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Blitzø groaned, planting his face in his palm. How did he let Stolas talk him into these things?
The last thing he’d wanted to do was stand around with a buncha hillbillies excited about corn n' shit with a thirsty owl on stage.
Blitzø had wanted to leave.
In fact, he had been all set to retreat back to the Rough n' Tumbleweed Ranch for the express reason of avoiding this nonsense. But Stolas just had to catch him before he could escape and pull his sad bird act on him when he’d said he wanted to leave and whine about how much he’d like it if he stayed. And basically, guilt Blitzø into staying.
It was a dirty trick and the prince knew it but oh if it wasn’t effective.
Stupid jerk.
So here he was.
Perched on the edge of the stage while Stolas preened in the background.
“I, Stolas of the Ars Goetia, hereby curse this year’s harvest with the glow of the true Harvest Moon!” The overly dramatic bird (in Blitzø’s opinion) proclaimed haughtily before waving a careless hand and creating a portal. A man in the crowd screamed something as the portal stretched open revealing a full moon. It bathed everything in an eerie orange light.
From his seat, Blitzø sneered and rolled his eyes as the crowd oohed in wonder.
Dumb hicks.
Scowling, he pulled his leg up. Leaning back, he braced himself on his arm, elbow resting on his bent knee while his free leg hung over the edge of the stage swung idly back and forth. His face twisted into a exasperated scowl as the moment stretched on and Stolas continued to bask in the praise and attention.
Pompous ass.
He rolled his eyes, mentally drafting another rant, when something caught his eye.
Blitzø frowned, sharp eyes immediately casing the square with an expert (assassin’s) eye.
The stage was set in the middle of the town.
Businesses bordered it on all sides and overlooked the houses. Millie’s parent’s was set directly in front. There was a light in the upstairs window that shouldn’t be there.
The color was wrong.
Bright white instead of the more common red. It glittered like sunlight off a gun barrel.
He squinted before his eyes widened with sudden understanding.
“Stolas!” The prince’s head jerked up, eyes widening in surprise. “Get down!” His claws dug furrows in the wood in his haste to reach the startled owl demon. His heart was pumping so loud it was all he could hear as he slipped, caught himself with his hands before flinging himself onto Stolas’ head cat-like and forcing it down just as a gunshot rang out.
Blitzø grunted as the bullet hit his side.
Everything happened very fast after that.
The momentum sent both of them sprawling across the stage; Stolas hit with a grunt, while Blitzø fell off his head, and slid a few feet across the stage. He came to a stop on his side and didn’t move. His entire world had narrowed down to a pinprick of pain and burning and worry and love and frightened rage and fucking ow.
"-ltzy?!" Stolas’ voice is frantic, Blitz thinks he might be crying and some part of him wants to tease him for being such an overemotional bitch. He tried to smile, make a joke, complain; do anything to explain exactly how he feels about Stolas jostling him like he’s a rag doll when he feels like absolute shit. But his lips don’t move. He, he can’t move. The best he can do is weakly glare at the giant prick; even that simple gesture was exhausting. He’s so tired. Surely he can rest; just for a little bit? Distantly, he hears Stolas apologizing to him.
It's the last thing he hears.
–
Stolas hooted in shock when he collided with the floor. Pain shot up his wrist but it paled in comparison to seeing the bloody, unmoving form of his little lover before him. He scrambled forward on his hands and knees - uncaring that he might be putting himself back in the sniper’s range. All that mattered was Blitzø - before frantically cradling the imp’s head in his hands.
“Blitzy?! Blitz are you alright?” He winced as soon as the words left his mouth despite the seriousness of the situation. Of course, Blitzø wasn’t alright, he’d just been shot. Stolas huffed sheepishly as the imp shot him an exasperated glare. “Ah right sorry. Stupid question. Don’t worry everything’s going to be fine. You’ll be okay. Just give me a– Blitzø? BLITZø?”
The imp was completely limp in his arms.
He wasn’t moving.
He wasn’t breathing.
But surely he couldn’t be dead, Stolas thought disbelievingly giving Blitzø a little shake. Surely he wouldn’t– He had just been there, just moved. Surely he would have noticed and done something to–
He didn’t so much as twitch when Stolas shook him gently. His limbs flopped lifelessly before returning to the same position.
Stolas’ thoughts started to derail as the harsh reality began to dawn on him. His hands trembled and he gazed disbelievingly at Blitzø’s slack face. He had seen death before in a hundred different ways, in a hundred different times and none of it was as awful as seeing his imp’s expressive face go dull. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as his breathing hitched and with nothing else to do he pulled Blitzø’s body closer.
And Stolas clung to his limp body and screamed as the second good thing in his life slipped through his fingers.