Demon Turned Lover [BxB]

Smell of forgiveness

        The comforting smell of bananas hugged my nostrils, making me walk not into the kitchen, but into old memories. It reminded me of Kallista, who had sewed that smell into my nose with her sweet banana bread. Mikkel and I would always fight over who got the last slice whenever she brought some over—only for Arlo to eat it.

        "I smell something good," I said as I approached the granite island where the raven-haired was sitting, my mouth, in the wink of an eye, salivating at the sight. Slices of slightly-holed banana bread were on top of each other on a white plate, like a line of fallen dominos. There were two bowls of oats with blueberries sprinkled on top, waiting beside the bread. I wasn't the biggest fan of oats, but that didn't mean I wouldn't eat them—and how could I not, when Mammon put so much effort into making it?

        "I know it isn't much. I didn't really have time to make anything else," he disclosed, tapping his fingers on his nape.

         "Are you kidding? It's plenty. I mean it smells, and looks great."

         "You think? My baking skills are...kinda' rusty."

         "That doesn't matter, they're definitely better than mine." I sat down on the kitchen stool beside him, taking in the view once more before picking up the dull spoon splattered by oats. God, I hadn't had oats in such a long time. I placed a spoonful of the oats into my mouth—it tasted the same as I remembered, bland. Though, the burst of blueberries made up for the insipid taste. But bland or not, I didn't mind. I was more than slaked with the fact that he thought about me when making it, especially since we had a falling-out yesterday. "It tastes good...Mammon"

         "Yeah."

         After his cold reply, I was stuck in a pattern—glancing at him and then a morsel of oats. I was hoping that my eyes would somehow ask him to address the elephant in the room, because I didn't want to be the one to do it. It wasn't due to me being in a fret over his possible response, but because I didn't want to confront him again. Mammon had made it clear that he didn't want to have this conversation again, and I was in accord with that yet, I didn't want to leave this topic on such a sour note, for his sake. I knew that he needed a form of closure. In a way, I was still a bystander in his life, and I didn't know what happened in his past, or in the gang. And lo, I would only be able to help with a tiny bit; a lot of the healing Mammon needed, had to come from himself. One must be his own shepard before taking care of sheep.

        "I'm sorry."

        My eyes widened as soon as I was able to process what he had just said, "What?"

       "For yesterday. I didn' mean to be a bastard, Luka. I panicked and...I just didn't want you to see me as some monster," the raven-haired added. "I've been meanin' to leave for a while now, but I never really had the courage...I guess."

        Hooking my hand under the seat, I moved closer to him before embracing him, embosoming with my lightweight arms. "I'm proud of you Mammon...and I'm sorry. I don't think of you as a monster, and you shouldn't think of yourself as one either. We all make mistakes you know. As long as you...repent, everything will be okay."

        Mammon pinned his forehead against my shoulder as he reciprocated the hug. It felt surreal having his head on my shoulders. Only a day had passed, yet it felt like we hadn't had contact in months. I placed my hand on his black hair, listening to his calm breathing. Finally, our relationship—if you could even call it that—was taking a step forward in the right direction. I ran my hand through his wispy hair, and that was when I remembered something he had said.

        The raven-haired said he didn't have the courage to leave, but that didn't make sense to me. He was a demon with benumbing strength, who could subdue any mortal with obvious ease; cower they would before him.