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Stolas had never woken up so excited. Well, maybe last month on his birthday, but that day had been a mixed bag of both good and bad. Bad, because he found out he’d one day have to marry a scary-looking girl who liked to choke dogs. But also good, because he'd made a friend! His first-ever friend, aside from Pringles, who didn’t really count because he was his butler and was paid to look after him.
Meeting Blitzo on his birthday had been the best present he’d ever received — even his brand-new, magical grimoire could not compete with having a real friend for the first time in his ten years of life. The imp was a ball of energy, bringing a spark of joy and light into his life he didn’t know he’d been missing. He’d never had someone his age to play with before, to run around the palace with, making up silly stories about pirates and their odd need to have windows on ships. It had been the best day ever, and one month later, he was going to see Blitzo again.
His father had not been impressed when he discovered that Blitzo’s father had forced his son to steal several of their prized possessions. However, when Stolas admitted that he had been complicit in the act, his father decided the appropriate punishment for both of them was to make them spend even more time together.
It was, in Stolas’s opinion, a stroke of genius. He hadn’t known he was capable of such convincing acting, but his performance—pretending he’d had a miserable time with the imp and that he’d only participated in the theft because he’d been forced—worked perfectly. His father dismissed him as a sissy and declared that, now that Stolas was ten years old, he needed to learn how to be more of a “man." Deep down, it hurt him to talk about Blitzo like that, but taking the risk had worked in his favor. When his father announced to him that Blitzo would be coming over tomorrow, he had to hide his bubbling excitement.
He made sure to spend extra time on his preening, wanting to look his best for his new friend, deciding to wear one of his newer capes — a sparkly purple one — that he hoped Blitzo would like. He ate his breakfast in silence, still putting on the guise that he was not looking forward to their forced play date in front of Pringles. Still, as soon as he was allowed to return to his room, he practically bounded onto his bed, jumping up and down gleefully as he snuggled into his favorite imp toy.
A knock on his door an hour later made his stomach drop. Taking a few deep breaths, he called out.
“Come in.”
The door opened, revealing Pringles and Blitzo standing beside him. He was scowling, holding onto his arm.
“Prince Stolas, your playmate is here.” Pringles glanced down at Blitzo under his monocle. “You are not to leave Prince Stolas’s room, understood?”
Blitzo nodded, still frowning.
“I will be back in two hours to return you to your father.” Pringles then looked to Stolas. “Best behaviour.”
He shut the door behind him, leaving Blitzo and Stolas alone. Oh, how much Stolas wanted to run over and hug his friend, to tell him how happy he was to see him again! But he resisted. Pringles often told him he was ‘too much’, and that he needed to behave with more poise, like an actual prince.
So, instead, he offered Blitzo a smile and a bow.
“Hello, Blitzo. How are you?” he asked politely.
“Fuckin’ fantastic, thanks,” the imp grumbled, though he didn’t appear to be too happy.
“You don’t seem okay. Would you like a cup of tea?”
Blitzo finally looked him in the eyes.
“A…tea?”
“Yes! I always find that a good cup of tea makes me feel better,” he offered. “I can phone Pringles and ask him to bring us some.”
Blitzo kept looking at him, and confusion spread across his face. “Uhhh…sure. Whatever.”
“Okay! I’ll ask for a selection so you can pick which one you’d like.”
Stolas ran over to the telephone beside his bed as Blitzo peeled himself away from the door and ventured further into his room. He stood awkwardly, shifting his weight back and forth on his hooves as he took in his surroundings. It made Stolas wonder what Blitzo’s bedroom was like.
Putting the phone back in its holder, he turned to Blitzo.
“Tea will be here shortly. I also asked for biscuits.”
Blitzo’s head whipped up at the mention of biscuits. “What kind?”
“Shortbread. It has a good consistency to dip into your tea and is very sweet!”
Blitzo seemed to ponder the words for a second before responding. “Fuck, I forgot how fancy you are.”
Stolas felt his cheeks burn. “Oh, I…I’m sorry, I just…”
“Guess that’s why I’m here, though, right? Somethin’ about toughenin' you up? And me needin’ to learn how to spell better? That’s what Papa said anyway.”
