I tried to sell my soul last night
Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
Honestly, if he hadn’t been lazy as fuck, he might have stirred himself off his ass to go join the fight. Hell, one of the very few things he is good at. But he’s never been any good at being anyone’s damned lackey. Not even for a god. And that had felt waaaaay too much like lackey shit for him.
So, he’d slept. What the hell else does one do at a time like that?
Ahhhh yes, living the fucking dream. If living the dream is spending eternity being born over and over and over again because someone clearly has a twisted sense of humor. Yes, that dream. Not that he needs reminding, for fuck’s sake. Plenty of time for that later.
To be honest, he’s being pretty goddamned useless when she finds him. Total bum, if we’re being that real. But hell, it’s winter. Winter is fucking gross and no one wants to do shit in winter anyway. Except her, apparently. His eyes settle on her the moment she tops a slight rise. How she keeps finding, he has no fucking clue. But he’s not complaining. She’s a delightful little piece. And really, the only one who seems to able to stand his company for more than a day. Or, perhaps more accurately, the only one who’s company he can stand for more than a fucking day.
She slips alongside him, and he chuckles at her dulcet quip. Quite the comedian, isn’t she? Obviously they’re soulmates. Well, soulmates who fuck other people on occasion, but meh, who’s counting. “Look’s like I’m not the only one living dangerously,” he responds dryly as his dark gaze follows the rounded curve of her abdomen. “You’ve been having fun, I see.”
With a wry twist of his lips, he presses closer to her, uncaring that perhaps she’s a little wider than usual. He’s not picky, really. One broad white wing extending out, he drapes it over her back. And it’s totally a purely chivalrous act, because he’s a fucking gentleman. Really. It is absolutely not just to get her closer to him.
