the girl unbuttons her shirt for a big scary demon

He'd said five minutes.

Half an hour later, Reem finished exploring the stand. She would've purchased a cute frilly button-down she found, but there was a big scary demon at the dressing room, and she lacked the courage (or money) to buy anything without trying it on. Fortunately, no other customer had asked to use the stall. Yet.

Reem didn't ask the obvious.

'Are you alright?'

'Can I help?'

'Does it hurt?'

Reem asked nothing, for she would get nothing in response. Besides, she already knew the answers: no, no, yes. 

When the hushed, pained gasps ceased and newly-grown claws stopped disgracing the poor stall, Reem punted the cape under the curtain, plus a red shirt. It might have been wishful thinking, but she could swear she'd heard a snort. "Mr. Demon?" She tried, to no avail. "Sionn?"

"Ms. Human."

...and there it was, the eerie echo behind his words. Reem pinched her arm. 

Bad.

Stop.

He could smell fear now.

She should not be afraid, or... she should, but... 

"Too small."

Reem jumped. She had to stop. Stupid. Bad. Was he not the same as the one who laughed at childish innuendos and winked as a greeting? One was the sun, the other the moon, but did the latter not reflect the light from the former?

"I meant the shirt," he said. "The cape is fine. Could you please leave?"

She swallowed. If her tongue stopped working again, it was over. He'd probably smelled her fight or flight response activating against her will already. "Nnn... no."

He groaned. "Reem, not now. Piss off."

"Give. Hand. Gimme."

Silence. 

The owner of the stand was napping on a couch that was probably meant to be merchandise. A sign next to him said: WAKE UP IF NEEDED. MERCHANDICE ENCHANTED. STEAL AND U R BALD. Aside from Sionn, Reem, and some girl in pajamas who boldly rejected the concept of underwear, the stand was otherwise deserted. 

Sionn wrongly assumed that Reem would leave if he ignored her for long enough. She should've complied, maybe . Common sense, instinct and what little social intelligence she had left told her—implored her to do so.

The braless girl wandered to the dressing room, carrying a literal stack of clothes on her shoulder. Reem, who sat on a chair (that was also merchandise), told her, "It's occupied."

"It's been occupied for almost an hour now."

"...yeah..."

"I gotta try these on."

"Busy," Sionn spoke, which startled the girl. She didn't know what it was yet, but something told her to leave. That same something made rabbits flee, tigers hiss, humans act stupid and hurtful. Reem watched this with detached, unwarranted superiority. 

But then the girl replied: "Well, you've been busy for too long. Don't make me wake up the old man."

Oh, the poor thing. 

A pale claw pushed the curtain aside, revealing a demon so tall that he had to slouch so his horns wouldn't scrape the roof. Using a black cape as a cocoon, Sionn walked out, with the same cold gaze, rigid gait, and an aura so oppressive that it legitimately became hard to breathe around him. His braid was no longer golden, but a blond so pale that it almost looked silver.

And of course, there was the mark. Knowing Sionn, his glance at Reem with the cursed eye was a conscious decision. Something like you shall give me hope no more, worm or maybe, I know I'm being dramatic but I actually want you to follow me please read my mind please. It was hard to tell.

On his way out, he left a check at the counter. Reem had paid already, so she scurried after him.

It wouldn't take long for Sun's Edge to awaken. Anticipating this, a few food stands sizzled and sang. Sourdough biscuits, chewy bowls of red, salted meat, all made of things that found humans scary because humans ate them. Reem's mouth watered at the scent.

Sionn winced, taking his claw to his black eye. He squinted. Lord or not, cursed or not, to a demon's eyes, the sunlight at noon was like getting swarmed by fireflies. "Should've gotten a hat," Reem told him.

Reflexively, almost, he stayed under the shade of the saloons as they walked. "I'll make a hat out of your skin."

"Scawy."

"Go away."

"Give hand." Reem held out hers. She'd flinch if he touched her; they both knew. "Gimme. Close your eyes. My apartment isn't that far away. I'll take you there so we can, you know."