Oh! Of course, that's why Blitzo was acting so shifty. He had no idea of Stolas's plan.
“Yes, well…actually, I may have…coerced our fathers into thinking that," he whispered, just in case Pringles was still outside the door.
Blitzo cocked his head. “Co-what?”
“I didn’t hate spending time with you, Blitzo. It was so much fun! But I knew I wouldn't be able to see you again if I told my father that, so I lied. Well, I pretended that I’d had a terrible time and that you made me help you steal all those fancy things.”
“I mean, I kinda did do that…”
“Right! Well, not standing up for myself isn’t very…manly, apparently, so he decided my punishment should be spending more time with you, to teach me how to be more confident.”
“Huh…” Blitzo rubbed his chin. “So why do you have to be my teacher? He shoulda kept me in school if he wanted me to spell properly.”
“Blitzo, I won’t actually teach you! And you don’t need to toughen me up either. We can just pretend to."
The imp's yellow eyes lit up, finally putting two and two together. He rubbed his neck.
“Sooooo…you don’t hate me?”
“Blitzo! No!” He moved over to where the imp stood and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about the consequences my lie would have on you.”
“It’s okay, Stolas. In fact, it’s kinda…badass what you did.” Blitzo smirked.
“Really?”
“Yeah! I didn’t think you’d have it in you to lie, but I’m low-key impressed.”
He felt his cheeks burn up at the compliment from his friend. “Oh, well, thank you, Blitzo.”
A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. Pringles entered carrying a tray.
“Your tea and biscuits, your highness.”
“Thank you, Pringles.” Stolas bowed in appreciation. Pringles nodded and left them once again.
Now that the misunderstanding was out of the way, Blitzo relaxed, returning to how he was the last time they spent time together. They sat on the floor (what a concept!) to eat their shortbread and drink their tea, though Blitzo wasn’t too impressed about having to let the tea sit and brew. Eventually, though, he did admit it was pretty nice, especially when dunking a biscuit into it. Stolas giggled, watching the imp use his long tongue to lap up his tea, completely foregoing any of the instructions Stolas gave to him about how to drink tea properly from a cup. He was so silly.
After tea, they decided to play pirates again. Blitzo already had a storyline ready to go, his imagination knowing no bounds when it came to making up stories. Stolas felt his cheeks hurting from laughing at Blitzo pretending to be a grumpy, gruff old pirate trying to navigate to buried treasure using a map. Stolas was his crewmate and tried to follow his orders, but he was always getting something a little bit wrong, so Blitzo would tell him off by prodding him with his tail, making him laugh even more. They fought a fearsome sea monster, wrestled a raging storm, and finally made it to the island, where they found the treasure.
“Yar! We’re rich!” Blitzo bellowed, throwing handfuls of money—otherwise known as Stolas’s collection of marbles—into the air. They burst from the bag and clattered across the floor in a noisy cascade. The sound made Stolas flinch, snapping him out of the game. A spike of worry followed immediately after; their racket might have alerted Pringles, and then he’d realize they were having fun. Thankfully, there was no knock at the door, and the pair let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Phew, being a pirate is thirsty work!” Blitzo wiped his brow dramatically, dropping onto the floor. Stolas copied him, not feeling quite as comfortable on the hard floor as Blitzo seemed to be.
While they rested, Stolas learned more about Blitzo’s life — about his twin sister Barbie, his best friend Fizz, and what it was like to live in an all-imp circus. It sounded so much more fun than Stolas’s life. All he had was his studies, his books, and a weekly visit to the palace garden. That had been fine until he met Blitzo and learned that life could be so much more interesting.
Stolas was enjoying watching Blitzo perform some of his newest tricks when a knock at the door interrupted their fun. Pringles poked his head round.
“Blitzo, it’s time to leave.”
Oh, the time had gone too fast! They looked at each other despondently.
“Welp, guess I’ll see ya next month,” Blitzo rubbed at one of his horns.
