck?!"

My hands are clenched at my sides, pulse racing. My chest heaves. Millie places her hands on my shoulders to calm me but I can hardly feel it right now. Other demons glance in our direction. There are tears in my eyes as I wait for Blitz's answer, searching his face.

But I get none.

Feeling cornered, Blitz's expression is a mishmash of conflict that wants to become anger, his teeth showing – yet it can't. He just stands there like a dumbass, looking scared, trying to figure me out.

I tear my face away. Crumbs, here I am crying over the man that's verbally assaulted me many times and embarrassed me in public – only to embarrass myself now for his sake, something I've never done before (on purpose). I expect some kind of teasing remark at my tears, but he remains stupefied.

Millie asks, "Blitz, are you sure this arrangement with the prince is still a good idea?"

I steal a glance between fingers and my tears to see Blitz's mask of confusion focused on the pavement.

"The prince didn't have to go out of his way to save us, you know." I'm not sure what I'm trying to accomplish by saying this. There isn't much to my suspicion. I almost didn't even notice when Blitz lost it in front of Striker – he wasn't the type of guy to get bashful when talking about others' sex lives, or even his own. He only did when it came to his feelings.

After what feels like eternity, Blitz lets out a long and exasperated sigh. "What do you two want me to say here? We can't do our job without Stolas' book, so there's no way in Hell I'm… I can't –" He stops dead. I can already see part of what he's thinking. Going back to square one as a jester or something adjacent isn't even a possibility in his mind. There's something else, though. Something he can't say. "It's nothing you need to worry about. 'Kay? I've got it under control."

"Have you tried talking to him about it?" I say.

Blitz is confused. "Whad'you mean?"

"To the prince. About the arrangement," Millie clarifies.

"What are you even saying?" He's getting irritated again.

I don't know for certain, but from my impression, Prince Stolas might be the kind of demon who would be open to discussions about feelings. "Sir, he's a Goetian prince, but –"

Blitz grips his forehead with one hand. "Goddammit, I know! I don't know what you two are trying to do with this conversation. I can't just cut off the arrangement with Stolas!"

He gesticulates emphatically. Clearly, I've touched a nerve. I shake my head. "That's not what we're saying, sir. Are you at least happy when you're around him?"

Millie adds sympathetically, "You seem a little bummed out he didn't ask you out tonight."

This question causes a myriad of emotions to cross over our boss's face. For a moment, I think he might actually cry. Then there's a flash of anger and annoyance – with a touch of despair.

"He doesn't give a shit about me, okay?!"

Failing to answer my question, Blitz is quickly overwhelmed by emotion and turns away. I imagine there's something he doesn't want us to see.

At this point, I don't know what to do. Even though Blitz clearly doesn't care about our privacy, I don't envy his position. Anything more I could ask might be too invasive – and I'm not sure I would want to know, anyway.

I don't know what their relationship is like. When I'm looking, the prince is intimidating to say the least, but I'm not sure he means to be that way. There are plenty of demons who wouldn't hesitate to manipulate I.M.P. to carry out their whims in the mortal realm if they could, yet the prince lets us keep the book the majority of the time, only asking for it back a few days of the month.

I don't know… whether our boss has to put up with constant sexual harassment outside of normal work hours. What is their relationship like other than the prince's over flirtatiousness? I don't know.

I didn't even know how we acquired the Grimoire until Loona said the prince called our office one day. And I certainly didn't catch on to the fact they were still seeing each other until Millie told me – after Blitz made up some bullshit excuse about why we got a few days off every month.

"It's because Blitz is seeing his prince," Millie had told me later when I expressed my doubts about his answer.

"'His prince'? You mean like the one we took to Loo Loo Land? Who called our office? Who –?!"

"Yes honey, the Goetian prince. Who else would Blitz put up with for so long?"

I hadn't kept it in mind much (whatever relationship they had), despite that conversation – until the Harvest Moon Festival, when Blitz and I had to defend the prince's life. And not soon after, he defended ours. I could be wrong, but I couldn't recall Blitz putting up with anyone else's presence for nearly as long if he wasn't actively harassing them.

But the fact remains that Prince Stolas is just that. A Goetian prince of Hell…

A part of me thinks I should be more worried about the consequences if the prince ever decided to retract his favors – for a time after learning why we had the Grimoire, I was. Because maybe Blitz just hides it well, the tightrope he walks to keep I.M.P. in business and us alive – but the moment I met Prince Stolas, I didn't feel the same fear or dread as when I've seen other Hell royalty up close or from afar.

"You shouldn't take on this responsibility by yourself," I say, surprising myself. Blitz doesn't move. "Please forgive me for saying so, sir, but if Prince Stolas wanted to get rid of us, I think he would have done it long before now. I just wish you trusted Millie and I more, and could give us some space sometimes."

Blitz remains silent, facing away with his arms crossed.

"I am grateful for what you've done for us," I go on. Millie watches me, and even though he hardly moves, I can tell Blitz is listening too.

I just want you to be happy. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Have a good night, Blitz."

Millie on my arm, I turn and head in the direction of home. I hear his boots scuff against the pavement and stop. Millie glances back, but I press on.

For once, he doesn't try to follow us home.

Hoooo I think I should stop editing this and post it already. This was a lot harder to write than I expected. But I guess I should have expected it since the last time these two idiots spoke to each other honestly they were high as balls. I'm still dying for more Stolitz content / the resolution, what can I say~?

Been playing around with first-person narration these last few fics. I guess this is the second installment in my series of introspective first-person Helluva Boss fics, lol. Perhaps I'll do Millie, Loona, or Stolas is next. Let me know what you think below~?