"Oi, can you move out the way?"

The shout had come so close to her that Bonnie almost spilled the lukewarm drink in her hand for the umpteenth time that night. She'd forgotten how sweaty and packed clubs were, especially on a student night. It also didn't help that they'd got to the club just after one o'clock, and the rest of its occupants had clearly been drinking for a good few hours before. Stepping to the side, she apologised loudly to the person, making sure she could be heard over the thumping music. A yelp escaped her as he shoved past without another word, and she quickly threw her drink back in an attempt to loosen up more, wondering how people could attend places like this sober.

At first when she'd seen the outfit Gremory had given her, she'd worried that it wasn't nice enough to be out in, but as she watched a girl go past in a t-shirt dress and trainers, she was grateful for the comfortable flares. At least she wouldn't be cold when they left.

Although, when that would be was a different question. As soon as they had got to the club, Gremory had spoken to the bouncer at the front door and they'd skipped the queue, being ushered in down the VIP line. He'd stayed with her as they'd got to the bar and ordered a drink, but after a few minutes he'd excused himself and disappeared into the crowd, leaving Bonnie with a silent Kimaris. She had tried to talk to him, but when she finally thought of something to say, two girls had pushed in beside her and she couldn't get close enough to hear him, let alone talk.

That was okay, though. Gremory would be back soon to take her with him to see his friend. Or at least that's what she assumed. However, as minutes began to drag and she got pushed further from the packed area and into the sidelines, she started to think that maybe that wasn't the case. She looked to see if she could spot him through the strobe lighting and flashing colours, but it was an impossible task. She'd have more luck spotting Kimaris with his height, but, like the shadow he usually was, he'd faded into the darkness.

And she was left—alone and unimportant.

As she stood listening to the music, the tight feeling in her chest sank even deeper.

She didn't seem to fit in here anymore, either.

The last time Bonnie had been in a nightclub was 2017, and back then, it made her feel free; surrounded by a sea of people and dancing until her feet hurt. She could forget about problems and drink as much alcohol as her stomach would allow. Strangers felt like friends and the music carried you, with all inhibitions flying out the door the minute your feet hit the dance floor.

But now—Bonnie felt old.

It wasn't the change of fashion that did it—she kind of liked the more casual look instead of the heels she'd forced herself to wear every outing—or the fact that the first person she'd accidentally stumbled into looked as though they were still in school. No, it wasn't either of those things.

What made her feel the most out of place was that for the first time in her life, she didn't know the song that was playing. No matter where she went, or what was on, she always used to at least know the melody; the notes that dropped or the beat that made your hips sway. But all she heard now was something that she didn't recognise.

She barely recognised herself anymore.

Putting the empty plastic cup onto one of the sticky bar tables along the edge of the wall, she headed in the opposite direction from the crowds. She could feel the creeping anxiety making its way up her spine, and her feet hurried as she followed the signs that showed a cigarette and smoke.

She wondered whether anyone would even notice she had gone. It wasn't as though they'd been monitoring her. As she pushed past a waddle of stumbling drunk men who were taking up the width of the hall, she was relieved to step out onto a cobbled street surrounded by barriers.

Trying not to look too shaken up, she walked to the edge of the area, situating herself in the furthest and quietest corner available. She tried to ignore the looks from people as she went, but her insecurity made it feel as though every pair of eyes watched her. She knew they weren't really, but her nerves had already convinced her she stuck out like a sore thumb.

"What am I doing here?" she whispered to herself, biting the skin of her pinky.

Even with the outfit, her styled hair, and the small amount of makeup that she'd put on, she felt like a fraud. Everyone was here to have a good time. What exactly was she here for?

It's not as if that information had actually been divulged to her. Despite asking repeatedly why they were going to see a friend in a club, and why exactly she was being dragged along, she hadn't received an answer. Gremory had done his best to avoid giving more information and rushed her along with haste, stating that they had little time to get to the club before it closed.

She didn't even try to ask the other one.

Bonnie sighed, turning to face away from the other people in the area and instead out to the scenery.

There was an entire world out there, so why was she standing here, feeling like she shouldn't be? And how depressing was it to feel that way, in a nightclub of all places?

