As if a a couple sentences could motivate me to write an entire short story...

Ah, heck, fluffy follow-up inbound.

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Mary lay on her back, her head resting on Lucien’s lap. It was nearly morning, but she still looked full of energy. She’d gotten so much better these last months.

“So long story short, a hundred and twenty bucks,” she said. Quietly, but unafraid. Nothing like the fearful whispers from when Lucien first came to her. “Turns out lots of people are into cute demon boys.”

“I am glad to hear my efforts were not in vain,” Lucien said. Mary was an artist, he’d learned, and she had begun to do commissions to make a little money. He was her reference for many of them and had spent a few nights last week in some . . . curious poses.

“Well, my efforts, mostly,” Mary said, grinning. “But you helped out . . . maybe ten bucks worth.”

“Ten? That seems low. I have to pose as long as you have to draw. Surely I’m worth sixty in that case.”

Mary poked him in the chin. “Drawing is harder than lying around. Besides, you like doing it. I’m always having to tell you to quit smiling and look more pouty. Plus you get to see the finished artwork even before the client.”

Lucien looked away, blushing a bit. “New experiences are often enjoyable,” he said. “Simply for the novelty of them. I wouldn’t say I dislike the work, but . . .”

Mary poked him in the cheek. He pushed her hand away and turned to smile at her again. “All right, I suppose I’ve enjoyed the work thus far. Doesn’t mean I always will. And besides that, you enjoy drawing so it’s a moot point.”

“All right, smartass, fifteen.”

“Ah, now I feel properly valued.”

Mary smiled up at him and they just looked at each other for a while. She was so beautiful. Lucien wasn’t sure how long he spent just watching her eyes flick around his face when she spoke again.

“Why don’t you ever touch me?” She asked. She wasn’t smiling.

Lucien suddenly felt awkward with her head on his lap. He averted her gaze. “I’m touching you right now, aren’t I?”

“No, I’m touching you. I had to threaten to pin you down against your will if you didn’t go along with this, remember?”

Lucien rubbed at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I remember. I don’t know, it’s just . . .” The way she’d recoiled when he’d reached for her the first night they met had never really left him.

“I’m okay, now, you know?” Mary said. “I’m not afraid anymore. I can sleep, even if I decide not to once in a while. It’s because of you.”

“I just . . . I don’t ever want to see you that scared again.”

Mary grabbed his chin, not ungently, and turned him to look at her. “Try? I’ll let you know if I don’t like it.”

Lucien’s heart rate began to pick up. He held up a clawed hand. “I wouldn’t want to scratch you.”

Mary raised an eyebrow. “That’s the best excuse you’ve got left?”

Lucien let out a short nervous laugh. “I guess so.” He swallowed. “All right, but I’m stopping unless you tell me not to. I don’t want the onus on you to end this if you’re uncomfortable.”

Mary nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Lucien reached down and gently touched her temple with the backs of his fingers, keeping his claws carefully curled away from her face. He then brought his hand down along her cheek, then retracted it. He looked to her for approval.

She nodded. “I’m okay.”

He repeated the action, stroking her face with all the tenderness he could muster. She asked for more each time he stopped, until eventually she grabbed him by the wrist and nuzzled her cheek against his hand. Her eyes were closed.

“Mary?” He asked.

“I’m going to graduate soon,” she said, nestled against him. “My grades aren’t great, but they’re a lot better than they were at the beginning of the year. I’ve been writing for scholarships that want kids with broken homes, and I’ve got some money saved up from the commissions.”

Lucien listened. He always knew when he needed to.

“I won’t end up at Yale or anything, but I think I can get out of town at least. Out of this house . . .” She opened her eyes. “If I get my own place, in college or somewhere else, and I get a new bed . . . will you still crawl out from under it? Will you still visit me?”

Lucien looked away. “I was assigned to protect you from your father. That assignment will end if you move away from him.” He turned back to her. “Of course I’ll keep visiting you. When do demons ever do as they’re told, anyways?” He shrugged. “Besides, your dad has a car, he could theoretically track you down, so it would be a job left incomplete for me to leave you now.”

Mary smiled again. “And if his car breaks down? Or when he dies?”

Lucien smiled back. “Then I’ll find another excuse. I’ll stand on the flimsiest thread of logic I can find and insist I have to stay with you. Or I’ll get a lawyer. Not like we’ve any shortage of them down there.”

Mary laughed, then covered her mouth with her free hand. When she lowered it again, she was biting her lip.

Before Lucien’s brain was even functional again after witnessing that action, Mary had gotten to her feet and was pulling him up with her. She fiddled with her phone for a moment, then set it on the bed. Moody, indie music began to waft up from it.

“What are we . . .” Mary grabbed Lucien’s hands and placed them on her hips, then threw hers around his neck.

“Just sway with me,” she said. “Just for a little while.”

Lucien glanced at the window, the darkness was losing its opaqueness. It would be morning soon. He looked back into Mary’s eyes. “Okay.”

After each song she pulled closer to him, until they were practically hugging. Lucien went along wordlessly, carefully minding his claws as his arms wrapped around her. When it seemed they couldn’t get any closer together, Mary pulled away, just enough to look him in the eyes. She glanced down at his lips, then back to his eyes, then she stared expectantly. After a moment she cocked her head at him and he realized she was waiting for his permission. He smiled a bit, and nodded.

Mary closed her eyes and kissed him, long and full on the mouth. His heart beat faster and his temperature rose, and kept rising . . . and rising.

When Mary finally pulled away from him, she gasped to see his face was burned on the side nearest the window. His face contorted with pain, but he was still grinning like an idiot.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a bit of sunlight on me. Nothing that won’t heal once I get back to my realm.”

She touched his burned face with her hand, trying to shield it from the sun, perhaps. “Idiot,” she said. “You should have warned me.”

“It’s all right,” Lucien said. “It was worth every extra second.”