Stolas gasped. He had not expected to see Blitzo again so soon, if ever! “Next month?”
“Yeah, my dad and your dad made a deal or somethin’.”
Oh, so out of obligation. He averted his gaze to the floor.
“Right…I see…”
“Hey, next time, we can do some coloring! I may not be the best speller, but I am an awesome drawer!”
“That sounds fun!” His eyes lit up again.
“See ya, Stolas!” Blitzo waved, skipping off to follow Pringles out.
“Goodbye, Blitzo!” Stolas waved back. He flapped his wings excitedly. He would see his friend again!
The days Blitzo came to play quickly became the highlight of Stolas’s month. Blitzo was a constant bundle of energy, always eager to entertain him with some newly learned trick or regale him with wild stories from the circus. Stolas was more than happy to sit back and watch, utterly enamored with his friend’s confidence and razor-sharp wit.
They did a lot of pretending, too. Together, they created an entire world of their own, led largely by Blitzo and his undying love of horses. They pretend to be horses competing in races against other, less cool horses. Blitzo’s horse, Stapler, was lean and fast, though he had a nasty temper. Stolas’s horse, Twilight, was shy and reserved, but fiercely loyal.
As their confidence grew that no one was actually paying attention to their play dates (Pringles was never outside his room when they checked…), they began sneaking out of Stolas’s room to play, racing down the long, empty halls and sometimes in the garden. Their races were often close. While Stolas wasn’t as fast as Blitzo, his long, spindly legs made it easier for him to vault over obstacles that Blitzo had to scramble around. He’d never laughed so much as he did when Blitzo came to play.
Alas, on Blitzo’s sixth visit to the palace, their fun came to an abrupt end.
They were deep in their imaginary horse world, paper and pens strewn all over the floor. Blitzo had suggested they start writing down their stories about Stapler and Twilight, with Stolas being the writer and Blitzo being the artist. Blitzo took the lead mostly; he was the more imaginative one, but Stolas knew lots of big words, and that impressed the imp.
“….and then, there was more blood!!” Blitzo scribbled a load of red over the page.
“Blitzo! Why does every race have to end in a horse getting hurt?!”
“Cuz it’s funny! Look, this one got his leg chopped off, and now he’s got…ugh, what’s that thing called? Laminator?”
“…Laminitis?”
“Yeah, that! A one-legged horse! Yar!”
Stolas didn’t bother correcting the imp on the technicalities of laminitis. Instead, he just shook his head and got back to writing yet another bloody horse scene. A knock at the door jolted them back to reality.
“Dang it, those two hours go super quick,” Blitzo sighed. “Ugh, and I gotta do my chores when I get home, too!”
Chores. Stolas had no concept of what a chore was before he met Blitzo, but now he knew it meant some irritating task the imp hated with a passion. He made a small, understanding face of disdain.
“I wish you could stay longer,” Stolas said. “Maybe I can ask my dad if we can extend your visits!”
Blitzo’s eyes lit up. “Good idea! If it gets me outta sweeping animal crap, I’m in!”
At that moment, Pringles entered the room.
“Pringles! Can we talk to—”
He raised a hand, silencing Stolas. “It is time for Blitzo to leave. And it will be the last time you see him for a while.”
Stolas’s heart lurched. Oh no. Had they been found out? Were they caught outside of his room?
“Wh… why?” he managed.
“His father has informed us that the circus will be touring for six months through the rings of Hell. Blitzo will not be able to visit during that time.”
Six months.
Stolas glanced at Blitzo. Did he know?
“What the crap?!” Blitzo snapped. “That sucks! Ugh, I wanna stay in Pride—it’s my home!” He stomped his foot, scowling.
Judging by his reaction, he hadn’t known either.
Stolas couldn’t find his voice.
“Come along, Blitzo,” Pringles said. “The car is waiting.”
Tears welled at the corners of Stolas’s eyes, his chest tightening. What did this mean for their friendship? Would he ever see Blitzo again? What if the circus never stopped touring? What if Blitzo didn’t want to come back, even if he could?
He sniffed and stared down at the floor.
