O FORM OF MAN...

@hraunwyf   //  continued. 

   this sort of solemnity from  etrigan   was  certainly strange,   but it wasn’t necessarily something that one would put past  from  the royalty  from  hell  ( despite being the unruliest  son  of  belial. )    loki’s  words,  the way her words so perfectly  went in tandem with his,   turned  etrigan’s  lips  upward  and seemed to  relieve  some  tension  weighing him down.    this question that he was  longing to ask  was something he had  realized  would change the  scope  of the  rest of  his  long sentence  on  earth  ...     and  for  once,    the demon found himself  a  tad  anxious.   after a  moment,   the  sonnet  began. 

 “since the day we first joined hands, I perceived thee to be mine thine eyes enchanting, uplifting a rotten heart and soul -- our forces together, our stars and planets aligned to coax thy lips into a smile is the demon’s only goal.” 

 and  he was   smiling,   revealing pointed teeth,  raising a  hand  to  tenderly  tuck  a raven curl  behind  her  ear  with his  large,   brutish  claw.  an  unnaturally  kind and  soft  gesture  for the  gruesome demon. 

“many years have passed lifeless, hopeless in vain wrists and ankles in chains, freedom far from his sight; the Earth inflicted on him insurmountable pain but thy hand and thy speech hath restored his might. with thy beauty and thy guile, thy wit and thy power I long for our sides to never again be parted more. of this eternity I have – every day, every minute, every passing hour I believe thou’rt my purpose, the one I’m here for. “

and finally  he  lowered  himself  down  on  one  knee,   hands  still  clasped  in  hers,   red eyes  looking up at her  with  the  same sort of  light,  excitable red eyes    he  had  borne  ever  since the  day that they met.    he brought out a  small ring  of  sleek  silver,    of  medieval  looking  origins.   now that the poem was coming to a close,  he seemed more  confident.   more  hopeful.    it was not often he had hope. 

“Oh that’s right. You are one of them non flying demons. Sorry for your loss, EG.”

    arms cross over his chest as he looks up at boston in supreme unhappiness, red gaze trained  disdainfully on  his  red form.   “ brand,   i swear,  when thou getst down    here   --   for thy words,  i’ll give thee something to fear ! “   he  snarls.   “  you irritate me,   you and your wandering soul   --   thou’rt  an  anomaly in the  scheme of  hell’s goal. “

Suddenly, he can feel everything in perfect detail. The touch to his face, warm and tingling, the other body against him, gravity pushing them together, he feels all of it. Jim closes his eyes, leaning into the feeling, and when they open again they are a perfect, human blue. Human, for a moment; and within that moment, he realizes there was nothing he could deny him. He would end the world on his command, spare the devil himself if he so desired. He couldn’t do a thing against him, even if he tried. All the lost love, the love that wasn’t real, the love that went away, none of it matters. They led up to this. That’s all that matters.

His delayed response is not hesitation, but rather he was struck dumb by the other man’s words. Yet, when he opens his mouth, he knows exactly what he’s going to say. He puts a hand to Jason’s face, making sure he’s looking at him when he speaks.

“You have me, Jason. Until you don’t want me, you have me.”

  YOU’LL HAVE TO FORGIVE HIM,   jim.   you’ll have to forgive the raw look in his brown  eyes   (because who has ever loved him?  all of him and the things he carried?  who had ever looked at him like that?   who had ever been there?),   the way his expression seems to slacken when he looks into your human eyes. and jason would quite literally want to  kick himself for this later,   but he found himself getting a little   teary.    he holds his gaze solidly,   yes;  rests a hand against the one cupping his cheek,   yes.   but jim’s words overwhelm him when he realizes  the reality,  the truth,   the perfection of their love.    the way that they were really in this and things would never be different.  

tears were not brimming his brown eyes because he was sad.   the smile that began to curve his lips upward as he turned his hand in order to kiss jim’s palm would deny that,   a  beautiful,  perfect tear sliding down his pale cheek.  he was crying because in all of his centuries,    this was the best thing he’d ever been blessed with.   perhaps the only thing.   it wasn’t often that he was nearly speechless due to gratitude,   but now was one of those times.  for a moment,   all the world was was just  jason blood and  james  corrigan,   intertwined together in their  home.  just them and their hearts beating in tandem. 

  AS HE BRINGS THE  drink up to his lips,  for a moment,  jason’s eyes seem to lose focus when  jim’s words hit his ears.   did it hurt?  maybe he couldn’t really tell anymore,  since becoming engulfed in flame and suddenly not physically existing anymore  had been a thing he’d done  monthly  (sometimes weekly)  for all of the centuries  that he’d been  alive.   he adjusted himself in the comfortable seat,  set the glass of wine down,   rested his chin in the palm of his hand while  humming contemplatively,   digging in the vast expanse of memories he carried in an attempt to really remember the  sensation.   it happened so often,  it felt as natural as  breathing or sneezing or something like that.   it was tough to put words to something that you’d just  accepted as normal so long ago.

“ …  yes,   i suppose it  does  hurt?  i mean,  i  remember  it really hurting  the first time we did it,  but i think one can mainly chalk that up to  surprise,  since,  you know …   my body  was  literally on fire.”   jason answers,  his tone seeming more  academic  than  casual,  as if he was talking about one of his  paranormal phenomena  as opposed to an extremely  personal  matter.   “but now,   it’s hard to think of it as painful.  it happens so often,   it’s more of a normal thing  that  i’ve accepted.   i’d say the more painful thing  is  when   he  swaps out  with me  as opposed to vice versa,   because i always feel  awfully dizzy,  and he seems to make a point to dump me in a place i very much do not want to be. like in a pile of trash or rocks.”  voice dripping with sarcasm,  he murmured into the rim of his glass: “he’s quite considerate that way.”