((I'd like that a whole lot! Obviously, Juliet is gonna fear him for a little bit, though she's not gonna tell him that. She'll learn to accept his nature! Awww! Baby, Qhuinn's gonna have a father.))
Juliet wasn't sure she wanted to hand over any information about her son just yet. She watched him as he locked the door and closed the curtains. Dread, panic, and fear filled the pit of her stomach. She inched closer to her son, pulling him on to her lap. He gave a slight squeal of protest before settling once more, playing with the necklace that dangled from her neck. She trained her blue eyes on Zackary and remained silent.
Zackary looked up at her. His gray eyes were softer than what they were. Softer than any Demon’s. Not a lot of Demons could soften like he could, he knew that. He chewed on his lip nervously and turned away.
“Sorry. I just wanted to know his name, not make you nervous.”
You make me more than nervous…she shuddered, but gave in. Just think of all the other nicknames he might come up with just for kicks.. "His name is Qhuinn. Qhuinn Alexander Ghuard. You may not call him anything else." She replied sharply, pulling her baby close to her chest.
Zackary noted the sharpness in her tone. What had happened to the afraid woman before?
“That’s a very nice name.” He turned back around, hardening his expression again, setting his jaw.
“We need to finalize your contract, however. I’d like to remind you that you would be branded with my mark and set under my rules. My rules are not strict. I will watch your son when you need me to, keep a watchful eye over him at night, and will protect him, and you, with my life. Is this what you want?” He had puffed himself out and had a monotonous, dull, learned-to-the-heart feel to it.
Juliet had almost forgotten about the marking. "Will it hurt? Everything about this contract seems a bit too easy for me…" she muttered. "Yes this is what I want." She blurted before she could take it back. She had done enough thinking. He was here to protect her and Qhuinn. Even if his rules were cruel, they couldn't be worse than Gram's
(TRIGGER WARNING)
Zackary swallowed. “No. I’ll just need a knife. You should put your son somewhere else. This… this won’t be pretty.” His arm tingled. On it were multiple places where he stabbed into himself. Of course, he was a Demon. He would just bleed for a while, not having done any damage, as he used the blood for the contract. It was better than using his people’s blood, which many other Demons did. Zackary didn’t mind stabbing into himself. Other, innocent, afraid people he did.
A knife…? Juliet tried to control her fear as she shakily stood, Qhuinn in her arms. She nodded because her tongue turned to lead and her body refused to turn and run. She took one step back, and then another. She turned fully and took Qhuinn to his room, laying him in his crib. He began to fuss, whimpering and whining as she turned on his mobile and backed away. She closed the door behind her, his cries ceasing as he found entertainment in the soft lullaby the machine played.
I'll be back soon.. she thought. She stopped by the kitchen, rifled through the drawers until she found a switch-blade. Once of many she kept around the house, for safety reasons. Perhaps she wouldn't need them anymore. She returned to the living room.
(Another warning)
Zackary chewed on his lip. He stuck out his hand for it. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just need it for my contract.” With his other hand, he moved the sleeve down, revealing fierce white, red and pink scars. Some fresh, some old, some longer, shorter or bloodier. Some looked scabbed over. It was entirely noticable, even from the peripherals.
“It’ll… it’ll only take a moment.”
With a gasp, Juliet was taken aback. His arm… "What did you do?" she cried, her eyes mirroring the panic that arose in her from the mere sight. She shook her head. "Why?" Why the cuts? Why so many?
Zackary took the knife and sighed. “It’s just… how I do things, okay? My arm is the most valuble of my body parts, after all. The most vunerable… Why I do it?” He looked up at her. “I wouldn’t want to stab this into you, nor your son. It’s my burden, I should carry the forever mark.”
Juliet snatched the blade back, "No." she growled firmly. There were two things that Juliet Ghuard hated most: People treating her like she was helpless; even if she very well was., and handouts. Call it her pride, but this felt so much like a handout. She held the blade away from him. "Your arm looks disgustingly butchered. You're giving my son and I a safety we could never attain on our own for the price of nearly nothing, and this is your burden?" She shook her head and pointed to his arm. "Those contracts? Those were burdens. This isn't going to be. I'm not afraid of getting cut." And she wasn't. Lord knows she had suffered worse things. She honestly didn't know why she was stopping him. She should've been glad to stay out of harm. But… it felt wrong. Juliet felt she owed some type of penance for what she had demanded of him. He would be protecting she and her son for the rest of their lives.
Zackary snatched the blade back in a surge of anger. She really didn’t understand. Each contract he took had some type of burden. Protecting one one hell of a burden. Not to mention, the scars were a keepsake of his, reminding him of who he was.
