" - fine. "
Maddison responded in a calm voice . He didn't enjoy the company he had as much before . Sure , the waiter was nice . Nice enough to help him when he was panicking, but, if there's one thing you're forced to learn when you live a life edging on madness , it's that demons never go for the fragile ones .
Demons naturally go for beings that oppose their nature . It's a game of thrill and fun to play with something that breaks at the faintest things yet unwillingly endures any pressure out on it .They enjoy slowly killing things , corroding it with thier strong venom sinking it deeply within our systems .They love a game of slow torture as humans call it " slow burn " not by love ...No , but fire .
Timid humans troubled by life . Plagued with endless desires never fully sated.
The scent was thick on the waiter . I would've fell for the 'Cool but worried voice' however it turns revolting to the ears once you've heard enough of it .
Now the existence of demons must've stopped you for a second . However it is unfortunately true that such vile , perverse creatures walk among humanity.
They exist in the very core of London .
Bathing in the wealth of the rich , feasting on the shattered dreams of desperate people residing in the slums . They're each a different type with different purposes or feeding habits . Your expect to hear the devil's real next but he's graciously not ... I choose to believe.
Demons aren't brought to Earth. No . They're born , created by human greed , desires , desperation ; anything that screams evil . And there's no difference with the waiter beside me , except he seems to differ from the typical demon . He doesn't fit the category of any demons so far , so he's origin is probably mixed .
Exhaling, he decided he spent enough time on the cold dusty floor . Lifting himself up though proved to be a challenge, but John, the name of our secret waiter was kind enough to not offer help .
He knew pride when he saw it .
John stood next to him . Worry evident in his eyes .
" Thank you for the help but I've ought to go my way now , it's quite late ." He hopefully explained hoping the other would get the message and leave .
" Really ? I don't mind walking you home if you're not up to the occasion." John said in his "I care but don't care tone" nervousness flashing in his eyes at the idea of a missed meal .
" Really! I'm okay . Goodnight" Maddison said , fatigue catching up to him , escaping through his voice . He looked as if was trying to stifle a yawn .
" But -"
By the time he wanted to say something, Maddison was already halfway home . He was quite fast , but then again all humans were once they knew what he was .
Maddison arrived home at night.
Home .
Not Louis's home .
His home .
He just barged through the door and three his body and the couch . The house smelt like brandy and expensive cigars , but when never did it . This was the scent of home , his neighbour or rather flatmate , Damien wasn't due home any time soon . He was an agent or whatever of some sort .
All he knew was he did everything.
Seems he was wrong from the smell of fresh burning cigar wafting into the living room from the balcony platform and the shuffling of familiar boots .
Turns out Damien was home but was out smoking and once again didn't lock thier doors .
" Should've known from the open door ." He muttered , face stuffed into some random pillow that smelt of farts and butt grease . He let out a frustrated scream , that resembled that of a dying cow because of the way the sound came out uneven , most likely because of the pillow muffling it .
" Ah , you're home Mai ." Damien said in his handsomely obnoxious French accent calmly walking in , and closing the doors behind him . " I thought you were home when I heard the door opening, but the sound of a dying cow confirmed you had came."
Maddison was utterly wasted and couldn't deal with Damien at the moment. Seeing that Maddison was tired , Damien took the opportunity God gave him with open arms , " I mean why leave it to waste ." He convinced himself .
Knowing that Maddison was to weak to fight back .
Damien approached the couch , turning Maddison over , who offered little to no protest but faint mumblings . Grabbing a black marker from the pockets of his trench coat he positioned his hand above Maddison's face and was just about to draw when he paused and thought about it deeply .
The man was a detective. Which Ould be obvious if you lived with him for nine years in the same flat . Thinking back to the past when he'd taken odd jobs , was multilingual and dead-ass broke .
Maddison was the type of guy that acted like the world owed him something and the world in turn had something against him . The first time he saw him , you could tell from a glance he had a vendetta with someone .
The fire in his eyes burned bright and as tired as he was these days .
He still held that grudge as if it was the very reason he was alive .
He once tried making him tell him about the grudge , such as who it was against but Maddison brushed it off with drinking a bottle of brandy that day , on some occasions whisky . And boy ! , was he a sucker for a good drink . It made him start thinking the only reason Maddison would buy an expensive bottle was to avoid that topic on days he'd ask .
Sitting down , he lifted the quilt and gently laid it down in them .
Drifting off to long needed sleep they both postponed for too long .
___________________________________________
Hey guys , pls follow and like it means a lot to me 💓🥺
50Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡF9o4I6b160
and then Add to home screen.