DAMIAN
Demon
Posts: 52
Played by:
noe
Last seen Nov 19, 2024 19:53:23 GMT
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Post by DAMIAN on Feb 10, 2023 21:41:07 GMT
 ━ i know what i am when you're here ━
Damian felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips as he listened to Clea. "I can't bear the thought of losing you, either." It would, to put it simply, drive him mad. It was the whole reason that he left Clea behind to go and face his sister because he was worried that if he were to bring her along, his sister would immediately go for her. He'd been tortured in Hell for long enough to know that if you truly want to hurt someone, you don't hurt them, you take away someone they care about and just like that, you'll see them in an immense amount of pain. It was more effective than a wound on their body because that wound will heal, but a broken heart never will.
"Please, don't apologize." Damian replied, his tone was a lot softer than before, same with the look in his eyes. It was far too soft, it was something reserved only for Clea. It was a side of him that only seemed to come out whenever Clea was around. One might argue that Clea was his humanity and he'd agree with them in an instant because he didn't feel those things when she wasn't around. It was a lot easier to remember that he was a demon whenever she wasn't around. "This is why I didn't wish for you to come. I didn't want you to see me like this." But if she hadn't come, then he would have died. So he was grateful that she was here, he just hoped that he'd have done a better job at defending himself because then she wouldn't be crying. He gently wiped away another tear as he urged Clea to look at him and when she did, the burns left on his face from the holy water began vanishing one after the other. His expression softened when she asked how he'd done that. "I'll tell you everything," he promised with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yes, I believe that would be for the best." He replied when Clea said that she needs to sit down too.
He sat down with a small wince falling from his lips before he turned his attention over to Clea before his expression shifted into one of surprise. "Oh, he was?" He liked the fact that he was learning new things about Clea every day and he felt just a bit guilty that he wasn't giving her the chance to do the same thing. So, he wanted to change all of that tonight. He wanted to tell her everything because if tonight was of any indicator, it was that tomorrow wasn't guaranteed. So, to hell with it all, he'll unravel everything and bare his heart to Clea. "Thank you, little one." He let her unbutton his shirt, his eyes focused solely on Clea. He released a soft hum at her next words before he nodded his head. His sister had hurt him, not only physically but emotionally. She really had been merciless on him tonight, so he was glad that he at least had Clea by his side now. Just having her around really did make a difference.
There was a soft hiss that escaped his lips as Clea began cleaning his wound. Though a moment later, he found himself distracted by the feeling of Clea's hand holding his hand and squeezing it. He turned his hand so that he could intertwine their fingers together, his lips stretching into a brief smile. Her next words comforted him in such deep ways that it made the tension in his shoulders evaporate. "Being a psychic may not be easy, but you are doing a wonderful job so far. I am proud of you," Damian admitted with the same smile still resting on his lips. He took her words to heart and decided to finally tell her everything.
"The reason I'm able to heal this quickly is because I'm a demon, little one." Damian finally admitted aloud, deciding to start with that bit since it was the hardest one to admit aloud. He hated what he was but unfortunately, it wasn't possible for him to change that. Or at least, that's what Damian thought. "My name isn't Damian and I'm not young either. I'm actually four hundred and thirty-two years old." Damian's eyes remained fixed on Clea as he revealed more and more about himself to her. "I once went by the name Rian Ayres. Although I do prefer the name Damian nowadays." Damian revealed, his thumb gently running across Clea's knuckles. "I turned to a demon after selling my soul to bring my sister back from the dead. She was killed by a man who once bought us from the market. I just couldn't accept the fact that she was gone. She was supposed to be under my protection but I had failed miserably, so I had to do something and that was when I summoned a crossroads demon who told me that she could bring my sister back from the dead in exchange for my soul and I said yes. I was given two years and I stayed with my sister during those two years until I was out of time." Damian wanted to leave out all the gore-y and unpleasant details, so he told her what she needed to know to get to know him better, to know things about him that he'd actually never told anyone before.
"That's why I was so angry at Alina. I sold my soul for her, died for her, but look at what she has become now. It felt like a slap in my face but then I realized that I was being a hypocrite. How could I judge her for what she has become when I'm a demon of all things? If anything, she's got a chance to feel things again while I..." Damian trailed off with a sigh falling from his lips. "I am cursed to stay this way forever." Damian finally concluded with a small frown tugging at the corner of his lips. "To tell you the truth, I never cared much for being a good guy, even back then when I was a human. Then I met you and now I worry that I will corrupt you, little one. I want to be good for you, but I am not sure I'm capable of it. I can't change who I am now, no matter how much I want to so I would understand if you wish to keep your distance. Hell, I urge you to keep your distance, little one. Nothing good will come out of knowing me."
CLEA GIVENS |
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CLEA GIVENS
Psychic
Posts: 320
Age:
30
Occupation:
Bartender at the Grill
Status:
Interested In
Partner:
Damian
Played by:
ANGE
Last seen Nov 20, 2024 19:58:46 GMT
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Post by CLEA GIVENS on Feb 16, 2023 20:10:08 GMT
Few people had probably ever been grateful for her absolute inability to listen. Her parents had claimed they were tearing their hair out over it – although neither one of them had ended up the least bit bald – SJ had fretted over her walking into something she wasn’t prepared for because that big heart in her chest pushed her to try and do something. Damian had never been like either side of her oddly grafted family tree, but this time, to save her he’d tried to go alone. She wasn’t about to tell him I told you so, but Clea felt the sentiment bubble in her chest. The thought of loss had pushed them both, had almost cost them everything before it had given them – him – something more than either one of them had expected. His sister alive without him ending up dead for letting it happen.
