#adia barnes

The coils of the mattress creaked in protest as the demon sat beside her, and she found herself wondering just how they’d ended up here. They should never have been able to even see each other in the first place, and yet here they were, years later, sitting in a human’s apartment in the Middleworld, and he — smelling faintly of gin — was telling her she was his best friend.

“Overworld,” he was saying now. “Underworld. Middleworld. Otherworld. Take your pick. I’ll pick you every time. I’d do anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know that,” she said. “You’re my best friend too, I guess.”

“You guess? Wow, thanks.”

“I’m only teasing,” she said. “You’re — I don’t know. Something like a best friend.”

“That’s not really any better,” he said. “Sometimes I’m not even sure you like me at all.”

She laughed. “I do like you,” she said. “A lot, actually. You’re… something different. I don’t know. Something special. Is that what happens when you save someone’s life?”

He didn’t answer, but made an odd sort of motion, as though he were about to take her hand in his but thought better of it, and as he quickly looked away to stare at an indistinct spot on the ceiling, it struck her suddenly that, through all the years they’d known each other, they had never touched. Could they touch? They’d never had reason to, really — but it struck her as odd, that in nearly three years of unexpected meetings and impromptu coffees at the local café and, lately, his frequent midnight visits to the tiny apartment she’d been living in, not once could she remember stepping on the heel of his shoe or bumping his elbow or grazing his hand while passing him the sugar. She’d saved his life, but they’d never shared so much as a handshake. For a moment, she wondered if they would just pass through each other like a couple of ghosts, or if they would be able to feel each other — and then she found herself wondering what he felt like, if his blue skin would be warm under her fingers, or if it would be cool to the touch, if his manicured hands were really as soft as they looked, what the grey stubble on his chin at the end of the day might feel like against her cheek, what his lips—

She felt color rush to her cheeks as her train of thought came to an abrupt halt, and she buried her warm face in her hands, thankful that it was dark in the small apartment.

“Adia? Everything okay?”

“Great,” she answered without lowering her hands. She could feel the mattress shift beneath her as he leaned forward to try and see her face through the darkness.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and she could hear the trace of a laugh behind his voice.

“Yep. Great.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

Well aware that he was still looking at her, she kept her eyes firmly shut behind her hands.

“Mm-hmm,” he said. “So what are you thinking about over there that’s suddenly got you so sheepish?”

She cracked one eye open just wide enough to peek at him through her fingers and saw him grinning at her, his grey eyes glinting mischievously in the dim light from the streetlight outside.

“Oh, go on somewhere,” she said, and then they were both laughing as she pulled her hands away from her face to give his chest a light shove.

And suddenly, their laughter died, and a silence passed between them as the they each registered what had happened. Her fingers trembling slightly, she reached out and lightly touched his cheek. He covered her shaking hand with his own steady one and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch for a moment before bringing her hand to his lips and lightly kissing her fingertips.

And the next thing she knew, he had pulled her into his arms and was kissing her — really kissing her — and she was breathing in the heavy scent of his cologne and the gin, and she could feel the scratch of his stubble against her cheek as he nipped at her ear and kissed down her neck, and his fingers wound themselves into her long hair, and—

“Adia?”

Her eyes shot open and the moment was gone, the demon vanishing as soon as the hall light came on. One hand instinctively flew to the back of her head to smooth her hair down as she cleared her throat. “Jason,” she said. “What are you doing up?”

“I thought I heard you talking to someone,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he peered blearily around the room, confirming no one else was in the apartment. “Must’ve been a dream. Did I wake you?”

“No.”

Jason gave up on rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawned hugely. “Well, good night again, then…” He turned and shuffled back down the short hallway to the apartment’s only bedroom, pausing just long enough to click off the hall light and plunge the apartment back into darkness.

No sooner had the light gone out than Adia felt the mattress sink beside her and one of Taz’s hands intertwine with her own. “You’re something special,” he said, and kissed her again, gently this time.