Deals With The Devil's Spawn

Your undying loyalty, and adoration will be enough

"Aww, you two are too adorable," I heard my mom squeal through the thumping in my ears. Winking at me, with a grin, Brayden turned to her. "Okay, I should probably give you the talk."

"Do what you must," he replied, moving our joined hands to rest on his knee. I turned in my seat, and sat stock-still, reminding myself to breathe. Did the guy not know what he was doing to me?

"Okay, here goes," my mom began, sucking in a breath, before masking her smile with a stern look, "if you hurt my daughter, I will chase you to the ends of the world, carve your heart out, and string it on a necklace that she can wear around her neck for the rest of her life."

"Damn, I'm actually kind of scared. That's one of the best threats I've ever heard. I think I need to step up my game," Brayden replied, staring at her in awe. " You have to teach me your ways."

"Oh I would, but that's my only move. And if anything people say about you is to be believed, I don't think you need any help in that department," my mom replied, moving out of her chair. "Which should probably raise some red flags...But...I like you, so we'll see how this goes."

"I'll try my best to keep it that way," Brayden answered, giving her a warm smile.

"Yeah, you better, mister," my mom replied, wagging a finger at him. "Well I'll leave you guys to your studying." And with that she was out of the room.

She'd walked in a few hours before to find textbooks and notebooks spread all over the table. I had no idea when she realized that Brayden and I were 'dating', but decided that we needed to talk. Brayden had been coming over to our house for a couple of ours everyday to tutor me in history, living up to his end of the deal. I wasn't sure which of those days she'd figured it out, but somehow she had.

It wasn't like we spent our tutoring sessions making out, or acting like we were a couple. Because we technically were not. So instead of making out, we'd spent those days with him patiently telling me to focus, and with me constantly reminding him that I was failing history for a reason. He'd roll his eyes at that point and remind me that he was the best fucking tutor to walk on earth and that I should stop doubting him.

I don't know how long we'd spent the last three days trying to work out a system for me to actually grasp what he was trying to teach me. So far, I'd learned the guy had the patience of a saint, knew a lot of unnecessary shit, and that I knew absolutely nothing about history. It didn't matter what we tried, I just wasn't remembering anything, finding it all incredibly boring.

"This is hopeless," I mumbled, starting to lose my resolve, a few hours later. We'd been going at it for hours now, and I was exhausted. And by it, I meant studying. Nothing else. I wasn't exhausted because of anything else. Let's get our minds out of the gutter.

"Must I remind you again, that I am the best fucking tutor to ever walk this earth?" he replied, flipping the history textbook close, and lifting an eyebrow.

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd call you out on how cocky you're being," I muttered from the comfortable spot I'd found on the table to lay my head on.

" You can call me out later, now get your ass up," he replied, getting on his feet, and placing his hands on my arms. Pulling my arms up, I heard him chuckle behind me, when I resisted by snuggling further into the hard table.

"Why?" I asked. "I'm comfortable here."

"Because you're going to show me your paintings." My head snapped up at that, and I turned around to face him with wide eyes. He grinned down at me, and nodded.

"Uh, I don't think that's a good idea," I replied, shaking my head, and swallowing hard.

"Why?" he asked, folding his arms over his chest, and lifting an eyebrow.