Just close to it.
Clea pushed the thought from her head, or tried to – it was hard not to think of what could happened when she could still see his blood seeping into his shirt from the corner of her eye as she tried to press as close as she could without hurting him. Her throat ached, the tears that she was apologising for stoppering up there. Her hand turned in his grip, squeezed in emphasis. ”I’d rather have it broken a hundred times this way than sit somewhere knowing I could’ve helped, that I could’ve stopped you…” Dying. It was still too soon, she couldn’t push the word out even though Damian had avoided it this time.
It felt like there was so much more she could’ve done, could do, if she’d just listened to her parents. She’d had such tunnel vision back then, always wanting to do what interested her, leaping in with laser focus instead of listening to what they were trying to teach her. How to deal with burns – water was the big thing, sterile fluid to cool it – how to stop the bleeding in some way that was far more effective than just trying to put pressure on it all. How to make those burns vanish in a heartbeat, like the smoke she’d seen rise from them in the first place. Now her throat did close up, just for a heartbeat before the questions exploded through that blockage. ”You’d be picking me up from the floor otherwise and really … you shouldn’t … even if you’re getting…” Better before her eyes. No matter how many weird things she’d seen since her powers had come roaring to life, it didn’t make this any easier to process.
He'd winced as he’d sat, but she could she could see for herself, that what she’d thought might leave her desperately calling for an ambulance when the adrenalin wore off and they both realised this was more serious than they’d bargained for – even with the miracles already happening. Clea huffed out another laugh, a little stronger this time. Her eyes flicked from the skin she was baring up to his face. ”You wouldn’t know it by how bad I am at this. He worked with Doctors Without Borders, we were always heading somewhere to try and help.” And she’d practically grown up in those tents, seeing the doctors putting people back together she never imagined had a chance of living. ”You don’t have to thank me,” she assured him, her fingers curling over his forearm for a moment. As much reassurance as she could manage. They were going to get through this, even if she spent the next month changing dressings and soothing the bruises stamped into him by his sister.
There was so much. It was hard to imagine the wound she carefully circled with the cloth closing up, vanishing the same way that the burns had. It was too big, too serious, the blood still … Clea gritted her teeth against it, seeking out his hand to steady both of them while she tried to do something with it. Soothing with a touch, with the sort of praise she’d come to expect from him. God, she usually didn’t fall for such flattery, but when it came out of Damian’s mouth she wanted to drink it up. ”That pride goes both ways. What you’ve done for your sister … most brothers wouldn’t go that far.” Suffering through a few dreams, stopping people from muggings or a car accident didn’t seem half as impressive as all that.
She only had half the story too. Listening had never been her biggest talent, but she had asked for the whole thing, had promised she could handle it. That meant drinking in every word that he spoke now, her mouth falling open on a rushed exhalation. Clea stopped cleaning the wound, clutching the cloth that he turned pink from his blood in one knotted fist as she stared at his face. ”A demon. From …” She dipped her chin as though that would point out hell – if it was more than just some tangled figment of Dante’s mind. Angels and demons, God, had been one of the strongest motives in folklore, appearing across the world in various guises. They shouldn’t have been any less likely to be real than psychics or vampires or witches, but she’d never thought …
It was like Damian had clutched at some curtain she’d never known had existed and tore it down. A demon, something that practically every society called evil, a name that wasn’t his … a life that wasn’t real, not in the way she’d thought it had been. ”You look good for it,” she tried, but the humour in her words stuck in her throat. Rian. A name, an existence cast away like that curtain maybe. His soul sold. Her heart breaking for the young man he had been. One who had done everything possible to bring his sister back from the dead, to try and save her life. ”I’m sure she never would’ve seen it that way. You were a good man, you are a good man, you tried to do your best for her.” And he’d given everything to do it. She wanted to pull her close, to wrap her arms around him and promise she could still see that man within. It wouldn’t have been a lie, demons had that awful reputation, but he’d never been anything but kind and soft and loving with her.
Once upon a time he’d tried to be like that with his sister, but the price he’d pay for her had changed everything. Clea frowned, shaking her head as she set aside the cloth. She rose a little higher on her knees, the hand that wasn’t squeezing his rising to his cheek, turning his face towards her. Fingertips brushed lightly at his cheekbone, her eyes fixed on his. ”You become one to try and give her the life you believed she should have. Whatever happened … down there … you had to take. You can’t blame yourself for any of that, and she shouldn’t blame you for it either.” Trapped for an eternity, changed because of his promise to his sister.
Clea sniffed in a breath, her eyes still burning as the corner of her mouth lifted. ”For someone who doesn’t care much for it, you do a pretty good job of it.” Clea inched closer, shaking her head as she skimmed her thumb under his lower lip. ”You could never corrupt me. Everything you’ve given me has been good, I refuse to believe that it’s going to change. I’m not going anywhere and I don’t want you to either.” Nothing good. Bullshit. He’d pulled her out of that vicious circle of not living for herself, had given her someone to care for and that was more than she deserved. ”Don’t pull away.” The words were whispered against his lips as kissed him.
Tagged: DAMIAN * Word Count: 1312 (soz!) |
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hope to see you in the discord! 
