The Struggles of Dating a Demon [Completed]

Anger

Quirking a small smile at his usual demanding behavior, Mabel rolled her eyes fondly. "Sure thing, boss."

"I do not joke," he reiterated sternly, "You must be safe." To most, it would sound like a demand, and it was, but there was an underlying note of pleading in Aleron's voice, and Mabel felt her heart melt a little.

She pulled her hand down from his hair to stroke his jaw, "I know, Al. I will be safe, I promise. Okay?"

He huffed, shoulders slumping with acceptance. "Yes. Now sleep, Little One. I cannot have you falling asleep when you are supposed to be working."

Mabel's laugh was muffled when he pulled her into his chest, leaning them both back down to the bed and stroking his fingers down her sides.

***

Mabel sighed when she turned on the news Saturday night and saw the headline:  Another Lifeless Criminal Found: Who is Safe from 'Death'?

Drumming her fingers on her thigh, she grimaced when they showed pictures of the man's body. It wasn't anything too gruesome (she'd have to thank Aleron for going easy on the guy, later), but Mabel had a weak stomach when it came to injuries.

"Little One," Mabel squealed at the unexpected voice, unable to catch herself when she plummeted off the couch, landing with a thud on the floor of her apartment. Aleron was by her side in the next instant, concern and amusement warring in his features. "Are you alright?" He practically demanded, scooping her up and replacing her on the couch. "I am sorry—I did not mean to scare you."

Mabel laughed, waving off his worries. Besides some minor embarrassment, she was fine. "I think we need to talk about this whole 'I can transport and scare the crap out of you' thing, Al. I'm not sure how much more my health can take."

Upon completing his scan of her body and ensuring that everything was intact, Aleron settled beside her, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I should have considered that you scare easier than a mouse, Little One. I apologize again."

Mabel's mouth dropped open. "Excuse me?!" she shoved him away halfheartedly, trying to keep a smile from her face (it was surprisingly easy to date him, even if he was a murderous demon from Hell). "A 'mouse'? You can leave, now, I think." She turned away from him, an exaggerated pout on her lips.

There was a beat of silence, and then Aleron picked her up, spun her back around, and settled her on his lap. "Hello," he greeted, tilting his head to give her a kiss.

When they pulled away, Mabel finally let her grin show. "All right," she conceded, kissing his cheek. "You are forgiven for your rudeness."

Aleron's returning smile was wicked. "Thank you, Little Mouse."

"Oh, shut up!"

***

"It is almost time," Aleron admitted only several days later, when they were settled on a bench beside the park's pond.

Mabel didn't have to ask to what he was referring; it went without saying that Herman's soul was growing darker with each passing day. Mabel had noticed a palpable difference in the air that surrounded her boss lately—an aura that made her anxious.

Gone were Herman's smiles and easygoing ways, replaced by terse responses, wicked grins, and dark expressions. If this was what happened when someone's soul grew black with wickedness, then she never wanted to see it occur again. She told Aleron exactly that, and he sighed with pity, placing a comforting hand on her knee and rubbing slow circles there.