Chapter 11 #2
I'm afraid to say anything so I just point at one of them. He snatches up the box and raises an eyebrow. I nod and he stomps off to the bathroom. I flip onto my side away from the door and pull my knees to my chest.
Another wave of dull pain washes over me, and I bury my face in the pillow.
I thought the meds I took earlier would help, but my aches are back with a vengeance.
I just have to wait for the wave to be over and my cramps will settle into the background.
Hopefully, I'll be able to fall asleep and everything will be fine when I wake up.
“Sleeping won't make me go away, little witch.”
“What exactly do you want me to do, Omen? You threatened to kill someone, bought me supplies, then put me to bed. The only time I've gotten any relief was when the damn cat showed up, but it was you. So, excuse me for not knowing what the fuck I'm supposed to do.”
“None of that made any sense, but that's fine. You're clearly still in pain so I'll excuse your behavior.”
I launch upright, a growl rumbling through the room. “I will gut you if you use that patronizing tone again, demon. Until you've felt what I currently do, you have no room to criticize my tone or words.”
He holds up his hands and his throat bobs. “I didn't mean it like that.”
“Then how exactly did you mean it?” My challenge hangs between us and his mouth flops open like a fish out of water.
Of course he doesn't have an answer. Because he was being an asshole.
He's not the first person I've encountered who's dismissed my pain and called me out on what they perceive to be a shitty attitude. And he won't be the last.
He steps closer and I tense. When he settles on the bed next to me, I lean away from him.
I still don't understand why he's here—why he stuck around.
He didn't have to check on me. He didn't have to go to the store for me.
He didn't have to do any of this. All I've done to repay him is snap at him and give him a halfhearted thanks.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I glance away. I fucking hate feeling like I don't know my own emotions. I want to be pissed at him. I want to be left alone. I want to be held and told everything will be fine. I want to be fed a pint of ice cream. I don't know what I want.
“Hey,” he whispers. His hand slides along my cheek and turns me towards him.
“I shouldn't have said that. I apologize.
I meant I don't blame you for being in a shitty mood. The last time I was hurt, I was in the worst mood and had no one there to bitch at. I wish someone would have taken my bullshit.”
I sniff. “Where was Dimitri?”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “He was worse off than I was. I couldn't complain to him.”
“I didn't think demons got hurt. Aren't you, like, indestructible?”
His hand drops from my face and disappointment lances through me. “I think you're mistaking indestructible with immortal. Neither of which we are, actually. But that's a conversation for another time. What do you need right now?”
I search my mind, trying to find one thing I can ask him for that won't be too much of a burden. I should tell him I'm fine and there's nothing he can do. Except I'm so tired of doing everything alone. My family is gone and my friends are off living their own lives. I want a companion.
I doubt Omen would choose me, even if sex wasn't on the table, but he's here now and he hasn't run yet. In fact, he ran to me. He could have skipped out and he didn't. For now, he chose me and that's enough.
“Will you just stay until I fall asleep?” Having him here might be enough. “But wake me up when you go. Just enough so I'm not freaked out if I wake up later and find out you're gone.”
His brows pull low and I brace myself for him to deny me.
If he walks away, I'll let him go without a fight.
I'll take the rejection like I do everyone else's, with poise and silence.
I'll vow to never summon him again, no matter how many sauce jars I need opened.
It takes everything in me not to tell him it's fine and he can go.
Instead, I wait patiently for him to poof out of existence.
He pats the pillow behind me, and I sink onto my back. My lip ends up between my teeth, and he scowls until I stop. After he's tucked me in, he pushes to his feet and my eyes slam closed. No use watching him leave and maybe I'll be able to hide the shame flooding my system.
“Move over,” he grunts, and my lids fly open.
I scoot toward the side of the bed and he slides in next to me.
He radiates heat, and I desperately want to press my body to his.
Except I'm not weird like that. Other ways, sure, but not that.
I flip to my side, my back facing him. My efforts are for naught.
His arm slips around my waist and he tugs me close to him.
Instantly, my lids droop and my muscles relax.
Even my cramps ease into the background and my headache vanishes.
A sigh leaves me and I slide into dreamland, telling myself I'll ask him if he's a healer later.