Tell Me Ariel, Are You Mine?

Chapter 16 - Fireline

It was easier to sit here and banter a bit after a hug that shook him up a little and had him talking like it never happened than say why it did. His need to hug me was a step too far. I noticed. A little more than just having sex. I guess he didn't want to lose sight of himself again. He had to remind himself of who he was. It seemed he couldn't afford to forget it, so he became resolute again.

This room, usually cosy, fell into the quiet details neither of us would say out loud where his thoughts were his and mine were mine. We neither shared however many we had or what they were. I wasn't sure he was down for talking. Not after what still hung over us. I ate in silence for a moment.

"If you're not a fallen angel, what are you?" I spoke into my food, tentative with how that came out and unsure he would answer.

Dante, my not so hard liquor to his mouth, took another speedy swallow because it was no where near his usual taste of human-death strong, and put the glass down.

"A demon," he replied.

"I know that."

"Apparently not."

"A demon who didn't fall to become one?" Still quiet, "How were you made if not like that?"

Dante sighed. "It's a long story."

"I have time." I rushed that out far too eager.

He dared a look after my abrupt response, almost taken by surprise as his hand froze over the bottle before he could lift it. Deciding against drinking it for now, he left it where it was, "I don't know if you have that kind of time but uh, to put it as simply as possible," he took a breath first. "I was born of a demon who was born of the First Fires."

As soon as he said that my heart sped up a teensy bit. It was weird. For the first time since finding out and this put the scare in my heart.

"Makes it real, doesn't it?" Dante said watching me. "All this hell on earth stuff."

Short answer? Yes.

There was no way to know what the First Fires meant unless he elaborated. There's no scripture on that, not that I knew of. Dante caught my eyes and I returned mine to my food for a moment. Just a sec and I'd be ready. I soon wondered if I'd ever be.

You know what? Stuff it. Instantly, I dropped my fork in my food. "Here, gimme that bottle."

But it was out of my reach before my fingers could flex around it. Dante drew it back hand-clutching quick.

"I'm not too keen on having you passed out or dead yet, Magpie. Give me half the chance and I might be if you try that again."

He wasn't having it one bit. He kept it from me. "Remember, you asked. Curious to know whether I fell out of the sky, wings on fire et al." He mocked the concept. At some point I'd imagined him like that and couldn't figure out how that wasn't his beginning.

Thinking about it, I took hold of my fork again, breathing long for a couple breaths before I got myself together again like Humpty Dumpty would pat me on the back.

"So," I said into my food, "you didn't then." Twirling several strands around my fork.

"Never even had wings."

Neither of us could tell how this would affect anything moving forward. In silence, we both sat, me to the sound of my carefully mulled-over mouthfuls, him to the sound of a pouring bottle.

I hesitated on what I should say next, repeatedly looking at him, which he clocked when he caught me doing it. So, on second thought, as he tired of my never-ending glances with no words, he put the bottle back down to get this over with like it was now or never.