#and writing backwars bc once again time is an illusion

[bearratic]

From: Part 1 & Part 2. With @sanctissimx

As a feind, he loses his temper faster than most, the owner of a fuse so short it only needs a far away spark to be set completely alight. As a demon, Ais will tear you apart for looking at him sideways, not to speak about looking his direction in general, it is always your wrong doing. And as one still half a man, one labeled born in hell, Ais posseses deep predilection. A fondness so tender it can only be reserved for just one. If you were to ask him, he’d call it a weakness and slide it off his shoulder as if it was nothing more than a pest. Yet it will never even near the ground, it clingings to him uninvited, simple vexcation he cannot get rid off. Grained within his mind and muscle for just one out there. One the complete opposite to him, one with purpose, held in higher regard than the demon ever will be. The wild storm in the demon’s mind abruptly subsides as a hand is laid on his waist, he had been distributing rage knuckle after knuckle on what can only be said as-.. used to be a face. He looks up, the subtle fingers form a hold on him as they have been there quite a times before. Each singular time they have a different warmth to them, a different elucidation. Wrapping exactly along the lines of his body to fit and remove him from his own doing.

With the last heated spiting of “Bastard.” From the hellhound through his fanged mouth he lets his inebriated body be guided out. The colder Eridian air knocking on the door of his lungs instantly. A stench he finds it. Even so he scrunches his nose, the doctor next to him cleanses his heat fairly quickly, battling the anger with a scent of rosemary and tyme, wood, elegancy. Ais' ill temper made way for a fanged smile and lowly chuckle instead, had he gone too far once again? It didn’t matter, if it was up to him, he hadn’t gone far enough. Purposefully the demon leans into the hold of the taller Kuras just a more than truly necessary in his state. To him it was the obvious move once their hands were slid and locked into each other, so very careful not to scratch his gentler hands with his sharper nails, acessories that coat his fingers or general warmth they seemed to still radiate.

Not a thing escapes those golden angelic eyes as Kuras simmers down the demon, letting him walk in to a familliar zeal and to what Ais would call- sanctuary. The only one the horned one had ever stepped foot in, and not once. It seems deeply buried within him, known like the back of his bloodied knuckles.

A satisfactory grin as he takes seating, one ecxessive move due to the booze laced legs. Nevertheless, his sanguineous filled eyes just as sharp as before. “Tell me, healer. Isn’t favouritism deeply frowned upon in your field of.. work. Hence I seem to take up most of your precious resources.” The grin on his face holding something amiable canceling any harshness to his words, just like the deep gaze in his eyes. Kuras always seems to have time for him, it did not matter the time of day, nor night. The doctor seems to drop it all for him and he will not help but play into that privelage.

Ais- taking off the rings on his bloodied hand, continues. “For you i’d reach further than top shelf if it were to exist.” The blood splurts lingering on his slowly rising and flling chest, trail up to his neck. Both body parts move in shocking rhythm as he chuckles. “I wouldn’t dare defy any word spoken by you.” The demons’ wider frame taking up a spot in the clinic, casting a horned shadow on the walls behind him. The contrary of how the candles seem to specifically enlighten Kuras’ skin, as if it’s made from utmost expensive sleek material. The slow, burning hunger for a touch was biting within Ais. Just a quick feel, just in case it were to suddenly be shroud in darkness, no longer near, he knows holding on will do more harm than good. No need to get so close, and once again be left with a ghost, loneliness always being the most feared within him.

“Are you playing coy with me, doctor?” He speaks to the other, who seems to have his back to him for now. The demon raises out the untainted hand, the friction of his jewlery clinging gently against each other and it instantly falls back onto his thigh. That need for a touch was becoming increasingly dangerous. Like a wild animal he was still refraining from it. The same hand that would let soulless cary out his every desire, now withheld as if the other would fall apart if their skins did meet. Wouldn’t it be most blasphemous?

As the other had turned back to inspect his wounded hand he speaks. “Kuras.” The demon’s lips barely part when he spoke the others name turning it gravelly. Once again the less injured hand reaches out, this time it goes to the top of the others, feeling the bones within answer to the gentle pressure. Ais’ tongue lingers and waits on the sharp edge of a fang, chosing his next words carefully. “What’s an angel like you to do with a stray. Even within a wretched city like Eridia, there are enough standing above what I am. Yet I always find you next to me,”

Returning his hand he lets the other finish up as needed. His head looking up instead of to what is happening to his wounds. Trailing along Kuras’ neck, jaw, the only sliver of chest visible under his veil like coat. Taking him in, the soft gentler scent of the other tempering with his own smell of smoke and destruction.

"An improvement you say? I don't think I wish to do such a thing." The demon averts his gaze, why is it always with Kuras that it feels like not just two, but many eyes are on him. Why is he the only one that gets the respect and admiration without the use of a word. Those eyes, all of them have the same warmth to them, but it seems to be locked away, only spoken through actions. Missing the blood that seemed to have been left on the side of his mouth from the bar completely, he leaves even such a simple task to the trained medical practicioner. The accepted touch comes in the form of Ais turning back to face Kuras, accepting the hand that reaches out to his mouth though closely followed by the deep crimsons. The wipe, the skin on skin had him feeling vulnerable enough to make the demon clench his jaw. But it wasn't anger, neither fear. It was anticipation, it was the slow feeding of his relentless bottomless hunger. The way his blood goes up towards the doctors mouth, as if a most treassured gift and so it is used. It widenes the rogue eyes, not letting the eyecontact they had made drop for a moent, he’d call it a libidinous move. Returning the half curl of his lips, he leans his head nearer to the others body.

A demon that bleeds like a mortal, it would seem pathetic to most but to Kuras, it seemed to be unequal to all others. The wrapped up hands go to the other’s middle, one on each side as Kuras differs in length, making Ais practically stare at it in this seated position. He moves his legs apart, the heavy worn boots on each side just as well, only lessening the distance between doctor and patient every second. “If you’re asking me to stay. Do you think I will be the answer you’re searching for to fill the daunting silence this place brings you?”