Suddenly, a red arm slipped around his shoulder. Blitzo leaned in close, his voice low.
“Don’t worry, Stols. I’ll figure something out," he whispered into his ear.
Stolas looked up, red eyes shining. “Really?”
Blitzo gave him a firm nod, confidence settling back into his grin. “Yeah. You trust me?”
Stolas nodded, wiping at his eyes.
Blitzo squeezed his shoulder a final time. “See ya, Stols.”
Before Stolas could say goodbye, Blitzo had followed Pringles out of the room, leaving him alone once more.
The next month was hard on the young owl. Not knowing if he would ever see—or even hear from—his best friend again left him sad and hopeless. He tried to ask his father about Blitzo, but his father was always away from the palace, occupied with important work. The palace had never felt so empty.
Then, one morning after breakfast, when he was at his desk practicing reading his grimoire, Pringles entered his room.
“Stolas, you have a phone call.”
A phone call? His head whipped up from his book. That was when his ears detected the faint hum of a jingle playing out of Pringle's hand. He wasn’t holding a palace phone—those were massive things with cords and rotary dials. This one was sleek and modern, with a wide, glowing screen.
Stolas carefully set his book on the desk and hurried to the door. Who in Hell would be calling him?
“Who is it?” he asked.
“The little imp boy.”
No. It couldn’t be!
Stolas’s breath caught. “Blitzo? Really?!”
He was so confused! Blitzo didn’t have a phone (neither did he, but that was for reasons of safety and not because his family couldn’t afford one), so how had he managed to get in touch, and with Pringles of all imps?
Pringles handed him the phone with a flat look on his face. “Answer it, or he’ll hang up.”
“Yes, right, thank you!” Stolas blurted, trying to contain his excitement. Pringles gave him a nod and left the room. He ran and jumped on his bed.
His heart beat fast as he tapped the green button. The screen flickered—and suddenly Blitzo’s face filled it, squashed comically against the glass.
Not just a phone call.
A video call?
“Blitzo?!” he squeaked out. The imp on the other side of the screen grinned wildly.
“Stols!” he yelled. “CAN YOU HEAR ME?”
“Yeah!” He rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his feet with glee. “How did you…”
“Ha, I told ya I’d work somethin' out!” Blitzo moved the camera away from his face so Stolas could see he was outside, the red sky of Pride above him. “This is my Papa’s phone.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah. He wouldn’t stop bitchin' about how we weren’t selling enough tickets in Wrath and how we ‘needed more advertising.’ I stood on a sidewalk handing out flyers for five hours, Stols.”
The owl grimaced. “That sounds… unpleasant.”
“It was Hell. No pun intended.” Stolas chuckled. “Anyway, he got a phone book and said he was gonna start calling random numbers to convince people to come. Which is where I jumped in and said I’d do it."
“Oh, Blitzo, you’re so clever.”
“I know.” He smirked, and Stolas felt his face warm. “But I can’t stay on long, or people’ll get suspicious."
“But how did you even have this number?”
“I was scrolling through contacts and saw one labeled ‘imp butler.’ Took a gamble.”
So Pringles hadn’t just answered—he’d allowed Stolas to talk to Blitzo.
“Anyhoo, clock’s tickin’ and I gotta practice with Barb soon, so… how’ve ya been?”
Stolas sighed, turning onto his back. He held the phone above his head.
“Bored. Piano lessons are the only thing I have to look forward to.”
“Oh, birdie, that’s bullshit.” Blitzo paused, glancing off-camera. “Hey—wanna see what our horses have been up to?”
“Of course!”
Blitzo's face lit up. He jumped off the swing, the camera shaking as he ran. The background changed from sky to ceiling, and Stolas heard him rummaging in what he assumed was his room. He came back after a moment, holding a wad of paper.
“Oookay, so the one-legged horse was mad cuz he got his leg cut off. So, as payback, he stole all the cheese from the party!” He turned over the page. “Stapler got sooo pissed ‘cause he knew that cheese was his favourite food ever, so he stomped and kicked the fridge!”
“I don’t think horses can eat cheese,” Stolas interjected. “They’re lactose intolerant.”
