Chapter Text
It’s cold, Crimson thinks to himself, but maybe it will always be a little colder to creatures like him.
Soft puffs of air leave his mouth with every breath, making him hide his nose just a little bit longer in the frontside of his worn – dearly loved, he would say – black ratty hoodie.
He remotely remembers always disliking the cold, childhood memories of him believing that his hot blood – pools of lava in his system – would make him a little bit better at withstanding the cold, instead it’s just an annoying life sentence that makes his limbs go numb faster than he would like.
He is about to resign himself to just locking himself inside his house, fingers and leather gloves too close to the fire for a normal human, a little too dangerous and reckless, when he remembers of the small fae gently resting between his thick curly black hair.
She has been fairly quiet, resting her tiny head and arms between sharp broken horns.
He wonders if pixies can hibernate, or go into hypothermia, he wouldn’t like that he thinks, but his heart is as numb as the tip of his nose, so he can’t tell for sure.
A soft shake of his head makes the fairy perk up, which results in pulled hair and tiny screams that always sound like bells to his ears – is it normal for a demon to appreciate the sound of church bells? – and breathy laughter to escape his throat.
“What was that for?!” Nyree exclaims, with all the might a tiny creature may have. Admittedly, she is probably the mightiest little creature he has ever encountered.
“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. I was just checking if you were still alive ‘s all.” Crimson half laughs, the tip of his index finger reaching her head and patting it as softly as he can, which gets out a small grumble he can’t help but smile fondly at.
“Whatever.” she says, sitting upright by the crown of his hair. “You were telling me something important, continue, come on!”
“Was i?” he says, rather more dumbly than he would like.
Crimson would pride himself on being a fairly intelligent person, analytical and critical, always a step ahead of everyone and always at arm’s reach, never too distant and never too close, distant enough to not detect suspects or any bad wills, yet with this pixie… it’s probably the cold, freezing his brain cells.
“You were talking about having insanely hot blood!” Nyree says, a bit too impatiently, resulting in another yank of hair strands which make his scalp lightly burn.
It ends up in Crimson faking to squish his little companion, and said fairy trying her best to not get squashed, all the while giggling and swaying dumbly side to side, almost like a one-man dancing show.
Suddenly, in the middle of their silly quarrel, Crimson gets his hair yanked more strongly than he would like, making him sway slightly backwards and almost trip on his feet; before he can yell at his friend, asking for an explanation, he notices mud beneath his scraped combat boots.
A lake rests in front of them.
“You idiot!” Nyree screams, meaning to sound angry but sounding slightly a little too fond near the edges. “You are allergic to water, aren’t you? I know you are half blind but gods, be more careful!”.
“Yeah.” he says, voice slightly stuck somewhere in his chest, looking straight ahead.
Water gives him awful hives and rashes, making his skin itch just at the thought of it, hot blood pooling from scratches burning carpets and ground in the process, but it isn’t the phantom itches that freeze every thought he has.
A beautiful siren swims carefree in front of them, long purple hair and iridescent scales all over, bright smile and slightly pink cheeks from the freezing water she is swimming in.
He knows what’s about to happen, his lungs burning like he just got dunked into that freezing lake himself, leaving not even a whisper in the process.
Like clockwork, a small ball of green and light blue softly descends from his head, like a beautiful leaf fallen too soon from its tree.
Something in his chest aches, between his ribs and heart, he repeats to himself that it’s the cold playing tricks on him. He blames an impossible hypothermia.v
“Oh my!” Nyree says, skipping around the dock near the lake, twirling on her light feet. “She is quite a beauty! Oh my, her tail is so gorgeous!”
“Yeah.” Crimson swallows thickly, scrapping the point of his boots on the ground in front of the dock, mahogany eyes locked on long pretty light blue hair and ripped delicate wings. He hides his trembling hands in the pocket of his hoodie, he needs thicker clothes.
“Are you-” He chokes, making his voice a little bit more detached – a bit more emotionless, like he doesn’t truly care – “are you gonna stop here?”.
“Well duh!” the bundle of glimmer exclaims, like it’s the obvious thing in the world, maybe it truly is, maybe Crimson just has something wrong with him. “Have you taken a good look at her? she’s truly beautiful, i need to talk to her y’know?”
“Can’t you talk to me, too?” he gritters between his teeth, voice strained and heated. He regrets it before he even utters those words, but his heart has taken command before his brain – maybe he isn’t so level headed, he thinks bitterly.
Nyree looks at him with a mix of confusion and mild annoyance, her mind moved on from a new task.
“Crimson, we just finished talking right now?”
“I know but- didn’t finish explaining my blood thing.” he scrambles to say, sounding more awfully desperate than he wanted, which makes him cringe in the process. He decides to stand a little bit straighter, head a little higher, if he looks down at her maybe he won’t feel like he’s about to throw up the very water near his feet.
“It doesn’t matter now, we can continue another time.” Nyree waves him off carelessly, before turning fully towards the clear water, trying her best to catch the siren’s attention.
Something inside Crimson bubbles up and trembles, making everything itchy like a million bugs residing underneath his skin, ugly vines and mush in his chest, between his ribs, in his heart.
He stomps his foot on the dock, bit too forcefully than intended, making the fairy trip on herself and almost falling in the water below, leaving her baffled and more annoyed.
“Crimson what in the Gods are you do-”
“Am I even your friend?!” he spouts, before she can even finish her sentence.
“Do you even like me, like at all?” it feels like vomit and bile just escaped his lungs, burning everything along the road.
“I-” Nyree stammers, “I d- why are you even asking?”
“Every time, every single time there is-” he looks ahead, instead of the little green pixie, he looks at the clear water he heavily despises. “You always leave, every time, there’s just someo- something, something more important.”
“We talk everyday Crimson.” Nyree tilts her head, dusting off dirt from her hair and dress, picking herself up. “I want to do other stuff, too, see other people.”
“Right, yeah.” he retreats from the dock, stabilizing himself on the green grass instead, away from the water, away from her.
“You sound angry, Crim.” Nyree gently offers, even if her eyes are somewhere else entirely, silky hair flowing with the wind, half of her face hidden beneath a sea of light foam.
“ ‘m not.” he says, throat tight and painful. Is she sure that her magic doesn’t work? He feels compelled to look at her, gaze fixated on her tiny graceful form.
“Haven’t I told you to be careful with me? You know, i’m not nice” she says half smiling, as she was telling a silly joke and not labelling herself as an awful person.
“You also lie a lot.” Crimson whispers beneath the collar of his hoodie, nose and chin tucked clumsy to protect the little feeling he has left on his face.
Nyree doesn’t hear him, or probably she did and just chooses to ignore him, instead looking transfixed at the wonderful water creature, like it was just a show made for her and her only. She looks beautiful under the sunlight, more beautiful than any creature he has ever seen.
He steals a last glance at Nyree and leaves, leaving a piece of his heart underneath the floorboards of the dock.