Grunting, she attempted to look up at the sky, pushing herself forward on the railing to see above the wooden cover hanging over the area. She could barely reach far enough to see anything past the bamboo slats.

"Looking for an escape route?"

With a groan, she pulled herself back and peered to her right, rolling her eyes when she saw who was standing, holding a cup out to her.

"What's this for? To knock me out and put me on another train?" she asked bitterly.

Kimaris raised a brow as she took the offering anyway, peeking into the clear liquid.

"It's just a gin and lemonade, but if you'd prefer to be knocked out, I can go back and ask for tequila?"

Bonnie's reply died in her mouth. Thrown—because Kimaris could actually joke—she chose instead to take a sip of her drink, looking back at the night sky.

"I was actually trying to see if I could see any stars, but as usual, light pollution prevents that," she explained begrudgingly, motioning upwards and leaning against the rail.

He peered up at the sky, tilting on one leg to get a better view.

"Huh. You're right. I've never thought about it."

"You've never thought about the stars?" she asked, disbelief in her tone. "Ever?"

Shrugging, he took the spot beside her. "After seeing them for thousands of years, you forget they're there. They never really change."

Thousands of years.

Bonnie took another gulp of her drink. At least she had an answer now for how old the two men were.

"Lucky you," she mumbled, staring out into the air, "The hotel across from my flat has neon lights that make sure I never manage, even on the nights I'm not working. I can't tell you the last time I saw them."

Liar, she thought to herself as images of three young girls and sleeping bags made their way into her mind. You know exactly when.

"Don't get out of the city much?" Kimaris guessed, breaking her from her haze, "I guess with everything at your doorstep, there's no need to."

She scoffed.

"Something funny?"

"Oh," she stumbled, a grimace flitting over her features, "I just thought you were joking."

"Why would I joke about that?" he asked, returning to his relaxed stance beside her. "Is there not everything you humans enjoy? Bars, clubs, shops, cinemas, restaurants—I could keep going, but I think the club would close before I reached the end."

A barely there smile tugged at her lips, and when it surfaced, her melancholy memories that lingered in the back of her mind had tinged it. How strange it was to be standing here, with Kimaris, of all people, thinking about the past. Maybe it was the undeniable truth that lay in the club behind her that made it all come to the surface. She wanted to thank the alcohol that had slipped down her body and made speaking much easier.

"That would all be great if I had anyone to share it with," she admitted quietly, looking into her glass. "It's hard to do on your own."

She felt him tense at her words, and then immediately deflate.

"About what I said before in the cafe, I—"

"It's okay," she interrupted. It was only as she looked up that she realised her eyes had become blurred. The lights above them streaked across her vision as she tried to blink it away. "You were right — I am completely unimportant and forgettable. Along with being completely alone."

But he had to have known that. If the reason the demon was going to kill her was that no one would care, then Kimaris had to know that she had lived in solitude for a while.

Would it always be like that? Would she always be looking out, wishing to see stars and only seeing nothing, alone in her disappointment? Could she pull herself out of it even if she wanted to?

Beside her, she felt him shift, and quickly noticed the tears dripping onto her cheeks. Tilting her head down, she subtly tried to dab them away.

"It's far better to feel alone, and actually be alone, than it is to be surrounded by people and feel that way."

Standing under the grimy dim of fading fluorescent lights, Bonnie could see an expression on Kimaris' face that she hadn't thought he was capable of. Sadness. It had shocked her when Gremory had proved that a part of him was abundantly human, but this was something more. Maybe it was her own judgements and cynical thoughts that had made him seem so emotionless and dead inside, but now she saw a truth in him she hadn't expected. And his words rang so clearly in her mind that it was impossible to not notice how it changed him.

Sharp corners now looked arched, softened by the haunted look that, even from the side, was clear to see. His demeanour that had frightened her previously now appeared as though it was curling in on itself, disgusted with the words he'd spoken.

It only lasted a moment, a fleeting truth that Bonnie swore brought their arms closer together. The faint music inside thumping in the same way her heart did. But then he straightened up and cleared his throat, sipping his drink once again.

"And anything is better than hanging out with Gremory, obviously."

