Page 27 of Daemonium

"It's not yours to carry.”

"Everything you have is mine, Sunshine." He reached out and turned on the tap. "And if you won't willingly give it, I'll just take it like I do everything else."

He washed his hands and then stepped back and crouched, opening the cabinet and sorting through it. When he stood back up there was a metal first aid kit in his hand.

“Turn for me.”

I did as he said, silently observing as he delicately grasped my injured hand, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone with a rough exterior. He carefully cleaned the cut, his fingers caressing my skin. The antiseptic slightly stung, but it was a good kind of sting that had me rolling my lower lip between my teeth. Ky noticed my reaction and his gaze flicked up before returning to the task at hand.

“Did the pain feel similar when you cut your hand?”

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. I wished I could deny the reality of what was happening to me.

He paused; his eyes full of understanding. “There’s no reason to be ashamed, not ever. Especially not with me.”

I smiled gratefully at him. He always knew how to comfort me. “You have a way with words.”

“Only the ones that are yours.”

“Why is that?”

“It’s something you’ve forgotten.” He casually tossed the small cotton pad onto the sink and gazed down at me.

“Something you're purposely not telling me?" I prodded.

"It's not as straightforward as that. You have to remember. That's the only way it will hold any significance."

“And if I can’t?” I asked quietly.

“Then I'll repeat the process until it's ingrained in your mind forever."

Not knowing what to say, I simply nodded in response. It was evident that while Kyrous Vetis may not have experienced emotions the same way as others, he still felt deeply. Perhaps even too deeply. Despite the rumors surrounding him, all I knew was that he was here with me now, offering to ease my pain and be everything I never knew I needed. Any demons he carried were a part of who he was and accepting him meant embracing all of him.

Looking back, I couldn't believe I ever doubted if he was my type because now, I couldn't imagine anyone else taking his place in my life. I resented the fact that someone had taken away moments from us, leaving memories that only he could recall. He turned away and grabbed two toothbrushes still wrapped in plastic, as well as a small bottle of mouthwash.

In silence, I brushed my teeth, feeling slightly more human afterward. Finishing before me, he stepped back and observed as I finished brushing.

"Now remove your clothing," he ordered as soon as I was done.

I sat the toothbrush down and scowled at him. "You could ask with a little more kindness."

"I'm not known for being kind."

"You have the heart of a sweetheart that has been twisted."

He chuckled softly, and his handsome face broke into a smile. "I'm not sure what that means but keep talking like that. You almost sound like me."

“And here I thought you were accepting my compliment.”

With a surprisingly smooth motion, he stepped forward and grabbed the bottom of my drenched shirt, lifting it over my head with one fluid movement.

"How are you so skilled at that?"

He removed his mask from the top of his head and placed it on the bathroom counter, before flashing a grin that revealed his pristine teeth.

“Take off your clothes,” he commanded again.

Slightly irritated, I kicked off my wet shoes and struggled to peel off my soggy socks. When I was done, I stared back defiantly. “Is that good enough for you?”

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