See You in Hell [PIP X DAMIEN] [DISCONTINUED]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: PIP'S POV

TW: SLIGHT BLOOD AND VIOLENCE

The eighth circle.
Pip was meant to be in the eighth circle.
Everyone in South Park was going to the eighth circle, and for what? Sure, other kids and some adults have been mean to Pip, but he wasn't sure they deserved that much of a punishment. Pip scooted closer to Damien, who was looking at the scorched ribbons of wallpaper that peeled from the drywall. His expression was irritated and regretful, his thick eyebrows wrinkling the skin above his nose.
Pip didn't ask what Damien meant when he said that everyone in South Park was going to one of the most dangerous circles. He had many questions, like why it was decided that they all belonged there without any second chances, but he still didn't pry. Instead, Pip managed to pay attention to how obvious Damien was uncomfortable complaining about his personal life and about his father.
His father had all that power and didn't use it for it's purpose. Damien envied that power and would've put it to good use if it were him. And his father obviously didn't care enough about his son, who cared so much about Hell. Though, in Satan's defense, he is Satan. The fallen angel who is known for being unfair. But that still wasn't a good enough excuse.
Pip placed a reassuring hand on Damien's arm, the warmth from Damien's skin making even the cloth of his turtleneck radiate with unworldly heat. Damien was yanked from his charred-wall staring stupor and blinked at Pip's hand before trailing his eyes to Pip's face. Pip gave him a bright smile to show he was unaffected by the information, because right now he was with Damien, not burning in the eighth circle, which he was grateful for. And he was sure that the two of them could convince Satan to do his job. How hard could that be?
Damien's cheeks flushed red the longer he stared at Pip's face, slack-jawed with his lips parted slightly. Pip could feel his skin growing increasingly hot in seconds, and Pip had to yank his hand away before it would burn him.
"Oh dear, you're starting to burn up, are you alright??" Pip asked. In human standards, Damien's fever would make normal people's blood scorch their organs from the inside out. Damien looked away and coughed dramatically into his fist.
"Yes, I'm fine, just.... ate something spicy." He muttered, unsure of his own words. Pip didn't think he knew how spicy foods worked. Or any food at all, for that matter; since Pip hadn't seen him eat anything ever since Pip met him in the mortal world.
Then, seemingly on cue, Damien's shoulder caught fire.
Pip jumped from the bed at once, yelping and panicking. Damien didn't seem to mind the fire; he simply continued to sit on the bed, eyeing the fire curiously. Pip frantically began looking around the room for something to put out the fire, heavily considering sacrificing the comforter, when Damien lifted a hand and brushed it out like dirt that simply happened to fall on his shoulders. Damien turned his gaze back to Pip, narrowing his eyes and smirking.
"What, never seen a boy burst into flames before?" He said with sly humor Pip had never heard from him before. Pip returned his smile, shaky as it was, but it was genuine.
"No, I don't suppose I have."
Damien's smile wavered as he tried not to burst into laughter, but the mask cracked soon after it was put on, and he ended up wheezing on the floor.
"By GOD, you should have seen the look on your face!!" He roared, his back rolling over the raggedy rug, holding his arms tight to his stomach and kicking his legs in the air with ecstasy.
Pip let him laugh, embarrassed as he was, since he was the butt of the joke. He stood there and smiled, happy to see that Damien was no longer acting nice or being distant. Ever since they arrived at the motel, they've been having unmasked, nice conversations that couldn't be anything else but genuine. And now here Damien was, laughing like all was right in the world. Pip started laughing with Damien, enjoying the moment for what it was instead for what might be ahead of them.

All the lights were off now as Pip and Damien got ready to settle in for the night. Well, Pip was getting ready to settle for the night. Pip didn't know what Damien would do while he slept. Hopefully not kill the motel owner. The poor guy was just getting by, by the looks of it.
Pip placed his hat, suit, and brown bowtie on the nightstand, left with nothing but a white button-up, blue shorts and purple stockings on his person. He then pulled himself into a cocoon of sheets and comforters, sighing and realizing just how tired he was. But no matter how tired he may be, he was restless under the presence of Damien's sharp eyes stabbing him in the back. Pip tried his best to ignore it, but he couldn't close his eyes and could feel his back growing uncomfortably warmer by the second, like Damien's eyes had the ability to radiate heat. Pip flipped over to turn towards the demon boy, being careful to not lose his cocoon of fabric.
"Damien? Do you have to stare at me?"
".... Who is else is going to watch over you?"
"Well, no one, I suppose. But 'watching over' doesn't necessarily mean actually staring at someone."
"Hmm." Damien hummed, reluctantly feigning agreement. But instead of arrogantly staring at Pip, he sat crisscrossed on the floor, his legs folded over each other. He closed his eyes and relaxed his brows, seeming to be asleep but Pip was sure he was just in deep thought.
   "Good night, Damien." Damien didn't respond, but the twitch in his jaw proved he heard him.
Pip sighed and closed his eyes with finality. He fell into a deep sleep within seconds, where a dreamless sleep awaited him with open arms.

Pip awoke to the slamming of the front door of the suite. Pip rose groggily with sheet-tangled limbs, rubbing his eyes at the demon boy who stood at the door.
Damien stood regally in the front door; any surface of skin that showed coated with scarlet. Any spot of blood visible on his clothes could only be seen by light; a brownish tinge to his deep black garments. Pip stared with lazy eyes at Damien as he started putting two and two together in his sluggish mind.
".... You didn't happen to have killed the owner, did you?" Pip's words slurred with sleep.
"Yup."

END OF CHAPTER THIRTEEN