She hummed a sound of amusement. It was nice that he was talking more, but a piece of her was still back in that moment, wondering what else was underneath the surface of the man she'd thought to have no emotions. It was like being shown a clip of a movie and then turning off the rest.

"Oh, come on. He's not bad," she grinned.

"If he wasn't so useful, I would have ditched him a long time ago."

She'd like to have said that she could hear the joking tone in his voice, but she wasn't sure she did.

"What exactly makes him so useful?" she grinned, turning to face him. "His ability to disappear into clubs?"

She had only been joking, but by the tilt of Kimaris' head, he wasn't. Her hand gripped the railing.

"Do you guys have superpowers or something? Are you about to tell me you can fly?"

Now it was his turn to grin, and Bonnie felt her eyes pop at the sight of it. The know-it-all smirk on his face was one thing, but he looked genuinely amused at her words. The tilt of his lips showed incredibly white, pointed teeth, and it was almost impossible to not mirror it. It had to have been one of the nicest smiles Bonnie had ever seen.

"If I could fly, we wouldn't have got the train," Kimaris pointed out. "Trust me. I'd much rather have flown here. And no—we don't have superpowers, we just have... heightened abilities."

"Right," she snorted. "That's exactly what people with superpowers would say."

With a roll of his eyes, he took another drink, ignoring her statement.

"Our abilities aren't as strong here as they are in other realms, but they're still pretty powerful. It's why people used to summon us for specific things, for situations that we were affluent in. By picking a being that had a certain skill, you were bound to be successful."

Gremory had clearly been correct when he said that things could be overwhelming for her. Currently, Bonnie was gaining more questions than she was having answered. With every piece of information, her mind was stretching further than she'd expected. She was leaving other realms and summoning to a different day.

"Some of us have skills that are far more useful here than anywhere else—take Gremory for instance. Where I struggle to... well... how do I put this?" he sighed. "Where I struggle to charm people, Gremory has a special talent for doing it with his eyes closed."

Almost immediately, thoughts of all of their conversations resurface, her mind ticking over the moments where her heart threatened to jump out of her chest, and he had eased it back down with a gentle hand.

"Gremory can charm people?" she double checked, making sure that she hadn't misheard him. "Like, convince them to do anything?"

"Sort of," Kimaris replied casually, continuing to sip his drink and look over to the babble of drunk people falling into the smoking area, "Not as far as completely brain washing them, but he's got a knack for convincing the mass that his opinions are correct, as well as getting out of some sticky situations with just a smile. I've lost count of the amount of times he's just about been knocked out, as well as the amount of woman who have thrown themselves at his feet. He doesn't even have to try."

Remembering the way she'd felt previously, Bonnie realised maybe she wasn't crazy to think she'd sensed something strange going on between the two of them. Was it that Gremory had charmed her into submission? Was that why he'd persuaded her so easily to come along and had felt at ease around him?

"Does it work on everyone?"

"He has more luck with the ladies, especially older woman. No idea why, it's just always been that way, especially now in his current form. I didn't think it could get worse, but I think if he walked into an old folks' home, there might be a few heart attacks."

She wanted to laugh—the image of Gremory being followed by a gaggle of grandmothers was hilarious, but the sound that came from her mouth was strained and cracked in the cold air. Kimaris quickly looked down at her, taking in the slightly shocked expression on her face and the almost audible ticking of her mind.

"It sounds like a concerning thing, but honestly, he never uses it for anything lewd or bad. I've tried to get him to—believe me—but his hopelessly romantic heart would never let him. He's not exactly interested in the clientele that it works on, either."

"Humans?" Bonnie guessed, the downturn to her voice slipping in without warning. Even if Gremory had been welcoming to her, that didn't mean that he saw her as an equal. Who would when you were thousands of years old and had powers that could bend people to your will?

To the side of her, Kimaris wrinkled his nose and squinted at the woman who was wrapped up in her thoughts, amused confusion crinkling his skin. "Sure, humans."

She nodded, finding comfort in the alcohol she held. "So Gremory can charm every person in a room. What's your special talent?"

On the side of his neck, a vein jumped.

"Like I said, some of us have skills that aren't as useful," Kimaris mumbled. When silence greeted him, he looked over at her quickly and sighed at her expecting expression. "I'm good at locating things."

