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Fluorescent lights and linoleum floors are an unpleasant combination for anyone, but for someone undergoing a demonic transformation, they make for a particularly harrowing experience.
Edward stands, hands shoved into the pockets of his worn letterman jacket, his sage green bangs falling messily before his eyes (of which appear to possess an almost pinkish hue; though, he’s sure no mortal can discern the difference). He maintains an ever-present aura of confidence — yet, unbeknownst to those around him, inside, he’s fighting demons.
For all these years, he’s been loyal: a martyr, a devoted worshipper of Sebastian Michaelis — an icon of sin, illustrious and seductive and all-consuming. The demon fills his days with light, with purpose, calling to him from the depths of Hell so he might one day unite with his infernal lover in consummation most unholy.
For all these years, Edward has eschewed consumption, turning his nose up amidst an onslaught of disbelievers, of eggs bacon cheese, of Crunchwrap Supremes and Baja Blasts.
And for what?
For naught.
The queue looms before him, a long line of mortals seeking the mere simple pleasure of sustenance. Each customer seems to spend a lifetime speaking to the clerk; yet, far less time than Edward would prefer passes before he at last reaches the ivory counter.
“Welcome to Taco Bell,” grunts the cashier, her monotonous tone ringing in his ears like a swarm of cicadas. “Would you like to try our new Crispy Chicken Nuggets?”
Edward can’t believe the audacity of this mortal to ask such a question. Alas, he finds himself standing before her, stomach roaring in unwillful anticipation.
He questions himself.
Is he really about to break his fast? His commitment to the love of his life?
Sure, there had been rough patches in his relationship with Sebastian. Hell, maybe there had even been times when he had gone as far as to question whether their relationship was healthy. But was that enough to throw away the years of his life he had spent devoted to his one and only?
A boundless devotion, to be sure. Oh, how the mortals have laughed, have pointed and stared and berated his unyielding faith. Edward has all but cast them aside, friends and family, acquaintances and psychiatrists, in lieu of a heart, demonic in nature, beating only for him.
Edward finds himself, against his better judgement, against the very organ thumping in tandem beneath his ribcage, doubting his conviction.
His lover has failed to answer his calls. Has appeared nought amongst this mortal plane but within dreams alone. Has left him cold and alone, shivering beneath the moon’s pale glow, crying prayers that fizzle into starlight and fall upon deaf ears.
How many more years can Edward waste shouting invocations in oblivion? Rebuking his earthly desires for a man who suffers no kindred agony?
Could his love for the butler truly supersede his right to live a life of his own?
“Um, are you gonna order?” The employee’s flat cadence cuts through his thoughts like a blade through miry butter.
Edward collects himself, mentally allotting a lone apology to the man pervading his thoughts. “Oh, right, erm… One Cheesy Gordita Crunch, please.”
The cashier replies, sweeping her tawny curls behind her ear, “Would you like to make that a combo?”
Edward flinches, taken aback by the unexpected question amidst his internal turmoil. “Erm, yes, please.”
“The combo comes with a Beefy 5-Layer Burrito and a side of Chips And Nacho Cheese Sauce. What would you like for your drink?”
Foolish human — to present him with such a trivial inquiry would certainly mean death by his sword were he fully transformed. As if he would want anything other than a Baja Blast.
“Erm, a Baja Blast, thanks,” he answers, containing his ire (for now).
The clerk nods, poking at her tablet. “That’ll be $8.75.”
“Do you accept Apple Pay?”
“Yeah.”
As they should. Edward pulls his phone from his pocket, begrudgingly tapping the device to the PIN pad. A shrill beep rings from below as his misdeeds are corporealized, cemented in time as evidence of his wavering loyalty to his beloved.
He departs from the counter at last, only faintly aware of the cashier’s “That’ll be out shortly!” lingering behind him. The nearby tables tower before him, a vast array of circular wood and steel, tall stools beckoning him to rest upon their cushioned succor.
Something wretched halts his gait — dark and tumultuous, churning in his stomach like poison, searing through his muscles like icicles forming along winter-wilted leaves.
Guilt. It swarms beneath his skin, akin to the creatures scuttling beneath his sheets in the dead of night. The fluorescent lights seem to flicker in tune with this grotesque melody, all at once transforming his hunger into a murky silhouette of heartbreak.
He bolts to the bathroom, seeking even a modicum of comfort to aid him through the pain of his own infidelity. The door swings open at the push of his arms, hinges squeaking, loud, deafening, drawing all eyes to his weakness, his betrayal.
Blue-tinged stalls line the walls beside him. Edward forgoes this route, his bowels decidedly still empty, turning instead towards the glistening mirrors at his right-hand side.
