#lovequeer!damien and loveless!erik...

[goldfinwrites]

Nonacearo week prompt 3: Handling a romantic confession

James weeded the garden, dirt smeared along the borrowed gardening gloves he wore, kneeling on the soft grass beneath the spring sky. His trowel delicately dug around in the soil, loosening the unwanted plants. Carefully, he tossed aside an intruder near the bupleurum rotundifolium, which were dotted with small blooms. The flowerbeds had not been not poorly maintained when he first found them, but he thought they must have been the work of Harold Anderson rather than any hired hands.

“Can I help?” Mika’s voice came from behind him, and he turned, then stood slowly, stretching out the stiffness from staying in place for so long.

“Of course, miss.” James offered a polite smile. “The watering can is just over there.” With his full hand, he gestured towards the ladder, closed and leaning on the storage shed.

“Great!” She made her way over, stepping over the collection of discarded weeds, before coming back, holding the can with both hands. “Here it is!”

“I’m nearly done with the weeding, which should be the last of the tasks before watering for today.” Lowering himself again, he lifted a few dangling leaves to look under them. In comfortable silence, he returned to clearing out the flowerbed.

He enjoyed caring for the flowers, he had found out from his time in the human world. Their velvety petals and scent were astonishingly fragile, something drastically different from the Abyssal Plains, and they reminded him that he was now free from his earlier life. They were colorful and incredibly varied, and the study’s collection on flora had shown him many different plants he could try to cultivate in the future. Perhaps once he found a sufficient permanent home for him and his brothers, he could indulge and stop by a gardening store.

His meditative musing was interrupted by Mika, who asked, “Since you’ve been here a while, do you have a favorite in the garden?”

Discarding the last removed weed, he rose to his feet and looked over the blooms. “I’m quite fond of the calendula officinalis; I enjoy their vibrancy.” They also seemed simple to grow, based on the gardening books he had read, so he felt comfortable maintaining them.

“Which one are those?”

James inclined his head towards the left of his workspace. “They’re the orange ones.” He faced Mika, who had sat down on the grass, knees folded in front of her body.

“Oh, they’re pretty!”

James smiled, a true one, his eyes soft and voice warm with delight. “They’re quite beautiful.”

Mika’s eyes flicked from the flowers back towards him, looking over him, and James instinctively felt himself straighten, his relaxed slip-up replaced by cordial distance. As kind as she had been to them, James struggled to trust her, with decades of political maneuvering and war having made him exceedingly cautious.

“Would you like to water the plants while I dispose of the weeds, miss?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure!” Mika hopped up from her seat, grabbing the watering can and making her way towards the flowerbeds.

James watched her as he picked up the pile he had created and was pleased as she watered the soil and roots rather than pouring over the leaves. He had shown her how to properly care for the garden before and seeing his lessons in action felt satisfying. Another experience he could chalk up to the human world, he noted. He threw the weeds into the exterior bin, not wanting to sort the viable ones for composting at the moment. Returning to Mika, he let her finish the task, waiting until she was done before comment.

“Nice work,” he opened his hand for the watering can, which she passed over to him. “I’ll return the equipment to the storage shed, so-”

“I’ll come with you!” Mika nearly tripped over her words, reminding him a bit of an overexcited Matthew.

“…As you wish.” Picking up the gardening tools, he piled them within his arms before walking towards the shed.

Mika dashed ahead and opened the door, which swung inwards, and she awkwardly held it open for him.

“Thank you, miss.” James stepped into the shed, which always smelled faintly of dust and wood, no matter how diligently he cleaned it. He meticulously began to place everything in its proper place, adhering to the order he had first found them in. The trowel hung on the hook, the gloves went in the cubbyhole…

Having organized appropriately, James briefly admired his handiwork before exiting, not wanting to leave Mika at the door. He placed his hand on the door, and she moved away, allowing him to close it behind him. He fished the shed lock out from his pocket.

“I, uh…” Mika’s voice was a bit timid, but she pressed on. “I came looking for you, actually, since I wanted to talk about something.”

James’s eyes slid over to her as he held the lock in his head. “With me?” His voice was as diplomatic as ever, hiding the knot that formed in his stomach at the words. He pressed his worries down, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Yeah,” she let out a small, nervous laugh, “I’ve been thinking a lot and…”

James felt tense, the gaps between her words only furthering the alarm bells in his head. Had one of his brothers accidentally done something to offend her? Or perhaps she was dissatisfied with him? He had tried to minimize the times he fed off her, keeping himself restrained to kissing when he was feeling particularly needy, but providing for multiple incubi could have proven to be too demanding.

“I like you.” Mika finished, threading her fingers and fiddling nervously.

“Pardon?” He hadn’t meant to say it aloud, but the statement caught him off guard. She… liked him? Though mildly reassuring, he wasn’t particularly sure how it related to her jittery behavior. Quickly, he flipped through his knowledge of humans, realizing he must be missing something.

“I like you.”

Liking, friendship, affection… He sorted through topics, trying to piece together what implication he was failing to grasp. Suddenly, it came in a flash. Love and Romance: A study of intimacy. He had read the book a while ago, attempting to improve his cultural understanding of humans as well as academic, and it had covered the use of word “like” to indicate romantic interest, among other meanings.

He opened the lock, hands shaking slightly, as he looked away from her. “Miss,” he started, then clamped his mouth shut, unsure of how he wanted to reply. Did he want to reject her? He knew he, like all demons, lacked love as humans conceptualized it, and would be unable to reciprocate her feelings. But what would it mean if he refused her? A current of fear passed over him as he reviewed the possible consequences. Would he still be allowed to stay in her home? Would his brothers? The only other person he could think of that could help him was Kay, the strange witch Harold had procured their human identities from, but he wasn’t sure how to contact her.

