Demons, Witches, and Toads (BoyxBoy)

The Romance Extraordinaire

"I really don't think this is going to work," Wheeler murmured as the three stood huddled together, hidden behind a large willow tree at the edge of campus.

"Are you kidding me? My plan is foolproof," the demon snapped. "She's boy crazy and I'm a good looking boy. Do the math."

Wheeler and Priscilla exchanged a long glance.

The demon's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I don't know," Wheeler said slowly. "It's just that for this to work you need to actually make her fall for you which might be kinda difficult..."

"Why?" The demon barked. "I'm attractive."

"Yeah," Priscilla said, "but to get a girl like Violet you have to be charming."

"And sweet," Wheeler pointed out.

"And suave."

"And considerate!"

"And you're...well...none of those things," Priscilla said. "You're just kind of rude and mean all the time."

Mister Pumpernickel croaked in agreement from Wheeler's shoulder.

"Wow. Okay. Good to know you all think so highly of me." The demon straightened his jacket, shooting Priscilla a pointed glance. "Like you're even one to talk. Have you even managed to talk to the girl you like?"

Priscilla's shoulders sagged, her cheeks going pink. "Well...no. But I'll work up the courage eventually."

"Great," Mulock replied dryly. "Maybe someone can wheel me out of the nursing home for elderly cats by the time that finally happens." The demon crossed his arms, letting out a low huff. "But whatever, complain all you want. You're both going to be singing my praises once I pull this off flawlessly."

"Speaking of," Priscilla exclaimed, tugging on Wheeler's sleeve, "there she is!"

Mulock smirked, smoothing back his hair. "Alright, watch and learn from the romance extraordinaire."

Wheeler and Priscilla's hands instantly flew to their mouths to muffle the explosion of giggles caused by the demon's words. Mulock glared at them.

"Oh ha ha. Laugh away," he snapped. "Just know in the end I'll be the one with the last laugh." And with that he slipped out from behind the tree.

"Does he always talk like either a disgruntled old man or an evil villain?" Priscilla whispered.

"Yeah, pretty much."

They peaked their heads out from behind the tree now, eager to witness the disaster Mulock's plan was likely about to become.

Violet was making her way past the trees, the setting sun catching in her raven hair, causing it to glisten.

"I hate that she's so pretty," Priscilla muttered under her breath. "Honestly, between her and Mulock, why are attractive people always so mean?"

And speak of the devil, literally. Mulock had begun to make his way towards her. He walked slowly, his hands in his pockets and an aloof expression on his face.

Violet paused when she saw him, her grip tightening on the books she carried ever so slightly.

"Alright," Wheeler whispered excitedly, "here we go!"

"Good evening," Mulock murmured. His voice sounded smooth like marble and even deeper than his usual baritone.

"I don't think I've seen you around before," Violet observed, taking him in.