The row of sinks call to Edward like a saving grace, their promise of respite soothing his burning synapses. He practically runs to a sink, tugging desperately at the faucet handles. The instant response of rushing cold water provides him some solace, the feeling of control reassuring him of his inexorable powers.
Who was he to doubt Sebastian? If something so paltry as a delayed response from his betrothed held the potential to sway his credence, was he ever truly devoted to begin with?
For all his progress in transforming, in assuring his metamorphosis into the hellish beast lurking within, Edward remains little more than a man. If mortal temptations, such as fast food, were the forbidden fruit of the tree and he the first woman, the precedence of mankind created from Adam’s rib in the image of God, would he too succumb to the sinuous whispers breathed upon his skin by the Serpent of Eden? Lulling him to surrender with promises of full bellies and restful nights, of a world made richer in the absence of his God?
Would it thus not be extremely rash and unwise to refuse to heed the warnings foretold to him, rathering instead to satiate his gluttonous desires by consuming the forbidden fruit?
Edward’s hands join beneath the flow of frigid water, glittering pools gathering in his palms. He brings the liquid to his heated cheeks, wrists trembling, allowing it to fly and fall in crystalline rivulets down his chin, his neck, his chest.
He dares to gaze upon his own reflection, fearing the spectre of anguish staring back at him. His fuchsia-tinted orbs scintillate with unshed tears. His throat tightens with a quelled howl.
Something terrifyingly akin to finality plagues his thoughts.
It terrifies him.
It ensnares him in its maw, threatening to drag him into the darkest of depths.
Treacherous. All-consuming.
It might just drown him.
Something shifts. A stuttering heartbeat. A chill in the air. The overhead lights flicker for a quiet, motionless moment, before dimming into a sanguine smolder.
Dulled and immobile, shaded in the shadow his quivering form casts, Edward spots a flash of movement in his peripheral. It curls behind his shoulder, inky fibrils dancing in the darkness, dragging along his arms, tangling between the fine strands comprising his bangs.
He blinks.
The shadows do not recede.
They mold together, cloying to the walls, to the tiles bearing the mirror and the stalls framing his own reflection, staining the floors in putrid evernight. Ice licks his nape like salt-scented winds, like fingers caressing a delicate treasure.
Like a lover.
Edward watches, mouth agape, as the darkness takes shape. Within it emerges a figure taller than he, blurred lines clarifying to reveal hair blacker than a starless night sky, alabaster skin, and sparkling crimson eyes.
He… he knows this figure.
Stupefaction floods Edward’s mind. This can’t be possible, he thinks, I still haven’t completed my transformation.
And yet, there exists no force on this mortal plane capable of obscuring his senses, of revoking or impeding his recognition of the creature looming behind his reflection.
“Seba—,” he cuts himself off, struggling to articulate his racing thoughts. “ —h-how can it be?”
The demon saturating his vision grins, sharp canines glinting in the low light.
“Isn’t it obvious, my dear?” Sebastian purrs. “My heart beats for none but you. I have sensed your grief — the very aching of your soul — and have answered your prayer.”
A refraction of gloved fingers trails up Edward’s arm. He shivers, feeling it despite the glass separating the two. Worried he might burst with elation, a dichotomy of relief and uncertainty swirling in his gut, he whispers, “Then it must be true — you’re really here. You’re the only one I know who could truly understand my pain.”
“Indeed. It is through your passion that I am able to manifest myself into this world, if only for a short while,” Sebastian says, lashes fluttering as endearment overtakes his features.
“Into this world? But— but you’re only in the mirror,” Edward laments. His arm raises on instinct, palm coming to rest on the cool, reflective surface where his lover dutifully stands.
Sebastian mimics the motion, something delicious and devious gleaming behind his eyes.
The glass beneath Edward’s hand begins to warm. Suddenly, the fingers he’s come to know so well in the mere sanctity of sleep take shape, emerging from the mirror and sending ripples across its surface. They take hold of Edward’s awaiting grasp, digits interlocking, the weight of the world itself now falling onto his shoulders.
He knows what to do — just as this demon, his demon, has done for him countless times before. He pulls this creature, wicked and depraved and beautiful, from the undulating tides drowning its glory. Plunges his own body into a tempest’s roaring waves so he might feel the touch of pin-prick fangs and saccharine satin against his own skin.
He grants himself the ability to be selfish, greedy, as his desire makes his movements steadfast and unwavering.
The butler all but leaps from the mirror, his polished shoes landing softly on the tile floor.
At last — at long last — his love stands before him, irises glowing with pure desire.
