Runaway Devil
21

Balan was groggily getting up upon our return. He shook his body, releasing the tension, and yawned. He stretched like he did every morning, licking his jowls. He promptly sat and waited for me.

When he saw the large figure walking next to me, he stood with his hackles raised. He never forgot a scent, and he certainly remembered having a knife thrown at him. He growled, his rough warning echoed throughout the empty parking lot.

Balan, heel. Calm. Stay Guarded

He huffed and approached us slowly, positioning himself between me and the angel. His head was lowered, watching the angel's every move. Allowing Balan to take up a protective role, I lifted my bags and started for the door. Looked like I wasn't leaving just yet. Why can't anything be easy? Ever?

The angel followed close behind, all the way to my apartment. I swung the door open, dropped my bags, and rolled my neck. Being around an angel this long made me tense. He stood in the doorway, filling it almost completely, looking at me expectantly.

"I'm not inviting you in."

He raised his brow and walked in anyway. It was a small challenge that I didn't have the energy to confront at that moment. My clock on the microwave read four fifteen, but the clock on the stove read five. I rubbed my forehead, a weak attempt to soften my headache. With my eyes still scrunched closed, I heard the angel's booted footsteps coming towards me. They were unhurried, passive, almost curious, and experimental steps.

Balan jumped forward, keeping him at bay with a fierce warning, likely his last.

Balan, calm.

Balan looked up at me from his defensive position, as if to verify my command. I scratched his neck, thanking him for protecting me, but reassuring him that I didn't need it. The angel took another cautious step and looked at me with a question in his eyes.

"The fuck you looking at, angel?" I was in no mood to pick up where we left off. Today was over, I was already checked out. He rolled his eyes and stood in front of me, slowly raising his hands to my face.

I leaned away, what the fuck was he doing? "Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you." He used my words from earlier with a smirk. He held my face and took a deep breath. His fingers reached around my head, cradling it in strong, sturdy hands. The natural planes on his face began to glow softly, elongating and sharpen the shadows. His face looked like it was carved from marble. His eyes started to glow a warm orange and his hands emitted heat.

"What-?" He cut my question off with a harsh shush. Did he really just shush me? His palms started to get hotter, it felt like my face was right next to a fire that was slowly growing. The heat sent a shiver down my neck, my eyes rolling closed. It felt like warm honey was being poured over my head, encapsulating everything in a protective heat barrier.

My pounding head, previously visibly throbbing, started to calm. I gasped softly, my whole body relaxing. I grasped his thick wrists and my eyes remained closed as his heat receded. I found my mouth ajar, my breathing slow, and my mind tranquil. The weight sitting on my mind was lifted. I peeled my eyes open and felt a disoriented peace. I looked up at the angel, his eyes still a burnt orange.

"What did you do?" My voice sounded foreign to my ears. It sounded at peace, and tired. He starred at me with his intense eyes, his gaze burning my skin. He stood inches away, I could feel the residual heat from his chest on my face.

"Come on, you need rest," He said, gently guiding me down the hall. His voice was soft and deep, like a caretaker. There was tenderness in it that was new to me. Balan followed, watching him closely. I crawled onto the naked mattress, remembering my escape plan. I couldn't be bothered at that moment. We would worry about that after a nap.

The next day, I awoke from a dreamless sleep on a sheetless bed. I sat up, scratched my head, and felt something matted in it. I brought my hand to my face and saw a dried, brownish-red crust. Blood. Mine? The angels? My heart dropped into my stomach.

I bounded out of bed and ripped my door open. Balan sat with his back to the door, having guarded it all night. He looked up at me from over his shoulder and panted happily. He would have felt through our bond if I was in pain, but he was probably still worried all night. "Is he still here?" I stepped over him and into the living room.

I scanned the living room and kitchen, looking for the hulking man. It was empty, there was not a single sign that there was ever an angel in my apartment. There was a chill in the air like a window was left open all night. I rubbed my arms and did a more thorough sweep. All of the weapons hidden around my apartment were still there and my security measures were intact. He was definitely gone, and a weight in my chest released.

I looked down at Balan and smiled. "Looks like we may get away with this after all." I walked to my bathroom with a spring in my step and a goofy smile on my face. All I needed now was a piping hot shower, a cigarette, and a cup of coffee.

My shower was luxurious, I took ten extra minutes, rounding it out to a twenty-minute shower. My body was sore from yesterday, but the heat wrapped around me like a blanket.

I threw away my clothes from yesterday, they were too tattered and bloody to save. I opened one of my bags and pulled out some random clothes, throwing them on haphazardly. From his place on the floor, Balan stared at me patiently, watching and listening for any disturbances. I took a moment to sit in front of him and hold his face in my hands.

He rested his head on my inner knee and snuggled into my leg like he was ready for a nap. "You've been up all night, huh? You tired?"

He huffed and closed his eyes. I kissed his head and rested my forehead on his cheek. I looked at his leg again, finding only a small scar. He was moving around without any problems and he didn't seem too sore. I felt a pang of guilt for falling asleep without him with me. He was up all night, guarding my door, against an angel that had injured him hours before. He was all alone, potentially facing that man while I slept like a baby.

I was agitated with myself, I had let the angel do that... thing. Whatever the fuck he did, it put me right to sleep. Maybe I was getting rusty. I never would have let my guard down like that before. And I certainly wouldn't have let him live. What the fuck was I thinking? I should have kept him away from Balan. I sent my apologies to him silently, my chest heavy with my irresponsibility. "It's pointless to sit here and feel guilty. We should get going soon." I knew that if I didn't switch back to English soon I would stop thinking in it and revert back to Demon tongue completely.

I pet Balan's face and shifted out from under him, going to grab a cup of coffee. Before I even made it into the kitchen, I spotted the full coffee pot. I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at it for a solid 25 seconds. "He made coffee," I said to no one in particular.

I grabbed it and was pouring out into the sink when my front door swung open. Balan's head shot up, along with his hackles. The angel walked in with grocery bags, ignoring me completely, and began to unpack them in my kitchen. Balan and I watched him carefully, confused by his nonchalant attitude.

"Sleep well?"

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