“Fuck books, Stols, this is pretend! You can do whatever the Hell you want!”
“Well, in that case,” Stolas said confidently, “I want Twilight to have wings.”
“There ya go!” Blitzo started scribbling just out of frame, his tail flicking behind him. After a few minutes, he put the picture back up on the screen. The drawing showed Stapler standing in awe while Twilight soared above him, wings spread wide.
“Good?”
“Perfect,” Stolas said softly. “So what happens next?”
“I dunno. That’s as far as I got."
“BLITZO! Practice time!” a girl’s voice, he guessed was his sister Barbie, yelled from off-screen.
“Crap, I gotta go practice a new routine. We’re goin’ to Lust on Monday for a Valentine’s Day special performance." Blitzo stuck his finger in his mouth, pretending to gag on it.
“Valentine’s?”
“You don’t know what Valentine's is?”
Stolas shook his head.
“It’s when adults are super lovey around each other.”
“Super gross,” Barbie interjected from beside Blitzo.
“But for kids, it’s when you send your secret admirer a Valentine's!” Blitzo continued, “Like, you leave it for them on their desk at school, but they dunno who it’s from.”
Oh, that sounded thrilling! Stolas wished he’d been able to go to school like Blitzo and his sister did.
“Have you ever sent a secret valentine?” Stolas couldn’t help but ask.
“Ew, no.” Blitzo immediately answered, then paused before adding. “But maybe I will this year!”
“Oooh…you gonna finally give Fizz one?” Barbie came slightly into frame, whispering in Blitzo’s ear.
“Barb, shhh!” Blitzo went a deeper shade of red. “Maybe…I…I dunno.”
Stolas felt a pang of jealousy hit his chest. He knew Blitzo and Fizz were close — Fizz was his best friend. They had known each other since they were babies, and Blitzo told Stolas many stories about how funny Fizz was, how good he was at juggling and making balloon animals. He knew it was silly of him to feel that way; people could have as many friends as they wanted! But if Blitzo was going to give him a Valentine's…did that mean he liked Fizz more than him?
“Anyway! Gotta shoot, birdie!”
He shook the thought away, focusing back on Blitzo. "When will you call again?”
“Next week? We’ve got Tuesday off.”
“Blitzo, come onnnn!” Barbie pulled at Blitzo's suspenders.
“Ugh, coming! See ya, birdie.”
“Bye, Blitzo.”
The screen went black, once again leaving Stolas alone. He threw the phone on the bed and plodded over to his desk. He glanced over at his stack of school books, despair setting in at how much studying he had to do. His grimoire was sitting on top, and he noticed a piece of paper sticking out of it. He pulled it out and remembered he had hidden one of Blitzo’s drawings in there, where he hoped no one would find it.
It was the last part of the story Blitzo had drawn before he was taken away. The one where Stapler won the race, even if he only won because he tripped up the other horse and made them lose their leg. He was wearing a big crown, and Twilight was standing next to him with a big smile on his face. To the side, a pool of red blood and a horse with only three legs lay on the floor, crying its eyes out.
As grotesque as it was, having one of Blitzo’s drawings as a keepsake made their now long-distance friendship feel a little bit closer. Their phone call had lifted his spirits immeasurably, but he couldn’t help a niggling feeling in his stomach that made him think Blitzo was only doing it to keep him happy. Blitzo had a sister, a best friend, a whole tribe of other imps and demons to play with every day… he had none of that. His only other friend was his butler. Maybe he was right. Maybe Blitzo was only taking pity on him.
No, he couldn’t think like that. Blitzo had promised to find a way to keep in touch, and he had. He had risked getting in trouble with his father just to see him again. Surely, he wouldn’t go to such lengths if he didn’t think of Stolas as a friend.
He wanted to show Blitzo how much he appreciated him. He was the best friend any owl could ask for. His eyes were drawn to the pot of colored pens on his desk, untouched since Blitzo’s last visit.
He had an idea.
