the girl and the demon share a bed

It was cathartic.  

Seeing Reem break down was cathartic.

Hearing, smelling, tasting panic was cathartic. It wasn't real. It was and it wasn't. The world beyond the walls of such a dirty, crowded chamber existed somewhere.

The townsfolk had begun to react. 'What happened?' They asked. 'Who did this?' 'Why would they do this?' 'Are you hurt?' 'Does it hurt?' That kind of thing, over and over and over again. All day. Every day. Fear. Anger. People were so, so predictable.

***

Reem's head hurt. Or—well, everything did. But especially her head. It was apt a punishment for her nonsense.

Every now and then, Sionn would hand her tissues. He'd glance at Reem whenever he thought she wouldn't notice. If he spoke again, then she could melt like the dumb bitch she was. That's what he must've thought anyway. So he didn't speak. But he didn't leave, either. Because he was nice. And lonely. And being nice and lonely did terrible things to people.

***

Now he'd used Reem's first-aid kit and world-destroying demon king magic to mend his wounds, Sionn was no longer dying—not that he'd ever been. Healing had always been his fourth-best subject after time-space, spacetime, and botany. Such a miraculous recovery had nothing to do with world-destroying demon king magic. 

What had just happened had not happened yet. Once he left this room, the world would be real again.

Reem remained unwell.

Should he knock her out?

"What?" She asked, since he'd been leering at her from the corners of his eyes.

"I was thinking."

"About..."

"Knocking you unconscious."

"Oh, aight."

***

More silence...

It was her fault for not saying something funny in return...

The chance to do so was right there, but noo, instead of following along, she'd just tilted her head so that her hair would cover her post-cry face because... because... because it was embarrassing dammit.

And now they'd been silent for so long that it'd just seem awkward and stupid to continue the conversation...

What about an innuendo?

...or... yeah, no, maybe not... unless...

***

Lots of panic. Lots of fear. Lots of anger. No grief. No casualties (so far). Assuming they sued SIonn for damages, would it be better to threaten everyone into submission or to acquire lifelong debt?

Life still existed outside the window, and outside the window only.

***

"I also do that."

Sionn did not respond.

"Like. Stare out the window and think bad thoughts. For hours. That's why I chose this corner. It's smaller than the other ones, but it's the only one with a window. So that's why I chose it."

Sionn glanced at her, then remembered Reem faced his left side—the one with the cursed eye—so he turned away quickly. Under a different scenario, Reem would've squeezed his cheeks. "Is that so."

"Yeah. That is so. Why would..." Reem trailed off. While desperate to break this monumentally awkward... whatever this even was, to make fun of him would be unwise given their current circumstances. It wasn't just that he could tear her apart if he sneezed too hard (she'd seen him do this to a wall, after which he covered the crack with duck tape), but also, and more importantly, that she'd CRIED FOR NO REASON. Her face was still swollen. Sionn had heard and seen her wipe her nose. One of her roommates' bras was on the floor and it was bigger than the ones Reem had. Her head hurt. So did her soul. "Why are you still here?"

No response.

"Did you see the bra on the floor?"

He nodded once.

"I was reading a book that said you guys have no libido. That there used to be a government mandate 'cuz demons weren't breeding and you'd only avoided extinction until now because of arranged marriages but since that got outlawed there's an ongoing crisis or something, but for some reason there's this stereotype that demons are very horny pun intended. But I suppose that since you didn't care about the underwear it means that what the book said is true but not the stereotype."

He nodded once.

"Help. There is a demon on my bed."

Nothing.

"Help. There is a man on my bed."

"I shall take my leave soon," he replied. "Just waiting for the illegal concoctions you brought to take effect."

"Oh."

***

Oh.

"Wait. Reem. Were you trying to converse, or to chase me out?"

"Sorry," She said.

Was it so hard to give an actual response...

***

She supposed she could've used a better icebreaker...

***

Why did she have to be so weird?

***

Why did he have to be so weird?

***

"Demons mate for life, allegedly."

"Really?"

"I just said 'allegedly'."

"Whatever."

"Whatever." They said it at the exact same time. Reem, because she was Reem. Sionn, because he wanted to annoy her. (And also to get back at her for doing it earlier.)

"Mhm, if you're soo good at predicting, then guess what I'm gonna say next. Guess."

"Guess."

"Knew it!"

"Aight—fuck."

"HA!" Reem clapped, startling them both. "Sorry. Aight what, though? What did you think I'd say after that?"

"Aight, I see how it is."

"Ah..."

"That's what my guess was."

"I know."

"I find your flighty lexicon difficult to parse."

"No you don't," she said.

"...no, I don't."

"Since you're making fun of me, I'm gonna assume that your mood has improved."

"Yes."

"But not enough to stop with the one-liners..."

"That's true," He said. About the one-liners. What even was the topic? Reproduction? Inter-species mimicry? Racist stereotypes? Why couldn't she be normal and talk about something normal for once?

***

Regardless of species, the only thing Reem could do well when in bed with a man was to make him extremely uncomfortable.

This wouldn't be happening if she hadn't.

Cried.

For.

No.

Reason.

...probably.

To have him around was comforting and torturous. The former was his fault. The latter was her fault. She felt the former. He felt the latter. 

Probably...

"I believe I've read the book you speak of," Sionn told the window. 

"...and..."

"It's not terrible, so long as you don't take it seriously. Its thesis is at odds with itself."

"You mean because the guy says he slept with a hundred demons but also says that demons mate for life and don't actually have a libido? Because if so then yeah. I mean I just thought it was entertaining. But I was wondering how much of it was true. Out of curiosity I mean. Or maybe he has a hundred mates I dunno."

