I drag myself out of bed and make my way over to the door which he previously left from a few minutes ago. Slowly I open the door to see him walking down the hall with a tea in his hand, “Oh, so it moves huh?” He jokes as he walks up to me handing me the tea. I stare at him before looking at the tea. I wonder if he poisoned it or something… “Your eyes are really puffy this morning.” He points out causing me to close my eyes and look away.
“Every girl wants to get up and get told that by a male.” I joke as I take a sip of the tea.
He shrugs as walks passed me and into my room heading for my closet, “But, you should know, I’m no ordinary male.” Those words send shivers down my spine reminding me I made a deal with a demon. That still scares me. I hum in response, “So what were you planning on wearing?” He asks as he holds up a blue blouse from my draw.
I turn around and look at him and the blouse, “do you think my black jeans would look good with that?” I ask as I tilt my head to the side.
He looks at the jeans folded in my cupboard, “also with your black heals and black coat that is hanging behind the front door?” He asks himself, completely ignoring me and going with his own instincts, “Yeah… That makes her look mysterious yet businessy…” He trails off as he lays it on the bed.
“Businessy?” I question as I take another sip of my tea watching him intensely. His eyes look away from the shirt and find their way to me, but, he doesn’t move his head, “And put a shirt on for god’s sake.” I groan as I turn around heading down the hallway. Why does a demon have to be the good guy?
“Where are you going? You need to get dressed.” He calls causing me to stop in my tracks. Ugh, I wish there was a device where I didn’t have to get changed myself. I could stand in the device and I would be changed in an instant. Quickly I spin back on my heels and walk back into the room to see him wearing a black shirt.
“You laid it out, you can leave now.” I shrug as I hand him my tea, picking up the shirt. I look at him to see him take a sip of it, “Seriously? Go wait outside the room.” I groan in annoyance as I peel my shirt off my body pulling the blue blouse on. When I look back to him, he’s already out the door, shutting it softly. Using his speed yet again to get away from me. Idiot.
After throwing my clothes on, I sit on my bed slipping my feet into my black heels. I love having a demon that actually likes fashion, there was one time I actually thought he was gay because of how much he was fussing over my clothes, ‘that scarf doesn’t mach.’ ‘Those socks have to be black to go with those shoes.’ ‘You need a red shirt with those pants.’ I giggle to myself as I look back at the time, 7:30am. Even though he laid out my clothes, I still managed to take half an hour. If I’m being honest, all I do is sit on my bed for about twenty minutes and use the other ten minutes actually getting dressed, it’s nice having the quiet to yourself without anyone butting in because they think your changing. Quite genius I think. Sluggishly I stand up and make my way over to the bathroom to do my make-up and my usual morning routine. I stare at myself in the mirror as I reach my hand up and pull at my right cheek poking my tongue out, if I can’t laugh at myself, than how can I accept myself? I laugh as I look down grabbing my foundation.
“What were you doing?” Mika’s voice is heard causing me to jump five feet in the air, even out of my skin.
I stand up and rest my hand on the sink as I turn my head to him, my right hand on my chest, “How long were you standing there?” I ask.
“Enough to see you pulling your cheek and laughing at yourself.” He shrugs as he places my tea on the sink. My cheeks grow red as I look away from him. Wait a minute, why didn’t I see him in the mirror? I snap my head up and look in the mirror unable to see him. I quickly look at him then the mirror to clarify his existence. I go to speak, but, he cuts me off, “You can’t see a demon in a mirror, the same as an angel.” He says softly as he walks over to me looking into the mirror. I look away from him and to the mirror. He’s right. I can’t see him. Slowly I reach up and pull at his cheek to see if it looks weird if I grab something not reflecting in the mirror, “What are you doing?” He asks as he just stands there and takes it.
“I wanted to see if it looked weird on my behalf.” I laugh as I pull my hand away slowly, a little disappointed with the outcome.
