You can do better than that loser.
The words were scrawled on the bathroom mirror in what she knew was definitely blood. The writing was big and bold, so much so that the ‘loser’ trailed off onto the tiles beneath. Astra marched forward and swiped at the mocking words, ignoring the overpowering coppery stench. She glared at her reflection and lamented the streaked remnants of the liquid eyeliner she’d so painstakingly applied hours before.
“Fuck you, Faebar,” she hissed, “Think I could’ve worked that one out for myself.”
She grabbed a makeup wipe and began scrubbing at her face as silent tears continued to fall. Seriously, this was the last time she went on a date. He’d kissed that woman right in front of her, dammit! She shuddered, the humiliation and hurt suddenly wracking her body with choked sobs. Faebar was right. Kevin was a loser. A good-for-nothing, fucking loser. Speaking of Faebar…
“And what did I tell you about writing in blood, you little creep?” she wailed, “I got you freaking marker pens for crying out loud!”
She wrenched the bathrobe from its hook and stuffed her arms through the sleeves, uncaring of the fact that she was still dressed to the nines…besides, there was no way in hell – she suppressed a small smile at her choice of phrase – that she was undressing in front of Faebar, her demon protector. Na-ah. Nooooo waaaay hoooosay.
Astra turned and padded into the bedroom behind her. There was a sudden soft thump as something fell to the floor. She glanced down and saw a red marker pen she’d bought months ago, a pen that Faebar never used as he apparently “had a reputation to maintain” around his demon brethren. She stared at the pen, dumbfounded. Was he that affected by her tears? He hated marker pens, opting to write in “the blood of the innocents” which was code for “blood I stole from the butcher shop because I’m not actually as mean as I make out.” Sure, Faebar was never unkind and they did have laugh… but man did that demon like to tease and torment her with his trickery. She inched forward and reached for the handheld mirror on the dresser. A mirror that was now face down.
She flipped it, unsure of what she’d find.
The smiley face had mismatched horns and a lone fang. Beneath the single word was a single question.
All in red marker pen. She nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her free hand.
“But no horrors this time,” she sniffed.
There was a whoosh of warm air as the portal opened. Before she had even looked up, a pair of strong arms had locked around her and a gentle kiss was pressed against her hair.
“Disney then,” he chuckled, “Anything to see you happy.”
Astra closed her eyes and wrapped her own arms around his waist.
“Ooo mind your pals aren’t listening,” she said, “Don’t want to tarnish your street cred.”
“Hmph,” he huffed, his breath warm against her temple, “Means to an end, sweetheart. No fun teasing a crying woman. Even demons have standards.”
Astra cast her mind back to the time he’d bought her ice cream when she’d had her tonsils out. To the time when he’d snuggled with her amid a pile of blankets when she’d had a cold. To the time she’d had a bad shift at work and come home to find a Downton Abbey boxset and bottle of vintage wine on the coffee table. To the time he’d teleported her to Italy so she could try authentic gelato. To the time…she grinned, not needing anymore proof.
“Keep telling yourself that, Faebar.”
I think these guys are gonna need a sequel.