Work Text:
jeal·ous
/ˈjeləs/
adjective
feeling or showing suspicion of someone's unfaithfulness in a relationship.
❝ a jealous boyfriend. ❞
Everything was fine until he had to show up.
Fumus could tolerate his brother any time, any day, with ANY antic.
But not now.
Not. Now.
Why?
Because Satanick was LITERALLY hitting on Iris.
His wife, his possession.
Right in front of him.
And with that wide and witty grin the pitch black devil had on, he knew that Satanick knew it was bothering him. Way too much.
Now, Fumus wasn’t one of those clingy bitches who breathed the same air as their lover.
But he WAS the type to own what was rightfully his.
And the thing he owned was Iris.
(not that she is a thing or anything..)
From the side of the room, the sadistic god watched as she blushed at his corny jokes and his ““““sweet”””” compliments.
It made him so, so..
angry.
It made him just as angry as the day he discovered Nadine escaped his world and was hiding elsewhere.
But, there’s no reason to get worked up too much now.
Looking back to Iris’s table after coming out of his little trance, Satanick had disappeared, but not without gifting his person of interest a simple, indigo rose.
The rose was pressed between the female’s hands, she sniffed it and stared at it with bright gleam in her eyes.
She must like it.
After all, she’s quite the fan of flowers.
Regardless, Fumus’s blood was boiling.
Stomping, he approached the white haired goddess’s table.
”Y-yes?” She asked innocently.
”May I see that rose?” Fumus responsed blandly.
”Knock yourself out.”
And with that, Iris gently handed him the rose she held.
Fumus’s gray eyes stared into the rose.
He thought about Iris leaving him for his spoiled little brother.
He thought about how badly Satanick would treat her.
His grip tightened around the rose, thorns piercing his skin, blood seeping from his pale skinned hand.
He thought about Satanick only using her for a good time.
He thought about Iris being pregnant with his brother’s child and then, after the poor thing was born, the devil leaving her to rot.
The god’s eyes turned just as indigo as the rose.
Then,
He thought about Iris. Happy, loving, kind and sweet Iris, stuck in the rain with a baby, slowly awaiting her death.
That final thought, drove Fumus incredibly mad.
He threw the rose on the floor, a gasp escaping the female’s lips.
He then proceeded to stomp and crush the rose until it was a stem with scattered, disembodied petals.
When the cruel god was finished, he swiftly lit up a cigarette and left his wife at the table, in immense awe.
Sighing, Iris placed her face in her hands.
What was was she going to do with him?
puff, puff.
Fumus sat in his office and smoked a cigarette.
His 17th one, in fact.
He wondered if Iris was thinking about how much of a tool he was for destroying such a “pretty” rose.
But, he wouldn’t know.
Well, he would have until he heard knocking at his front doors.
”Can I come in?” A soft voice asked.
Knowing who it already was, the god subtly answered back with a simple yes.
The door creaked open, and in came his wife.
Her white hair and purple eyes, in a long, silky, black dress that in a way, defined her body as a whole.
”The whole package” or, at least, that’s what Fumus thought.
Pulling up a chair, she sat down and sighed.
”You seemed quite, tense, back there.” She commented, her nervousness evident in the way she spoke.
”Tense is an undestatement, darling.” Fumus reesponded as he burnt out his current cigarette.
“So... you were angry..?”
”Maybe, maybe not.”
The white haired goddess sighed again.
“Be real, Fumus. I mean, you were glaring at Satanick and I, and when you were crushing the rose Satanick gave me, your eyes turned just like his, which, rarely ever happens..” She stated.
”Regardless, are you upset?” She asked.
Damn. She’s quite smart. And observant.
”No.” He quickly stumbled out with no thought in mind.
”Then why would you stomp out the rose your brother gave me?” Iris said as she inched closer to his desk to where she could slump on it, arms crossed.
”Maybe I just don’t like him giving you roses. That’s all.” He said. It was part of it, but he didn’t want to tell her he was jealous and whatnot.
Then suddenly, Irises’ laughter filled the room.
”Wait, were you jealous?” She snickered.
Flushing, Fumus lit up another cigarette.
”I wasn’t, Iris.”
“No wonder you were all pouty and mad, it was because Satanick was flirting with me, right?”
She asked civilly, her laugh slowly stopping.
Fumus nodded.
Getting up, Iris walked over to where Fumus was sitting.
The god was the color of a beet and his face was in his hands tiredly.
”What?” He asked when he saw her next to him.
“Look at me.” She said.
Removing his hands from his face, he looked up to see Iris and her own tired smile.
She lifted her right hand and pointed to her ring finger.
’Our wedding ring..’ Fumus thought.
“You know, I married you because I love you. My life, is dedicated to you. I would never leave you for Satanick. You know that.” She said calmly.
”There’s no one else I’d rather be with, than you.” Lowering herself to the height that he was sitting in the chair, she pressed her nose with her husband’s.
”I love you, Fumus.”
“I love you too, Iris.”
pinch!
”What the hell!?” Fumus exclaimed, rubbing his left ear.
”That’s what you get for destroying such a good rose!” Iris yelled back.
And then they argued the rest of the night through.
The End.