Page 10 of Devil Bound
“I’m sorry, but I have to go,” I told the bookseller.Her huffing gasp of protest echoed behind me.
I caught up with Nelly in a shoe shop where he was looking at a pair of flimsy canvas shoes.Not what most powerful necromancers would go for when building their army of the undead.He was holding on to the coffee as if it were a daiquiri at a pool bar, and the bags under his eyes were complemented by pale skin as dry as sandpaper.
In the manhwa, the sick main character had been red in the face like a crustacean thrown into a boiling pot of water.Hmm.
I glanced at the shoes he was bending over to get a better look at.“Green is the color of death,” I told him.
He flinched and turned, scowling when he laid eyes on me.I scratched under the collar of my shirt to give me an excuse to pull it down, let him see just a glimpse of what was underneath.
“What the fuck?I gave you your fucking money back.I owe you nothing!”
Ahh.He was going red in the face now.I smiled, and my mouth watered.
“All I meant to say was that green is a good choice for a necromancer’s shoes.Hmm.I think for that, you owe me a compliment in return.”
He had the cutest little frown line on his forehead.I ached to lick it.
“I.Owe.You.Nothing!”
The shoe seller poked out their head from around a shelf, and Nelly flinched.
“Are you feeling all right, Nelly?Your face is all red.”
He was glaring.I loved it.
“Of course I’m fine.Why the fuck wouldn’t I be fine?More importantly, what the fuck are you doing here?Are you following me?”
The first rule of romantic stalking was to never tell your stalkee that you were doing it, so I beamed and said, “I’m here for a new pair of shoes, of course.What else would I be doing at a place like this?”
He glanced around, then looked at the floor, and I thought I saw him curl his toes as if he wanted to hide those hideous things on his feet.Once I had my way with him, his toes would curl for different reasons.
“Oh,” he said, nothing more.There was a trace of innocence there too—no, something even softer than that.I wanted to rub myself all over him, explore, taste, but he was turning away from me.“I guess that makes sense.Don’t let me keep you then.”
The store worker had come closer, and Nelly had seen them.I smiled.I could work with self-consciousness.
“Nelly, you’re not wearing any shoes.”
He turned his head, once more clamping me in the vise of his golden eyes.
“Don’t you think I fucking know that?Why the fuck do you think I’m here?”
“If you’re not feeling well, I can take you home.You look like you’re running a fever.”I leaned closer.“Let me check.”
Nelly stepped back, his atrocious foot coverings clunking like hooves.
“Don’t fucking touch me.I’m fine.”He looked around, mildly panicked, then pulled a shoebox off a shelf—black canvas shoes rather than green.“I gotta go.”
With the shoes in one hand and the coffee in the other, he left me standing there, heading for rubber boots that were too ugly to be kinky.
I sighed, catching the shop person’s eye and giving them an apologetic shrug.They smiled right back at me, clearly ready to come over, so I walked away.
I pretended to look around, picked up the left one of a pair of shiny dress shoes and rubbing it suggestively right in Nelly’s line of sight.I heard his sharp intake of breath, then the high-pitched squeaking of rubber shoes being moved around.I bent over to reach for another pair of shoes, making sure my shirt and jacket rode up as I did so.
Nelly was grumbling noisily behind my back, and my smile grew.I heard a few fucks and other sweet nothings in there, and it made me want to gag him.
Before I could even try on a pair of shoes and walk up and down in them in front of him, I heard his noisy sock things clunking on the floor as he headed to the register, awkwardly carrying his coffee, a pair of rubber boots, and those understated canvas shoes.
Necromancers and their fashion sense.