"He did not. Then again, neither demons nor humans are a monolith."

"I guess. I just thought it was romantic kinda."

There it was, the almostlook. Not almost look. Almostlook. "Romantic how?"

"One life, one partner?"

"That sounds more tragic than romantic."

"It's not. To me anyway I mean.  I know some people are fine with trying out different options or whatever but to me it always seemed kind of... I mean...  doesn't that imply that connections are temporary? Then why even have them?"

"Humans are a social species," he replied.

"Mhm, so now we're a monolith."

Sionn smiled. No ice, no theatrics. "I knew you'd say that."

It was disarming.

...and painfully ephemeral. "Regardless, I do believe that to be the case. What you refer to as 'connections' have been proven to be advantageous enough that humans outnumber demons to... what was it... ten thousand to one?"

"That's just how prey and predator ratios work in general. You know, 'cuz of the ecosystem."

"Precisely."

"Still, like you said, neither demons nor humans are monoliths. I don't actually think we're prisoners to our meat suits or whatever. We're born as a certain thing in a certain shape under certain circumstances, but our future itself is uncertain. That's why failure hurts. We're shaped but we also shape if you get it. That's why connections hurt. It's like you take out a piece of yourself to shape someone else but then you never get that piece back. So then I'm just left wondering what happens when you give all of yourself. Like how some people have soo many partners. Surely that means they're not giving anything away right? So then are they actually connecting or just pretending to because... I don't know... never mind, I answered my own question. If you pretend, then you can just not give anything away, so then it won't hurt. And then you can save your pieces for someone that matters. But then how will you know if someone matters if all you do is pretend?"

"Perhaps you cannot. Would you conclude then, that in order to connect, hurting is a necessity?"

Reem swallowed. "Uh."

"...is that a yes or a no..."

"I-I mean. I'm not." She used her hands instead of the hair-curtain to cover her face. "I can't believe you actually listened to that."

"That? You?"

"Yeah."

Then he said the worst thing imaginable. "I always listen to you."

Needless to say, that was also disarming.  "Oh, um. Why?"

He let out a quiet, sharp exhale Reem had come to associate as moon Sionn's pseudo-laughter. "How can you fear, yet yearn to be perceived?"

"...says you."

"Says I."

"You're the king of fear."

"I mean."

"Not in that way. Ugh." She covered her face—with her hands this time. "That's not what I meant."

"Which reminds me. Could I knock you unconscious?"

"...uhh... depends? Will it hurt?"

"Unsure." Reem forgot how to breathe when Sionn brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't be touching you, if that's what you're worrying about," he said as he touched her. "The illegal concoctions should work."

Reem squinted at him from the corners of her TEAR-SWOLLEN eyes. "Joke?"

"No."

"Then what is the context?"

"The context is that I need you unconscious. Shirtless, too, preferably."

While she'd come to understand many of his idiosyncrasies, random turns in conversation (often related to violent acts) was not one of them. (It'd taken weeks for her to stop fearing her demise as a piñata.) "And I say no?"

"You're fired."

Reem stared at Sionn.

Sionn stared at Reem.

"Just tell me what it is."

"If I do, you'll decline."

"So you telling me to strip or I get fired won't make me say no, but the other thing will?"

After a pause, Sionn said, "You're hurt."

"Well, yeah! I said all of that stuff and you just told me to get naked."

"Physically hurt."

"...ah..."

"I'd been meaning to ask you for a while now, but we got... distracted. I don't know, Reem. I told you I listen. I showed you I listen. Both decisions proved to be mistakes."

Reem winced. Being perceived felt more like being pierced. "I... yeah. Maybe. But it's not your fault. Let's just... I mean... it's not your fault."

"That you're hurt? In multiple ways? Then whose fault is it?'

"M-mine?"

Sionn blinked away the scowl. When this failed to work, he closed his eyes, let out a breath, and said, "...sure. As you say. What I'd been meaning to ask you was if I could heal the multiple bruises and micro-fractures I caused, but not only will you say no; you will also deny they exist."

Reem did not fear being perceived. She just hated it.

"..sorry."

"Me too."

"I forgive you."

"Me too." Reem toyed with the collar of her shirt. Right—two of its buttons had been weaponized earlier. "Fine, I'll take it off. Everything hurts just so you know. Like everything. I know you were being weird earlier to get me to agree to this in a roundabout way by the way so don't think that you manipulated me into taking my shirt off if anything I manipulate you to show skin and you don't even notice."

"Of course, Reem. Of course. I'll keep my eyes closed."

"Nope. Don't. Knowing you, you'll claw my innards out by accident."

"Then you can cover yourself with the shirt."

"Aight."

Ignoring all context, to be held like this was nice. As he'd done to himself earlier, Sionn's hand hovered above the affected area to... heal... diagnose... whatever. His other arm held her. It was nice. So nice it scared her. So nice she couldn't chase this away with jokes, or an off-hand remark, or even the fact that if she hadn't been around him, this wouldn't have happened in the first place.

It seemed silly to cover herself since, one, they'd been naked in close proximity once and, two, there was nothing to see. To cry in public was way more shameful anyway. To hurt and be hurt. To hurt while trying not to. To fear anything sweet.

From what she'd read, the homemade potion on the kit was to strengthen healing spells, so there was no need for her to take it. Knowing Sionn, with how he'd referred to it as a 'concoction', he'd probably used himself as a test subject...

"Sionn."

"Yes? Does it hurt?"

"Mhm. What I wanted to say is, uh. You know."

"Me too."

Did he, though?