It should have been no surprise to Stolas that Blitzø acted the way that he did. He knew that now. The signs had always been there, yet he chose to ignore them. He needed not have spent so long agonising over whether he felt the same. He needed not have gone through such an effort to convince him to stay of his own free will.

He has always been a selfish, inconsiderate, and arrogant motherfucker who never had any interest in him.

At least, that is what he kept telling himself. But now the effects of the alcohol were wearing off, that statement was beginning to look less black and white and more like a multi-coloured mess of nuance. What he was certain of, however, is that he just wanted someone to want him. Someone to want his company. To want him with them.

"So, do you want to come with me?" The incubus in front of him asked, his hand outstretched, awaiting Stolas's. He gestures towards the bedroom upstairs with a magenta heart spray-painted on the door, garish neon lights spilling out.

I know what he wants. But this does not feel like the right place, nor the time. Stolas thought. Besides, I do not need another relationship that is based on sex. "Thank you for your offer, but I'm going to have to decline. We hardly know each other."

The incubus tilted his head quizzically before his already pink cheeks turned impossibly pinker. "Oh, no. No, I wasn't suggesting that. I thought you might want to go somewhere a little more private to chat? It's getting a bit… messy in here." Indeed, half of the attendees who remained were wasted beyond all consolation, screaming and throwing drinks and other items out of heartbreak.

Upon realisng his misunderstanding, a blush appeared on Stolas's cheeks also. "Ah, yes, yes. Sorry. Regardless, I really think I should be heading off now."

"Okay, sure." The incubus seems a little disappointed but shrugs it off. "Can I get your number, at least?"

Stolas pondered the question for a moment. A guy who actually wanted to get to know him? The two of them had so much fun together tonight, and it had felt so glorious to forget everything for an hour or two. But he knew that he was not in the headspace for this at the moment. He was still tipsy and it occurred to him that he did not even know this incubus's name…

Stolas gave a small smile and shook his head. "I don't think so, I am sorry. I'm just getting over a break-up and-"

"Hey, no need to explain, Stolas. You're at this party for the first time. That kind of speaks for itself. But if you need to talk about it, then you are definitely in the right place."

The Goetia gave his thanks before making his exit. He made a mental note to thank Verosika later as a splitting pain was beginning to take residence within his head. Thank yous and wallowing could wait.

XXXXXXX

By the time Stolas had dragged himself back home, it was too late for anyone to be out, but too early for dawn to brake. He was engulfed in the unsettling silence of the night, made eerier by the silence of an empty palace. He was alone tonight. All alone.

That's when he broke down, a strangled sob erupting from his throat as he sank to the floor. His cries quickly became less strangled and more violent. He felt pathetic, but he couldn't stop. Blitzø had come to find him tonight, had given him a sincere apology, had wanted to talk... and Stolas had been too fucking drunk for that to register in his brain. He was wallowing in his loneliness when he'd told Blitzø to go away and denied the offer of ... the incubus whose name Stolas could not remember for the life of him, to talk.

He contemplated this. And then Octavia and by default Stella. And God fucking damn it, why was he never satisfied with the relationships that he had? Why did he have to go and mess them all up? It felt like he was losing a hold on everyone in his life, his family was broken and his love/sex life was now non-existent.

He was overcome with an aching desperation to re-evaluate everything and fix it all when his vision began to falter, the room shaking in time with the pounding in his head.

Sleep. Sleep first. Soul-searching could wait until tomorrow.

XXXXXXX

Stolas hadn't really got around to doing that soul-searching. Everything about the situation with Blitzø was too painful right now. Besides, his favourite soap operas just kept getting better and better and he figured that they would be his new priority. The drama on the screen was much more fun and much less painful than the drama in his own life.

One morning – or maybe afternoon, who knew – Stolas was particularly unmotivated to leave his bedroom and he'd managed to get through to season 3 of a soap that he had started that week. Admittedly, this season had dragged thus far, but the plot had just started to thicken, so he wasn't much impressed when the screen turned to black.

Stolas blinked a few times and whipped his head around in search of the cause of this interruption. Octavia was standing next to the television, looking more unimpressed than him. He hadn't even noticed her enter his quarters.

"Dad, I love you, but you can't keep doing this." Octavia's voice had its usual dryness, but it was mixed with a hint of concern.

"Doing what?" Stolas was genuinely puzzled. "I'm not doing anything."

His daughter sighed. "Yeah, I know, that's the problem." She couldn't meet his eyes as she said it.

Stolas winced. He looked around his room to see 3 or 4 empty tubs of ice-cream on the floor, before looking down at the same silk robe he had been wearing for several days. It was a tragically cliche break-up aftermath.

"I'm sorry, my little star, you're right." The owl began to manoeuvre himself off of his chaise-lounge. "I'm not being a very good Dad. In fact, I haven't been for a long time."

Octavia shook her head. "No, Dad-".

"No, no." Stolas interrupted. "I'm just telling the truth. And I need to take accountability, starting today. I need to stop being so caught up in my heartbreak and with my anger with your mother and start focusing on you."

He made his way over to Octavia and wrapped his long arms around her shoulders. Octavia nuzzled in to her father, and let out a small chirp.

"I love you, Dad."

" I love you too, Via."

And he really did love her. More than the stars loved to shine. But that did not mean that he had not hurt her. And that stayed with him all day. Not enough to ruin the perfect father-daughter day that spilled into the next morning – hours of painting nails, baking, stargazing, and listening to each other's wildly different music tastes – but it lingered in the back of his mind.

After he tucked in a sleeping Octavia into bed, he caught sight of a years old Lu-Lu Land hat tucked away behind a sofa cushion. He smiled as he picked it up and admired it; it had such a peculiar charm to it. He reminisced about all of the trips he and a little Via had taken to the theme park, her smile and laughter seemed endless and were quite possibly the most magical thing he had ever witnessed.

The wistful grin on his face faltered as he remembered the time that he had asked Blitzø to accompany them to the park. He shouldn't have asked him to come. It was unfair on Octavia, especially so soon after the affair. He chastised himself for not considering that at the time. But there was something else that he was now realising as he reflected on that day. He remembered how he had spoken to Blitzø. He remembered Blitzø's comments on the Full Moon about Stolas looking down on him.

"Sound fair, my little Imp?"

"As shocking as it may seem, Blitzy, my Grimoire is actually incredibly important, and it isn't supposed to be lent out to itty bitty imps like yourself."

"Who dares threaten my impish, little plaything?"

He could see why Blitzø had felt that way.

No, there was no 'seeing why'. Stolas could see that he had treated Blitzø like he was lesser... and it was not an isolated incident. Worst of all, Stolas realised that he might have been projecting his own fucked up sexual experiences onto Blitzø without realising it. He didn't really see him as inferior, of course, but throughout Stolas's relationship with Stella, all she had ever done was talk down to him – and it certainly wasn't a romantic relationship in any capacity, it was unfortunately purely one of sex. Perhaps those two concepts had gotten merged in Stolas's mind somewhere along the way.

The demon Prince returned the hat to where he found it on the floor. He couldn't bear to think more on that day, or about his treatment of Blitzø. As he straightened up, he rose to the eye line of Octavia's large hanging mirror, staring at his reflection and clenching his fists.

"Motherfucker."