True to his word, Blitzo called a week later. Stolas was tending his plants in the garden with Pringles when his phone vibrated. Stolas jumped up from the muddy earth and looked at his butler with hopeful eyes.
“The imp is calling,” he answered, passing the phone to him. “Return to your room.”
Right, that was smart. Pringles had clearly not told anyone about their secret, so it made sense to keep it as discreet as possible. He nodded his thanks and ran as quickly as his little legs could carry him back to his room. He answered the second the door closed.
“Whoa, birdie, you good?” Blitzo chuckled as he caught his breath. Much like Twilight, he would not be winning any races anytime soon.
“Yes…I’m…fine.”
“Dude, don’t go dying on me,” the imp teased.
“No! Never!” He lay down on his bed. “How are you, Blitzo?”
“Eh, fine. Kinda sore from yesterday.”
“From the Valentine's performance?”
“Yeah…got one of my cartwheels wrong and landed funny.”
“Oh dear, are you okay? Do you need to see a doctor?”
Blitzo snorted. “A doctor? With what money? I’m fine, Stols.”
“Okay, sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing? I’m the one complaining.”
"Sor—" Stolas caught himself. They giggled.
“Sooooo, whatcha wanna do? I dunno if I can stay on as long. I’m playin’ pirates with Fizz once he’s done with chores.”
Fizz. Of course. Maybe his idea had been a mistake. Oh well, at least if Blitzo hated it, he could just hang up and never speak to him again.
“Well…I, actually…I made you something.”
“For me? What is it?”
He nervously walked over to his desk, opening the drawer where he had been hiding his creation all week. His hands trembled slightly as he showed the camera.
Stolas gulped. “I…made you a Valentine's card.”
On the front of the card, he had drawn Stapler and Twilight (not as good as Blitzo’s, but he copied them to make them as similar as possible). They were standing snout-to-snout, smiling and sticking their tongues out at each other. Above the drawing, he had written ‘Happy Valentines’ in his best cursive writing.
“Oh, and inside,” he turned the paper to show Blitzo. “It…it says: ‘To Blitzo. Thank you for being my best friend. From Stolas.”
He waited for the imp to say something, but he just stared at him, tiny pupils darting around the screen.
“Do…do you like it?”
Blitzo blinked, suddenly aware he'd not responded.“It’s great, Stols! Though you did kinda ruin the surprise, you’re not supposed to say it’s from you!”
“But…who else could it have been?”
They laughed in unison and the tension between them melted away. Phew, Blitzo did like it! It wasn’t weird at all!
“I hope to be able to give it to you again when you’re back in Pride.”
“Yeah! I wanna put it next to my other Valentine.”
His stomach dropped. “Your…other one?”
Blitzo paused, like he realized he’d slipped up. He gulped and pulled at his T-shirt.
“Oh, yeah, no, that’s nothing. Just…”
“Did you get one from Fizz?”
Blitzo's gaze dropped away from the screen. “Yeah. But, like, you can have more than one! There’s no rule to say you can only have one secret admirer!”
“Of course. Yes. He's your best friend,” Stolas said, careful to keep the jealousy from creeping into his voice.
“Yeah, yeah… but I like yours too!” Blitzo blurted.
“Thank you,” he replied, a little stiffly.
An awkward silence settled between them as they both searched for something to say. Thankfully, Blitzo broke it by launching into a story about the weird calls he’d had while trying to drum up business for the circus.
Only fifteen minutes had passed when the infamous Fizz’s voice could be heard from outside Blitzo’s room, calling him to play.
“Woof, he was fast today. Well, I gotta go, I suppose.”
But Stolas didn’t want Blitzo to leave. He saw Fizz almost every day; time with Blitzo felt much rarer now. He shoved the feeling aside and took a steadying breath.
“Will you call next week?”
Blitzo nodded. “Uh-huh! Dunno when our next day off is, but I will. Okay, later!”
“—Bye.”
Blitzo was already gone by the time Stolas said goodbye, clearly eager to run off and play with his friend. Stolas pressed his palm to his face and sighed. Why was having a friend so hard?
