Emma looked Natasha up and down, her hands folded to her chest.
Natasha looked Emma up and down, her hands folded to her chest.
Charlotte stood there, observing the two girls. There was a smirk on the woman's face.
Azazel and George stood several yards away, unsure of what the girls were up to. Both men were kind of dumbasses in that regard.
Nervously, Azazel stroked his right horn, a thing he was learning to do out of comfort whenever he was feeling frantic about a situation. He still hadn't told Emma what happened, but he was sure she could tell by the two horns Natasha was sporting.
He sighed. His eyes glanced at George, who gently returned the look with a shrug.
"Women, eh?" Azazel sighed. He flipped his MP3 player back on. Maybe music will help. A smooth melody from a video game OST played in the background.
Standing there wasn't helping the situation. The three women hadn't budged for the entire two hours they had been back in their kingdom. It wasn't like his presence was going to speed up the process. It was already past midnight, so he figured at least the two non-demon ladies would want to sleep, but it just kept dragging on.
Azazel placed his hands in his pockets and casually attempted to inch around them, back to the barn. Somehow, the women were so focused that they didn't spot him moving past them.
With a sigh, he flopped onto the hay. He could still feel a pulsating sensation in his head, so he would take the opportunity to attempt to go back into the same trance he slipped into the previous night.
A chicken ran up and pecked his leg.
He flailed his leg around.
Damn chicken.
With closed eyes, he attempted not to think a single thought.
No matter how he attempted to focus, he was unable to return to that state. Apparently, it was going to take him a lot of practice to master such a thing.
It sounded like a gaggle of hens entered the barn, but in reality, it was the two girls as they insulted one another.
Azazel thought it would be best to simply ignore the noisy banter. Before long, he heard the noise die down and felt a tug on his hand. He didn't look to see who it was.
"Azazel!" A firm voice seemed to be scolding him. "I will not allow you to stay alone here tonight. Not when unsavory people roam about."
He rolled over and opened his eyes to see Emma attempting to get his attention.
"Yes, darling?"
She frowned at him.
Oh, now is not the time to be speaking to her like that.
At least he wasn't too dense to understand the look she gave him.
Azazel stood up from the spot, brushing the hay off his clothes. Man, his clothing was becoming quite filthy.
Emma immediately snatched his hand when he finished, leading him into the cottage. He made sure to duck so his horns didn't dig back into the ceiling as she led him to her room. She locked the door behind him and sighed.
I wonder what I should say. I know what I shouldn't say...
The demon flipped off the MP3 player. He stuck it in the left pocket of his jacket. He pulled the jacket off, folded it, and placed it on her dresser. He wasn't sure why he was dragged into the cottage, but Emma seemed serious.
"My knees are giving out."
He was crouching a lot.
Emma laughed and urged him to take a seat on the bed. Without hesitation, he did what he was told. He thought it would be best if he followed any and all instructions. It was best not to make women angry.
She coughed, returning her expression to a frown. "I heard you had a good time."
Oh God.
"I did not have a good time," he mumbled in response.
Emma placed her hands on her hips.
She doesn't believe me, I'm sure.
"Do all men enter a woman's home and immediately drink that much alcohol?"
Azazel looked at her. She knew everything that happened. She seemed to want him to repeat the events back to her. The last thing he wanted to do was remember what he did after he was legally over the blood-alcohol limit to operate heavy machinery.
"...Yes? I mean, no?" His stare was blank.
She took a seat next to him on the bed, a bit uncomfortably close to his demonic soul.
"I can tell you feel bad because you didn't say anything about me pulling you in here."
Azazel gave her a sly smirk. He scratched the side of his head. "That obvious?"
Emma nodded in agreement. She let out a sigh, then placed her hand on his leg.
Azazel seemed to blush more as a demon than when he was king. Maybe he felt more free with this sort of life?
"I was nervous," he admitted. "I thought it would fix...issues."
Emma raised a brow, attempting to inquire more.
"It's embarrassing," he admitted.
Emma smiled gently. "You can tell me."
"I most certainly cannot tell you."
There was silence. She was going to make him admit every feeling he had while he was alone in the cabin with that girl. He knew there was no way to escape this situation. He had never actually had anyone in his life care enough to understand how he felt about any given situation.
Azazel felt he had already lived a richer life here than when he was a human.
"I give in." Azazel covered his mouth and looked at the floor.
Emma looked straight at him. He could tell she was studying his eyes. It was more intimacy he received from one glance than from his wife during their entire six years of marriage.
I'm a man. I shall not cry.
"So..." He stumbled over his words. "How do I say this? I, uh, she was coming onto me pretty strong. I have never slept with a woman and still haven't."
Azazel felt his manliness meter drop a few notches. He could tell. It dropped hard. Maybe it was even gone.
"So, I drank when offered, because usually becoming intoxicated leads to certain issues, as a man," he said, nodding to the floor as if he were addressing an audience of ants. "In reality, it made everything worse. I sucked her blood and fell over drunk."
Emma burst out laughing. It was not the response she had expected. "Thank you."
Azazel shrugged. "I was horrified. I mean, the first thing I did the next morning was laugh at George's face, but after that, I was horrified. I did nothing but puke the entire way back."
Emma placed her hand on his cheek.
Azazel didn't think he would ever turn a brighter shade of red. Ever.
"Thank you for your honesty," she said gently. "She told me you enjoyed the entire thing and made plans to meet her tonight after the rest of us fell asleep."
Azazel was horrified that a bloody witch of a woman would tell such lies. The look on his face gave it away. His expressions were always rather transparent.
"The nerve of the bloody witch," Azazel mumbled some profanities to himself.
"I pulled you in here because of that," Emma confessed.
His shocked expression was replaced with a smirk.
"Don't start," Emma teased.
He hung his head, looking back at his non-existent ant army.
"...just once!" She relented.
The mischievous smirk returned. "Are you jealous?"
Emma nodded. "Yes."
It was as if Cupid himself had shot an arrow through his heart.
"Want me to bite you, my dear kitten?"
"No."
"I had to try."
Cupid ripped the arrow back out. It was nice while it lasted.
"I caught you a deer," he said, seeming excited.
"Please don't release the deer in here," she pleaded. "I don't need a rotten deer roaming around in here. Imagine how Grandma would respond."
"I thought a zombie deer of my creation might be romantic." Azazel shrugged. "She doesn't appreciate the finer intricacies of my art."
Emma yawned and crawled under the covers, lying down in bed.
I'm not at all nervous now.
"Lay by me?"
I am nervous.
He scooted back and laid down beside her, making sure he didn't make eye contact. The least likely thing to ever happen afterward did: she moved closer and rested her arm over his chest.
He was rigid. The next move would be important.
"You're stiff," she mumbled with her eyes closed. "Just relax. You are going to marry me someday, aren't you?"
"Yes!"
There was no hesitation in his response. He promised Granny. He would make Granny proud by being her hot husband.
He could just envision Granny giving him a thumbs up.
Even after Emma drifted off to sleep, he was unable to drift off into the trance he attempted earlier. Compared to being in the barn, it was going to be an even longer road to reach such a state of tranquility, especially if she expected him to lay with her every night.
Not that he would rather be in a barn with chickens pecking at his feet and cows dropping giant, aromatic patties periodically.
Emma briefly opened her eyes. "You smell like cattle, mixed with body odor and a dash of alcohol and vomit."
"I will be sure to bathe in the morning."
How embarrassing.