Work Text:
Diavolo sat on the edge of his bed, towel drying his hair after his shower. He sighed. It was one of those nights. One of those nights where his melancholy bubbled to the surface, and he had to face how truly lonely he felt.
He would call on Barbatos, maybe ask the butler to play a game or two of chess with him until Diavolo could bottle the feelings back up. But he’d already told Barbatos he was dismissed for the evening. Barbatos got such little time to himself, and Diavolo hated the idea of taking that way. He was just so alone in his 'too large for one person' room.
Diavolo crawled into bed and sat in the middle, pulling the covers over his head like he’d done when he was a child. The room had felt even bigger then. Much too large for a child, but apparently fit for a prince. He’d never grown into it. Even with a fire raging in the fireplace, the room felt cold and empty. Hiding under his blankets was a small cozy reprieve.
As he sat there, slowly becoming too hot to stay in his hideout much longer, his DDD lit up the small space. Frowning, he reached for it. The message was probably some reminder of some work he’d forgotten- oh.
Sheepie: Are you awake?
Diavolo couldn’t help the giddy excitement he felt bloom deep within his heart when he saw the message was from you. Biting his lip out of nervousness, he pressed the call button before he could second guess himself. You picked up in seconds.
“Dia? Did I wake you up?” Your voice was bright, always a melody to his ears. You’d even used the nickname he adored.
“No, I was just getting ready for bed.” He put a hand over his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart against his ribcage.
“You sound a little sad, are you okay?” The hand over his heart clenched, nails digging into the fabric of his sleep shirt. How could you always tell when he was feeling down?
He couldn’t hold back a choked little laugh. “Just a little lonely.”
There was a pause on your end of the line, and he realized he might have been too open. He’d forgotten he was the prince of this land for a moment. Maybe he should have acted with more decorum, acted like he was fine, but it was so hard to fake it when talking to you. He wanted you to know every part of him, even the sad ugly bits. He didn’t want to hide that from you because he knew you'd be okay with him not being okay.
You made a thoughtful little noise. “Would you maybe want to, um, sneak over here, and we could watch a movie on my laptop? I think my window is big enough for you to fit through.”
His throat was suddenly aching with repressed emotion. The comfort those words alone already brought him was almost too much. “I’d like that.”
You sounded excited in your reply, almost like you were pleasantly surprised he’d accepted the offer. “Okay! Do you have a favorite genre? I can pick out some options.”
It was silly, he knew it was, but he couldn’t help wanting to say “you.” Instead, he came as close as he could think of. “Would you be willing to show me your favorite movie?”
“Of course! I think you’ll really enjoy it. I’ll run down and get some snacks, and I’ll leave my window unlatched for you if you end up getting here before I come back up. Feel free to make yourself at home if that happens.” A tear landed on Diavolo’s hand as he listened to your excited voice.
Maybe he wasn’t as lonely as he used to be.