The weekend arrived. While other children enjoyed a break from their studies, Stolas attended "etiquette lessons," as Pringles called them. They taught him how to sit up straight, use the proper cutlery, and make "small talk." The lesson felt like a chore, but Pringles insisted that every Goetia must learn this after turning ten, so he had no choice.
After what seemed like the millionth napkin fold, he was finally let go for the afternoon. He could now spend time in the garden, his favorite spot in the palace. Pringles took him back to his room to change from his royal clothes into something more casual.
“I do hope my roses are doing okay; they looked sad last week…” He was so busy rambling about his plants to Pringles that he hardly noticed when Pringles opened the door for him, and he did not follow him inside.
He stopped in his tracks, as there, standing at the foot of his bed, was his best friend.
“Blitzo?!”
He ran directly at the imp and hugged him with such force that he nearly toppled over. “Ooft!” Blitzo gasped, then laughed, then steadied himself.
“Hey! Whoa! You got taller!”
“Really? But it’s only been a month!”
“Yeah, but now we’re the same height!” Blitzo put a hand between them to prove his point. Stolas's forehead aligned perfectly with Blitzo's.
“What are you doing here?”
"Uh… to surprise you, duh!”
“But your father said…”
“Ehh, Lust was a bust. After Valentine's, no one bothered comin' anymore, and traveling is expensive. Got back to Pride yesterday, thank Satan. I missed my own bed!”
“I’m so glad you are here again!” Stolas flapped his wings. He turned back to Pringles. “Does Father know Blitzo is here?”
“He does. As long as you follow the same rules as before.” He turned to Blitzo. “The imp is here to teach you to be more of a man, and you are to help him with his reading and writing. Understood?” he said firmly.
The boys nodded.
Pringles nodded, a small smile appearing under his mustache. “Two hours. Best behavior.” He walked toward the door, pausing and turning back again.
“Have fun, young prince." He winked.
“Hey, your butler is kinda cool.”
"He... he is.”
The pair sat down on the floor. He tucked his hands under his legs to stop himself from flapping so much. He was so happy to have his friend back!
“Oh, before I forget! I got somethin’ for ya…” Blitzo stuck his hands in his pocket and pulled out a pink card.
“Sorry, it’s a bit messed up, but I didn’t want anyone to see it!”
Stolas unfolded the crumpled pink paper with care, while Blitzo gave him an encouraging nod. It was hard to see through all the creases, but it was distinctly a Blitzo drawing, and not just any drawing.
"I know I'm late, but…Happy Valentine's, Stols."
Stapler and Twilight stared back at him, surrounded by a ring of love hearts and stars. He had also made a good effort to write "Happy Valentine's", even though he was missing a few vowels. To Stolas, it didn't matter - this felt more special anyway.
He grabbed Blitzo and pulled him into a hug. "Thank you, I love it so much!" he exclaimed, speaking into the imp's shoulder.
Blitzo snorted. “You birds are so emotional.”
Stolas laughed and pulled back, looking down at the card again…
…when, out of nowhere, a kiss landed on his cheek.
“Wha—”
“AHH—WHAT WAS THAT?!” Blitzo shouted, turning the owl's head around and pointing at the wall. “WOW. Did you see that? I swear I saw a ghost!”
Stolas blinked. Once. Twice.
Did Blitzo kiss him?
He put his hand over his cheek, feeling it go warm. However, he had no time to react as the imp suddenly yanked him up off the floor.
“Come on, birdie, we gotta catch that ghost before it gets Pringles!” Blitzo urged, nudging him toward the door, his tail thumping lightly against the floor.
“Okay! I’m coming,” Stolas laughed softly.
Blitzo ran ahead, leaving Stolas with a quiet moment of his own. He held his Valentine’s card a little closer, talons curling around it as if to keep the fuzzy feeling with him just a bit longer. Carefully, he set it on his desk, resting it atop his collection of Blitzo drawings.
A small trill of excitement escaped his beak. Whatever happened in the years to come, he wished, more than anything, that Blitzo would stay in his life. That they could keep playing pirates, racing horses, being each other's Valentine’s.
Best friends. Forever.