There it was—he clearly bit back a smile. There it was. "Is that so..."

"Yeah. I mean so we can stay there until nighttime but not to do anything bad just to stay there and be nice because of the sun I mean."

"Be nice in what sense?"

"Nice in the sense that we're just going to my house to spend the day together but not in that way sheesh you're so childish stop smiling."

He did. Immediately. Sionn walked ahead.

...she was a DUMBASS.

To be fair, Sionn didn't stay behind; he seemed to have forgotten what species he was, so as soon as he walked out of the shade, he grimaced. But then he kept walking anyway. Where to? Come to think of it, why didn't he just stop time or do his jump-flights or something? Was he still unwell?

Sick and tired of chasing after him, Reem pretended to trip. For realism's sake, she stumbled onto her ankle. She stamped herself on the dirt road. 

He stopped. He could smell pain. She might've gone a bit too far with the realism.

Squinting, Sionn glanced at her. Instinct, common sense and his marginally less terrible social intelligence told him to ignore her. So of course he did the opposite. 

The problem was that she REALLY didn't expect him to pick her up like a potato sack. As he slung her over his shoulder, Sionn asked, "Where is your house?"

He was still burning up. That was the first thing Reem thought about, followed by oh, dear, I hope I'm not too sweaty. "Hfff... whuh... put me down!"

"Make me."

Which was when she noticed they weren't alone.

People stared.

Passersby. Vendors.

Scared humans.

"Reem," Sionn muttered, "Could you reach into my breast pocket for something?"

"For..."

"An amber rock."

He began to walk.

"By the way, act distressed."

He was putting on a show due to looming hunters. Again. Didn't those guys have anything better to do? Like collecting shiny rocks from secondhand stores? To act distressed while slipping her hand beneath her captor's cape was indecorous, but she digressed. She really hoped she didn't reek—in more than one way. How did embarrassment smell like? Knowing Sionn, he probably got off on it. Shaming maidens. But then again, she was a toy more than a woman to him. That was fine. All was f—

Reem froze when, as she slipped her hand beneath his cape, she touched bare skin and not a shirt. "Ah," he said. "Forgot. I took it off so I wouldn't tear it."

"Aaaaaa..."

"You scream in lowercase. Act more distressed. Also, take a button off your shirt."

"NO!?"

"Then you shall be my weapon."

That wasn't the threat he thought it was. "Whatever."

To be fair, Reem wasn't... she'd already... to be embarrassed about touching bare skin was ridiculous at this point in her life. 

Besides, Sionn was so... nonchalant. 

About everything.

As far as she knew, demons laughed, cried, scowled, and cowered the way other sentient species did. There was no reason for human Sionn to be as expressive as his demon self was not. Could it be the curse?

Reem snapped a button off her blouse, then handed it to him. She didn't flinch when their fingers brushed. Neither did he.

"Hold still."

While he aimed at a monster only he could see, Reem held... wait... was he going to use her button as a—

Sionn hurled it.

The dirt below them flared; pebbles rose, then fell. 

Nearly windows broke.

Buildings rattled.

Reem felt the shockwave before she heard it. Where her eardrums should've exploded because the demon lord holding her hostage had just hurled a button at hypersonic speed, there a faint hum instead. Those around them screamed, running for cover. None of them covered their ears.

"Yow!" A girl who hadn't been there an instant ago twirled in the air. Said girl was the librarian. She landed far more gracefully than Sionn or Reem could ever aspire to. Blood trickled out of the newly-acquired wound on her shoulder; how it hadn't shattered on impact was anyone's guess. "Ow..."

Sionn actually staggered due to recoil. How his arm muscles didn't tear was anyone's guess. Demon physiology was quirky. "Hilda."

The demon librarian laughed, a bit breathlessly. "This did not go as expected."

"What are you doing?"

"This." Upon twirling into the air again, she vanished. 

***

The gunslinger supposed it was his turn now.