“Look. I’ve been doing this for over thousands of years. I know, this contract isn’t going to be a burden, but I stil want… to preserve it. And it’s just how I go about things. If you want a blade and a mark on your child, fine! Hurt him, and hurt yourself. But I’m not going to let you do that. It is my duty to protect you. I stab this knife so it hurts me and it damages me. If I were Human, I’d be dead after a few seconds. Do you want this on your arm?” He asked fiercely, pointing to a particularly bad and fresh stab in his arm.
"Does it look like I care!?!" she roared, her fists clenching. Let him do what he pleases she chided herself. Crossing her arms she looked him up and down, pushing down the sea of things she wanted to spew at him. "Fine." she spat. "Do what you want. Just get it over with." Perhaps she was being unfair, but her pride had been wounded, and it made her see red.
(Some major goreee)
“You’d care once it’s done,” Zackary whispered, with that, and with two swift motions, Zackary had cupped a good bit of blood in his hand. He knew it’d heal over soon. Next he needed his wings.
He tossed away the knife and sighed. “Look. I’m going to let my wings go. They’re big. Really big. Don’t get frightened by them, please.”
She raised a brow. 'As long as it doesn't ruin my livingroom." She muttered, though her voice shook. The blood in his hand almost made her gag, such an amount. Just to think, if she had kept on running her mouth, that would've been her blood in his hand. She silently grew grateful that he had denied her offer.
Zackary nodded and crossed the living room. “I’ll try my best,” was really all he could offer. His nickname was Wings, after all. He kneeled on the ground and shut his eyes, willing for his wings. Wishing for them. Requiring and telling them of their cause. They uncurled slowly from his back. And there was a good reason for his nickname. They were huge. If they unfurled out all the way, they might be around sixty feet. They were angelic yet black, but this didn’t deny the face of his wings, which were tipped with gray and white. The joints were a dark, dark red, making his feathers look like knives. His wings shivered as they gently touched the ceiling of the room. Zackary was impassive to the massive weight of his wings, somehow, and didn’t move from his kneeled pose. He kept his hand under the jab wounds, making sure no blood escaped into the carpet.
“Come here,” He finally spoke.
Sariel raised up her arms, and looked at Avilasa as she moved around. "So, what type of customer was that?" She asked, making sure to keep the same even tone. I have a pretty good idea of it, but it's better to hear her say it. The woman thought, her gaze unwavering.
Avilasa looked at the woman sharply. "I swear, if you go running to the police, I will kill you…" She stepped up to her and started feeling down the intruder. "I sell poison and my services. Mainly killing. I've been doing this for a while, but I've gotten plenty of narrow escapes from the police. It's insanely annoying." She scowled as she went down the dark clothed girl's sides.
Those wings…. Juliet's blue eyes grew wide. They were beautiful. She jumped when he spoke. How was she suppose to get around them? she narrowed her eyes as she took in the size once more. They were humongous. She took hesitant steps forward, her eyes on those wings. Can I touch them? They looked like knives, but surely they would hurt her for real. She reached a hand out but thought better of it.
Zackary looked up, his wings twitched towards her hand. “Take two feathers.” Now that she was closer, she could identify spots where feathers were missing.
“They won’t hurt you. They’re soft. Very.”
She was listening to him, her hands moving towards the feathers, yet they strayed. She ran a soft hand over a spot where the feathers were missing. He wanted her to pluck his feather? His beautiful feathers. She shook her head as tears clouded her vision. Just do it and get it over with, you can apologize later, Julie! It's almost over. She told herself as she pulled one feather, and then another. They were so soft. Lips trembling, she looked at him.
He rose slowly, his wings curving so that they were wrapped around her, too. They shivered behind her, but they warmed her back.
“Don’t cry,” Zackary softly said, smiling a little. It softened his handsome face tremendously. “It’ll be over soon.” He walked closer and pulled his hand out from under his arm. The one with the ton of blood.
“Dip the silver tips in my blood.”
She stepped closer as his wings wrapped around her. She gave a shaky breath and nodded. She looked at the silver tips of the feathers and then slowly dipped them in the blood. She looked away as she took them back out, blood dripping on her carpet.
This is morbid… she shuddered.
Zackary wiped his own blood on his jeans and grabbed the feathers tipped with his blood.
“Alright. Ready?” He looked at her steadily, his gray eyes hidden in emotion.
"For?" she panicked, backing away slightly. "What are we doing?" she asked as his wings stopped her, blocking her escape. Her eyes flicked to the blood he'd wiped on his jeans and back up.