An ability to turn people to stone with a look, or silence them forever with a grumble, would have been a more fitting gift.

"That's it?" Bonnie asked after a few moments. The look she was given was not a favourable one.

"I mean, I'm advanced in rhetoric too, but yes."

Her face scrunched up. "What, like you can edit an essay for me? Help me with my grammar?"

"It's more than that—"

"You're a human autocorrect too?"

"You might find it pointless in this day and age, but a couple hundred years ago, it was quite important," he retorted, looking pissed off. "Try telling your ancestors that it was unimpressive and let me know how that works out for humanity."

The confidence she had found faded with the tone of his voice and as his sharp edges returned, so did her fear. It sprinkled through her sporadically, influenced by the darkness that hovered over their conversation.

"Sorry," she mumbled, staring longingly at her empty cup. "I didn't mean—"

"I don't need your apology," Kimaris glared, cutting her off bitterly. "The day I require an apology from a human, I'll let you know, along with how to kill me as to prevent such an embarrassment to myself and my race. Until then—keep it to yourself."

The words stung. Prickled with daggers that aimed to cause pain, they hit Bonnie with an unexpected force, blindsiding her. Luckily, the years of insults had thickened her skin, letting them only impale her a fraction of the amount they should have.

"No problem," she hissed, pushing herself away from the railing, "I'll keep me, and my boorish human mouth shut."

Although scared of him, his words had pushed up an anger in her that had previously laid dormant. Humans had always been cruel, and she had learned to deal with that. But who did he think he was that he could look down on her, a demon of all things? She'd began to believe that maybe they had a kinder side to them. Clearly, she was wrong.

"Appreciated," Kimaris spat back, following her movements. "I could feel myself regressing with every word you spoke."

Regressing.

She let out a brittle laugh. "I didn't ask to be here, you know."

"Oh, I'm well aware. I'm not the one who wanted to bring you," he snidely replied, dumping his empty glass onto a nearby table. "You're only here because Gremory thinks you could be useful."

"He does?"

Bonnie's voice was soft in comparison now, the surprise in it causing the shake in his shoulders to still a little. She hated it, but she knew even he could hear the almost hopeful tilt it contained. It had been a while since anyone thought she'd be good for anything. Except clearing plates, that is.

"I wouldn't feel special. He's often too optimistic for his own good and can't be told." Kimaris barely looked at her as he took his phone from his pocket and checked the screen. "That's exactly why we're here, because he thinks the idiot inside can actually help us, intead of realising that he's such as useless as the rest of them."

Standing there, lording over everyone, his stance annoyed her. After seeming almost apologetic about his previous harsh words, he'd just doubled down without a breath.

"I can't believe I thought you guys were angels," mumbled Bonnie, crossing her arms as she moved to push past him, her feet scuffing on the uneven ground. She was sick of standing here conversing with a person who barely saw her as worth his time. "I should have seen that was impossible, that requires an amount of good."

With a jolt, she was brought to a stop, her arm caught in a vice that refused to let her go. A few people looked over at the scene but quickly went back to their conversations. Upon seeing what expression was on Kimaris' face, she didn't blame them. Disgust, unlike any she'd ever seen, had painted itself onto every feature, and the sinking feeling in her chest dropped to a pit.

"You humans and your adoration of angels, as if they're some wholly good beings that give a shit about you, like they can do no wrong." A warbled sound that could have once been a laugh slipped through. "You have no fucking clue. But you will."

Before Bonnie could say anything, Kimaris had dragged her from the area and through the door back into the hallway, his long legs making her stumble after him. To anyone else, she probably looked drunk.

"Where are you taking me?"

He didn't reply at first, instead pushing past a couple kissing against the wall with a forceful shove. They stopped at the door with thrumming music behind it. A masochistic grin stretched across his face, and as he pulled the handle, he pushed her through the now open doorway, following not even a step behind.

"You wanted an angel." He announced as he pulled her through the crowd. "So I'm giving you one. Then you can see just how good they truly are."

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AN/ I am still hoping to enter this in the watty's - a very brave goal with only two weeks until the deadline, but im hoping to make it. SO, there may be super frequent uploads coming your way! 

I hope you enjoyed, what do you think so far?

love ellis x