Almost half an hour passed by, Kaden read without much interest. The book was about a centaur who had been looking for his mistress, traveling for weeks and surviving off of the wild around him, hunting animals and killing anyone who stepped in his way. Kaden yawned. How boring. It was way too ‘romance novel’ and less ‘dramatic’ to him. Throwing the book back onto the nightstand, the demon stretched and winced as he put a hand on his chest. It was as though his muscles healed, but they still ached in a way that made him feel where he had cut earlier.
With a groggy grunt, Kaden sat up, rubbing his forehead and calling out blearily. “Deiru? Fuck…” He called out, whispering his curse word while closing his eyes. Sitting up too fast was a bad idea, but at least he was feeling better. Kaden felt incredibly useless, unable to do much without feeling light-headed, and it was all self inflicted. With a grumble he glanced at his door, hoping that the other demon would actually answer back.
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"Why is it that, as a culture, we are more comfortable seeing two men holding guns than holding hands?"
~Ernest Gaines
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