He doesn’t move his head, but, I can almost swear he’s looking at me in the mirror, “Why do people have an obsession with grabbing people’s faces?” He asks as he puts his hand on his cheek rubbing it slightly from my pinch.
I turn away from him and put some foundation on the brush and start applying it to my face, “Well…” I start, but, I’m not sure what to say. Normal people don’t exactly grab others faces.
“Can I do it?” He asks randomly as he looks down at me.
I furrow my eye brows and lean into the mirror to make sure I apply it evenly, “Do what? Grab someone’s face?” I ask completely confused and slightly amused with his question. Why does he want to grab someone’s face?
He laughs slightly and shakes his head, “No. Do your make-up?” He asks causing me to stop my hand actions and turn my head to him.
I look down at the brush in my hands and back up at him who is staring at me almost pleading, “Can you even do it?” I ask as I hesitantly hand him the brush.
He grabs hold of it quite quickly and steps forwards smiling, “I think so. Mamma used to get me to do her make-up and choose her clothes all the time.” He tilts his head to the side and brushes my forehead, holding my head up by holding my chin. Well, I guess I know why he is so good at clothes choosing.
“Mamma?” I ask as I furrow my eye brows once again, but, he pokes my frown lines making me stop furrowing my eyebrows allowing him to continue applying it.
He hums in response, “All angels and demons were someone before they died, but, if so called God, doesn’t want you or loses to Hades, the soul is given to Hades. Which in my case, he lost.” He speaks freely. This doesn’t seem to faze him at all as he explains this to me. Why doesn’t this at least hit a soft spot?
Slowly he puts down the brush and picks up my power applying it neatly, “So, where’s mamma now?” I ask trying not to laugh at the way he refers to his mum.
He stops moving his hand and stares blankly ahead, “She’s dead.” He mumbles as he regains himself continuing to apply to the power removing his hand from my chin.
My facial expression lays blank, “I’m sorry…” I mumble as he lifts my head up allowing himself to put the make-up on my neck.
He shakes his head and grabs the mascara, “its fine. She’s in purgatory.” His words come out harsh as he opens the mascara applying the first coat, “God took one look at her life and said he didn’t want her and asked for her to be put there.” He swallows hard and for the first time, I look at his arms trying to help with the mascara only to see scars all over them. I’m so oblivious to these types of things. How can I miss them?
I reach my hands up and grab hold of his arm tracing the deepest scar, “Mamma?” I ask as I put the pieces together. He looks down faintly and back to my eyes giving me a small hum in response, “she hurt you a lot didn’t she?” I ask as I drop my hands back down. Hesitantly he pulls his hands away and puts the mascara away obviously done with my eyes.
“Uh, um… Yeah, I don’t exactly like talking about my back story. It’s one thing angels nor demons will talk about if they can avoid it.” He speaks softly as he picks up the blush applying a light layer of it along my cheek bones.
I widen my eyes and open my mouth as my words get caught in my throat, “Oh, y-yeah. Of course!” I yelp and he pulls away the blush and looks at my face and his work.
“I can’t do lips… I never learnt.” He chuckles slightly as he puts down my blush. I smile slightly and turn away from him and look in the mirror. Whoa, he is actually amazing at this. If what he told me is true, then I’m guessing he had to learn otherwise he was hurt if it wasn’t good enough.
“That’s fine.” I continue to smile as I pick up my lipstick. Slowly I look back at him who is slightly trembling. What the hell? Demons don’t get scared, let alone shake, “You’re the first demon I’ve heard of who shakes.” I joke trying to calm him down.
I see him in the corner of my eye as I apply my lipstick, lift up his hands and look at them, “I’m not even scared, I think this just happens when I bring up memories. I don’t feel affected in anyway talking about this, but, it’s still not ideal to talk about.” He says as he turns away and walks out the bathroom.
“Okay, good.” I simply speak allowing him to have some space. I know that touched on a soft spot, but, I didn’t know demons had that side. I guess it’s one of the qualities of summoning a demon. Should have read the terms and conditions.