#making a cup of coffee for your partner- knowing how much sugar/creamer/milk/whatever they prefer

[girlucifer]

"i like the sea; we understand one another.

it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; and so am i." - greta garbo

solomon + one-sided love with a gender-neutral human mc / lesson 36-41 spoilers / word count: 1k

*so in lesson 41, we see that mc remains relatively close to solomon while he teaches them how to control their magic. so maybe, during those years, we see solomon grow to fall in love with the human, but he knows nothing can really come of it, as their heart lies within another's grasp [one of the brothers]

a cruel smile, a mocking touch... they set a cup of coffee in front of him and he accepted it with a small smile- no words were exchanged, the only sounds being the birds singing outside. the two had grown so close, so comfortable together in the small apartment atop the bookstore in new england- naturally, the two had to spend every opportunity they had together to hone in the human's newly acquired magical powers- it was only three years ago when solomon's apprentice had almost died from their own powers seeming to claw its way out, manifesting into self-destruction that would've very likely killed them had they not gotten help from angels and demons alike. seeing the destitution brought upon the human's out-of-control intrinsic abilities, solomon knew he must do everything he can to protect not just the human, but all the three realms. once the two returned back to their world, that strange, protective, overwhelming feeling had washed over him- he remembers taking the human's hand, asking them, begging them, "escape away with me- normal life is far too mundane for the two of us. i promise a grand adventure- if you trust me." after all, the world was different now with the two of them privy to the most well-kept secrets of the entire universe: the worlds of angels, demons and humans alike, all threaded and woven together like a spider's web- the two were inexplicably linked through their shared experiences. and it wasn't even a week later that the two were in his small '04 sedan, driving north with nothing but a small luggage of necessities and the clothes on their backs.

solomon had dozens of places to crash, scattered all across the globe- he'd hop around whenever his work took him overseas- but his favorite was always the one up in north america. and money was never an issue- for a sorcerer, luxury was something natural, simple and easy- he can conjure up really anything he wants- the latest designer clothes, the best interior decorations, michelin-star cooking, first-edition books, classic films... anything material, he had it. it was, rather, the boring, the basic, the unremarkable that he longed for- loosening your tie after a long day at the office, or crying at the end of some cheesy romance movie when the two leads find each other's arms once again, or drinking that perfect cup of coffee your lover had made, who knows exactly how you like it. it was such a silly concept- how after all this time, centuries and centuries living on this earth, having done every possible thing under the sun- he had yet to fill the void in his soul that seemed to ache for another's touch.

when the two had moved in together, their relationship had started to shift- he had always been on friendly terms with the human, ever since the two met down in the devildom all those years ago. but now, he was privy to everything about them- the songs they sang in the shower, the tunes they used as their alarm, how they liked their eggs- such simple, simple things... yet every little newfound fact he learned about them, he memorized, like the little inkspells written upon his ancient tomes of sorcery. and then there it was- after having to spend day and night with them, teaching and shaping them up to be a sorcerer of his magnitude, he had fallen completely and wholly in love.

oh, how they'd smile at him, such a cruel smile- they knew, surely they knew how his heart wrenched every time they touched- it wasn't enough, it never was. he wanted to kiss their neck and explore every crevice of their body, but fear gripped his heart every time the room quieted and their eyes found his own, their fingers seeming to inch closer... so instead, he would watch the human prepare breakfast for the two- the birds chirping, the flowers blooming. such a homely scene; he'd sit in the small kitchenette, staring at the small of their back as they move around, grabbing spices and cutting herbs, the smell of exotic destinations making way into the small room. then, the human would set down two plates, and they'd eat. it was as simple as that. once, he had commented that they had seemed like an old married couple, to which the other laughed with a sparkle in their eye, "yes, i suppose so." then he wanted to add on: well, why not? why couldn't we be an old married couple, decades and decades into our marriage, yet we still retain such a lively youthful love? like how you make me breakfast every morning, and how i read to you every night, and how we go on walks through the park, how we feed the ducks there with the bread you baked with the ingredients i bought? why not indulge ourselves in this little fantasy? we may be soulmates, or we may be dying, maybe the world will end tomorrow and us with it. but right now, we're here, and i'm holding the coffee you made and you're watching me lose myself in the aroma. we're here, and maybe nothing else really matters, except the way you called this our home, our home, because you somehow knew i wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you aren't under the same roof as me, because you knew that after the worst day of my life, i would want to come home to your shoes by the door, your smile greeting me when i walk in. why not, why not just sit here and pretend we are in love, because it wouldn't really be pretending, or rather- i wish it wouldn't be pretending. i wish you were mine, and i were yours- but your heart lies within someone else's hands, doesn't it? with his red gaze and black heart, his wicked smile and bitter taste, like apples to the sinner.

but of course, he never said any of this, because he knew better. instead, he took a sip of coffee, the taste bitter.