“Sebastian!” Edward cries, falling into the demon’s awaiting arms. “I’ve waited so long for this — for you to hold me. I never once doubted you; I’ve spent all this time refusing that which ties me to this bodily prison. I’ve been denying myself sustenance, wretched eggs bacon cheese, and pushing those who doubt me into rivers in your image. I could do so much more for you, anything you asked, anything at all—”
“Hush now, darling,” Sebastian interrupts. “We haven’t much time — and there is so very much I yearn to do to you.”
Those devilish hands encircle Edward’s waist, etching a path downwards before halting at his slim hips. They push harshly, turning the smaller man in a swift motion and pinning him against the sink. Cool porcelain bites into the small of his back as Sebastian leans ever closer.
The demon’s breath fans across Edward’s flushed cheeks. Magenta irises bore into his own, a mirrored glow simmering with unabashed ardor.
Edward surrenders to corruption, willful, wanting, his lids fluttering shut.
He awaits the sultry press of his lover’s lips to his own.
Alas; it does not come.
The air stills around them. Seconds tick by, indefinite and unyielding.
Sebastian’s voice is a dark thing when he speaks once more.
“Do you take me for a fool, my love?”
Dread seizes Edward’s lungs, fracturing in icy shards along his spine.
“What do you mean?” He tries, tone unsteady, eyes cracking open hesitantly. “Of course not.”
The demon’s smile curls dangerously. “Unwavering as your adoration may be, I do believe there is a bitter scent of disloyalty permeating your being.”
Panic rises in Edward’s throat like bile. “I—” His words catch as one of Sebastian’s hands vacates his hips, gripping his jaw and forcing his head to the side. “I never meant to be unfaithful to you. You’re the most important thing to me. I just— I felt so alone — nghh!”
Edward gasps, skin prickling at the feather-light kisses laved along his bared neck.
“You truly believe I would abandon you?” Sebastian murmurs into the junction of his ear.
“No! It’s just that I— I’ve pushed everyone away, all for you. They don’t understand— they’ll never understand—!”
“Silly boy, a wolf doesn’t concern himself with the opinions of sheep,” Sebastian snarls, fangs scraping along the sensitive flesh before biting down painfully.
“Ahn~~! I’m sorry, please forgive me!” Edward moans, hips rocking in tune with each sting of the demon’s wandering canines.
Sebastian hums. His free hand slithers beneath the hem of Edward’s letterman jacket, caressing his twitching abdomen.
“Say it again,” he purrs.
Edward obeys, helplessly caught. “I’m sorry. Please— ah!— forgive me.”
“Good boy.” The words tumble through Edward’s lust-addled brain, his body jerking involuntarily as desperation overtakes him.
Against his better judgment, Edward reaches out, taking hold of Sebastian’s coat lapels and dragging him into a fervid kiss. A luminous chuckle falls from the demon’s mouth as their lips finally meet, both creatures melting into one another, proffering the image of a singular writhing being.
It is hardly gentle. Edward savors the tangy flavor of blood coating his tongue as their teeth clip and clash, privy to each sordid little whimper that claws its way up Sebastian’s throat, filling the cold air and intermingling with his own lewd sounds.
“Fuck— I need you so badly,” Edward whines. His grip tightens, attempting to pull the demon closer, their bodies rocking in harmony.
Sebastian cups his jaw, softly, lovingly, their foreheads meeting as they share a breath. “Don’t you see, my heart? You’ve had me all along — in here.”
He takes hold of Edward’s hand, guiding it to press firmly against the smaller man’s chest. The latter’s eyes sparkle with recognition, nerves alight at the realization that he was never truly alone.
Distantly, Edward becomes aware of the overhead lights flickering back to their prior brightness, Sebastian’s form beginning to dissipate in time.
“No! Please! Just a little longer. This is all I’ve ever wanted,” Edward pleads, holding onto the demon before him like a lifeline.
Sebastian smiles softly. He places a faint peck at the tip of Edward’s nose.
“In due time, dearest,” he says, his voice fading with each passing second. “Do not lose faith. We will meet again someday — not as mere demon and mortal, but as two beings bound to one another for all eternity.”
The words ring in Edward’s ears as his one true love vanishes before his eyes, receding to the depths of his mind.
Sadness overtakes the green-haired man; yet, it pales in comparison to the hope, the joy and rekindled conviction now resting soundly within his chest. Beating in time with his heart — for Edward knows that, should he find himself missing the black-haired butler, he need only look within.
Edward at last departs from this fabled Taco Bell, leaving behind all of his fears, all of his doubts, and all of his now-cold Cheesy Gordita Crunch Combo.