Temptation 6

 Hizashi was extremely careful around Elly after his conversation with the Shota. He tried to take the time to analyze his feelings while he lay in bed at night, but could never quite bring himself to admit why he <i>stayed</i> if she seemed <i>safe</i>. His mission had been to protect her from the demon, but the demon wasn't harming her.

Yet she still needed protection in general, right?

His mind spun theories round and round, both complex and irritatingly simple. Suffice it to say he was even more confused now that he was questioning his motives. Angels weren't supposed to desire things, and he technically had everything he needed. But his human body betrayed him, and more than once he caught himself wondering what it would be like. A few times he switched back, wings and all, and found the craving still there somehow.

He was stuck. Now he was forced to figure out what his best course of action should be. His training said suffer rather than sin, but his mind and heart craved what he wasn't supposed to have.

Days later his head was still spinning when Elly appeared before him with two plates of warm pie with ice cream on top. They were sitting at the kitchen table since Shota was still snoring loudly on the couch, wrapped up in the quilt with his face pressed into the cushions. Elly made an offhand comment that it looked uncomfortable as hell, and Hizashi chuckled.

"He would know."

"Ha!" She offered him a plate.

"What's this, your newest creation?" He took it and inhaled deeply. "That smells really good."

"Just took it out of the oven." She smiled at him. "It's cherry pie. I added a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top, too."

"Wow," he hummed, enthusiastic after his first taste. "This is really delicious!" He wolfed down a few bites before Elly stopped him with a gentle hand on his.

"You managed to get it on your mustache," she giggled. "Here, I'll get it for you."

Hizashi's eyes opened wide and he stayed very still. His heart beat crazily in his chest and his first thought was, <i>I didn't know it could still do that</i>! Her fingers brushed the dollop of cream off his mustache and then they were gone, but she was still close enough that he could see the wrinkling around her eyes as she smiled. His breath caught in his throat and he reached out, cupping her chin in one hand. Surprised, she looked up at him and when he realized how close they were he blushed deeply and jerked back to his side of the table.

"Thanks," he said shyly, dropping his head.

"Uggghhh," came a low groan to their left. Shota had woken up and was shuffling into the kitchen.

"What's up with you today?" Elly asked.

"Just a quick nap before work." He yawned, pouring a cup of coffee.

"That wasn't quick," Hizashi pointed out. "You were asleep when Elly got up. We couldn't sit on the couch!"

"Are you okay?" Elly asked worriedly. "Demons don't get sick, do they?"

Shota laughed, the sound suspiciously without humor. "Nah. I'm fine. Is that pie?" He took hold of her hand that still had ice cream on the finger and sucked it off, lapping at the fingerpad without dropping his gaze. Elly gasped, staring at her finger long after he'd pulled back.

He took a calm sip of his coffee and seemed to be more invigorated. "Good stuff," he muttered.

Hizashi frowned as they left for work, sizing the demon up. He did seem like he was sleeping more, and he hadn't seen him transform or use any powers for weeks.

Odd.

Back at the supermarket, things were the same as always. Her coworkers continued to try to pick the best totes and boxes, determined to show their boss Elly was a lazy worker. She knew she already had a disadvantage and tried to work harder and harder every night. The strain from this would have been great on anyone, let alone someone that was already facing mental problems.

Tonight was no exception. The women had taken bits and pieces out of pallets that were stacked very high due to the upcoming holidays. The result was the integrity of the shrink-wrapped towers was highly compromised. As Elly wearily tugged at them to get her share of work, the stack shuddered and some heavy boxes fell. She swore as one clipped her arm, tearing a fair amount of skin off in the process. Blood splattered and she winced.

Shota was keeping an eye on her coworkers, who were snickering about some plan they were going to enact later. His attention was heavily divided and he felt more than heard her pain when she cried out. He spun about and paused briefly to access the situation. Unfortunately, those few seconds were all that was needed for a bigger accident to occur. More boxes and the heavier plastic totes tumbled and fell, landing on Elly, who yelped in shock and pain. The demon immediately launched himself at her, crawling over the items already fallen and shielding her from the rest which followed. Once they were empty, the wooden frames themselves were the last thing to fall and clatter noisily onto the mess.

The two women screamed in horror and everyone in the stockroom or near it rushed in to help. Underneath the piles, Shota was heaving with all his might to create a barrier of protection for his mistress so she wouldn't be crushed to death. He struggled to find the strength, cursing sulfurously, repeatedly, all the while panicking that he hadn't gotten there in enough time to shield her from the full brunt of the danger.

"Hang in there, mistress," he pleaded. "You're gonna be okay!"

She heard him and coughed lightly. "Shota..?"

"Elly! Elly, are you okay?"

Voices were yelling at her, hands reaching out to pull her from the rubble. She must have passed out, because when she opened her eyes she was seated on a bench in the store with the night manager holding his phone. She had gauze wrapped around several limbs and a wet towel pressed to her side. It took her several long seconds before she realized the wetness was blood.

"No ambulance," she said firmly. There was no way she could afford a ride in one of those.

"You have to be taken care of," the manager insisted.

<i>Tell him you'll text your boyfriend to come get you</i>. The voice was Shota's, though he remained invisible. She swallowed and asked for her phone.

"I'll text my boyfriend," she husked. "He'll come."

It was devastating to have to wait a long enough time until he could see her again, but he had to make it seem as though he drove to get her. He simply left, waited, then materialized near her car. Shota ran up to the doors, his face twisted in fear. He didn't have to fake panic, since he'd seen how injured she was first hand. "Elly? <i>Where is she</i>?!"

The manager let him in though it was a breach of protocol, and he rushed to where a group of people were handing her ice packs and holding useless bandaids in their hands. He choked when he saw her and dropped to his knees so they could be at eye level.

"Shota," she whimpered in relief.

"Where does it hurt? Can I pick you up?"

During this exchange her coworkers were staring dumbfounded at the man that she had said was her boyfriend. He was dressed in a black tank top that showed off his upper body, the muscles rippling as he lifted her with ease. Blood dripped onto his jeans and on his top from the wound in her side, but he didn't care. He hadn't bothered to tie his hair back, and his long, shiny black locks seemed to shimmer under the bright artificial lighting as he tossed them back to see her better.

The ladies were stunned.

They were amazed.

They were writhing on the inside in a seething, roiling mass of jealousy.

"He <i>can't</i> be her boyfriend," one whispered to the other.

Shota couldn't help brushing some of her bloodied, sticky hair back and kissing her softly in front of everyone. "It's okay, baby," he told her. "I'll make it okay."