The silence stretched uncomfortably, and James realized he needed to say something. Forcing his voice to be level, he clicked the lock onto the door as he spoke, “I would like to make sure I adequately understand your statement.” Formality was his refuge as he desperately hid his panic from her, hoping the slight waver in his voice went unnoticed. “Do you mean in a general sense or romantically?”

“Romantically.”

Her voice was clear this time. Perhaps opening the discussion had resolved her, much like ‘ripping the bandaid off’, as he had heard her say once. Unfortunately, though she seemed less nervous, his worry had skyrocketed. He knew he could likely figure out how to take care of himself alone, but if this affected his brothers, he was unsure he could manage; finding one person who agreed to house five demons was an incredible stroke of luck, one he was not sure would happen again.  

Dishonesty was an option, but he doubted his ability to perform his role properly. Acting had always been Erik’s specialty, not his, and the gaps in his knowledge felt too large to bridge. He knew little of human relations, of their courtship etiquette, of even intimacy. Attempting to mimic reciprocation may be more likely to hurt Mika than turning her down, and could be seen as a betrayal of her extensive generosity towards him.

“I see.” Despite the warm day, he felt cold, and he swallowed, realizing his mouth was dry. He tried to collect his thoughts, but they slipped out of reach, leaving his mind feeling overcrowded. He felt stuck, with no correct answer for him in sight. James felt his breath sticking in his throat as he spoke.

“Wh…” Why are you telling me this, he wanted to ask, but did dare not to. He cleared his throat, forcing the words back down.

“As I’ve mentioned before,” he finally looked back at her, trying to take in Mika’s expression to adjust if necessary. “demons are different in a few ways compared to humans…”

He stared at her, evaluating. She seemed unsurprised, but was nibbling lightly at her lip, though he wasn’t certain if it was from worry or displeasure. He cautiously continued, “…we understand lust, passion, and care, but love is outside of our emotional range.”

James was gently reiterating their conversation in the study, internally begging her to understand, to accept what he was saying. We don’t really experience love, he had said, but it appeared Mika had not truly grasped what that meant. Or perhaps she did not care, a small, treacherous part of him thought. Searching her face, he saw her blink a few times, and he vainly hoped the wetness was his imagination.

“May I ask… if you desired a romance?” James asked the question, almost accidentally, but he wanted to comprehend, to ascertain what she wanted from him. And whether he thought he could give it to her.

“I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t think that far ahead.” Mika’s voice was strained, and James knew his statement had upset her. “I just wanted to tell you? To talk about it.”

James felt his heart twist as a slight hum of anger echoed in his head. How shallow, he thought, then crushed it. Mika was young, he reminded himself, even younger than Damien. She had lived less than a quarter of his lifetime; he should prioritize being patient with her. Keeping that thought, he observed her, noting the slump of her shoulders, the way she fixed her gaze on the ground. Hurt, sad, but not angry. A slight rush of relief ran through him; he could manage appeasing dejection. As long as he avoided her ire, it seemed probable he could continue to seek shelter here.

“I’m sorry,” James lied, the words coming easily despite his discomfort. His nature was not shameful, nor a cause of guilt, but he knew that apologies could help smooth things over. He made a note to arrange an outing with Erik at some point; though getting energy from strangers was far more difficult with humans than in the Abyssal Plains, he should try to sate himself outside of the mansion for the time being, as physical affection with Mika may cause further issues.

“It’s…” Mika’s voice was shaky, “It’s okay.” She was also lying, he knew, but her feelings would probably resolve with time. She shifted her feet, then raised her head, but refused to meet his eyes. “I… think I’m going to head to my room for a bit.”

James nodded, though she wouldn’t see it. “Will you be joining us for dinner, or should Damien bring it to your room, miss?” Damien was the smartest choice; his mind reading helped him react quickly and he wouldn’t say anything uncalled for as a result.

“Oh, um,” she took a second to process the question, her shoulders trembling faintly. “Damien, please.”

“I understand.”

“Thanks,” Mika’s breath was shaky, but she choked out “See you later,” before walking back towards the mansion.

James exhaled and closed his eyes once she had left. See you later, she had said, and that meant they still had a place to reside within. He stiffly headed towards the flowerbeds, sitting in front of them. Gently, he reached out towards the orange blooms, barely touching the petals, He would head inside after a few minutes, but he wanted to make sure his earlier anxiety had faded before preparing dinner, as Erik could be highly perceptive when he felt the desire to be. Admiring the flowers, he considered adding others to the bed, remembering a few from the illustrated guide he had found, which he had taken to his room rather than shelving back in the library. Tulipa turkestanica would be nice…

He eventually rose from the garden, returning to the Anderson manor. He wanted to see his brothers, to have a nice dinner with them as they were never able to in the Abyssal Plains. The human world may have its own difficulties, but being able to truly spend time with them was invaluable. Fleeing his home was worth it, without question, for his brothers to be safe, away from slaughter, their father, and the painful memories that haunted them. James felt immense gratitude towards the Anderson family for the help they had provided, enough that it could overwhelm him, for allowing him the chance to build a home. Tonight, he would indulge his family, he promised, perhaps even participate in that digital game with the small vehicles Matthew had been trying to convince them to play. James smiled as he entered the kitchen, putting the earlier conversation out of his mind. To care so deeply, so openly for the meaningful people in his life was such a great source of joy that he could never sacrifice again. Come devil or succubus, James would hold onto this present and future with every fiber of his being.