Not Quite A Dream Girl (wonderwall meets misterking)

[MisterKing]

If Brian was being honest, he didn't have a problem waking up to a kiss, not even one from a stranger. He wasn't particularly different from most men in this regard, sure, but something was wrong about this one. Stirred by the soft pressure on his lips, he held stiff at the alarm in his gut, not even breathing until the kiss broke and his eyes snapped open, barely voluntarily. Meeting his gaze were two silver irises, adorned with eyeliner in a way that would've been extravagant on other women, yet it was merely appropriate here. The weight on him made sense now; she was sitting on top of him while he was laid on his bed. Wait, what?

A scrambled shove got his shoulder clear as his right coiled up and sprung into something sharp, lighting up his arm with flares of pain and a scream. No chin felt like that what the hell was going on?? He didn't mistake the trickle of blood as he tumbled out of the bed (he was free now? where'd she go?) and straightened himself. Head up, shoulders back, feet firm like he learned in those boxing lessons a few years back. Blood dripped from his raised fist, leaping from his knuckles to the carpet. Shit. A grim chuckle passed through his mind as he realized that at least his clothes would be fine since he was only in his boxers.

"Who the fuck are you!? We said hi like once at the gallery why are you in my bed!! Are those horns???"

 

[wonderwall]

Max cupped the boys chin with her colorless hands. It had to have been at least a century, since the last time she wished she could sleep. The boy under her stirred lightly at her touch, a slumberous mutter leaving his lips. Her long, almond shaped nails glistened against his skin like glossy black marbles. He was so peaceful, beautiful - in only the way a human could be of course. She liked this one. He was different. In fact, when she had first saw him at the gallery she thought he was a demon himself. His artwork was well dark enough to be created by one. Art was a window to the soul – and if his dreams were anything like his art. The edges of her full lips perked up at the corners at the thought. Her long hair surrounded his pillow as she bent down, falling into pools of silvery ink. With each exhale she could smell the scent of toothpaste still lingering, her lips now hesitated over mere inches from his. Anticipation was always the best part of the whole process.

Unfortunately her elation was short lived. Instead of the rush she normally felt, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. There was always something, no matter the state of the dream. Puppies, kittens, and wide eyed baby seals would've at least been something. What the hell, the voice in her head filled with disappointment and confusion. He had been dreaming, or at least started to, she had made sure of it. All humans dreamt, each night every night. The ones forgotten when awake, was the first sign that the dream had became a demons personal snack pack. Max pressed firmly onto his lips, mostly out of frustration, before pulling away. The thought of slapping him across the face tempting her as she started to straighten. A loud gasp was all she could manage as his eyes jerked open. Oh shit. Before she had the chance to flee the chaos broke quickly. Crack! The sound made her jump back more did the act of hitting her did. Lifting off of him her hands shot up the rough surface of horn.

Consider yourself lucky it wasn't my horn that you pumalled. Max exclaimed, levitating gently over the now blanket scattered bed. Now, calm down Brian..you don't want to hurt yourself more. Her big, lustrous eyes moved from his perked fists to his frightened face. Facing him fully she moved towards the end of the bed, her tall heeled boots making a small thud against the bedroom floor. A lump pressed deep in her throat, how was this possible? How was this human seeing her, truly seeing her? The questions plagued her already throbbing head. What was one even to do with this? Max crossed her arms against her chest, her deep thoughts and inner arguments coming out as mutters. Finally she let out an exaggerated sigh, I think these are the least of your worries at this particular moment, love. Her nails pointed at the set of horns curling out of the top of lavender colored waves.

In a few graceful steps she moved to a sleek armchair sitting by the window. With a light thud she sat herself down, slouching to the side enough to drape her long, shapely legs over the armrest. My name is Max, and I’m a demon, she shrugged holding her hands out to examine her nails. She had debated going on as it this were in fact a dream, but the irony was too much. It was safe to assume demons weren’t apart of his mundane life. A light chuckle left her, knowing there wouldn't be a lot to say to comfort him. I'm not going to hurt you. No matter what horrid creatures your movies made us out to be.

 

[MisterKing]

"So you're telling me that demons exist," He holds out a finger for each point. "they dress like goth high-schoolers, and they don't have it out for me? Mm hmm..." He walked out of the room.

Swinging by the fridge, he snatched out an IPA before heading to the bath. This merited a shower beer. "The hell do you want from me, then?" A double-edged pause as his boxers slipped to his feet. "Forgive the pun." He operated the knobs, twisted the top, and leaned back into the jets, willing his muscles to relax under the heat and the gentle massage of the water. One hand tipped the bottle to his lips, the other shook itself to work out that sore spot from earlier. Fucking hell those antlers hurt. He wondered if she could gore someone with them. "I don't know you, other than that one time, and unless you're the demon equivalent of autistic that's not how you ask for help. So either you're bad at introducing yourself, or you're bad at killing me. Pick one, hon." Another swig of beer swam down his throat.

 

[wonderwall]

"Exactly!"

Max called out after him, her eyes staying focused on the glossy polish. She could easily hear his travel to the kitchen and then to the bathroom. A small smile perked the corner of her lips as the sound of light fabric hit the tiled flooring. She waited for the quick squeak of the metal to twist and command out the water before answering his question. Max lifted herself from her lounged position, taking the time alone to examine the mundane room. She quickly appreciated the clean and organized state, humans were filthy..even by demon standards. "Well. Before this turned into..this.." she sighed, stopping to view his bookshelf, "I was going to simply feed of your energy. The energy that flows through your vulnerable, mortal body while you sleep." She picked up one of the books, flipping the pages of brightly colored abstract paintings as a child would.

"Obviously that failed when you tried to blindly punch me," she added shooting him a dirty look as if he could see her. Snapping the book closed she tossed it carelessly onto his now messy bed. "Now I find myself in this particular situation." She still pondered her next course of action. However she proceeded it needed to be dealt with quicky. "No need to get sassy on me." Instead of a voice calling from the other room she now sat on the bathroom sink. Waiting for his startled reaction she smiled, glancing downwards at the disturbed bath water. "Oh no darling, its not just me who needs the help. You see, I really should kill you. Already you placed a giant "demon play thing" sign on your back. If you can see me, you can see them all..and they can see you." Max shrugged as she leaned back against the steamy mirror. "There is a lot worse out there than demons dressed as gothic school girls, love. You'll be praying to hide under my plaid miniskirt."

She watched his expression as she spoke. Feeling a tinge of jealousy each time the beer bottle touched his lips. She had always loved the bitter kick of red wine herself, though no matter the amount consumed she could never feel intoxicated. "I'm going to make you a deal. I'll protect you, keep you off of the market so to speak. In exchange you help me by herding the sheep." She sighed deeply, "Obviously your off limits..though I'm sure I can think of something that is just as good as dreams." she smirked.

 

[MisterKing]

Brian's head popped out of the shower; five seconds later the water turned off. "No. Pardon the pun, such as it is, but hell no."

He stepped out of the shower, not breaking eye contact with Max for a moment. "My life is fine, arguably great. You show up out of nowhere with a half-assed story about demons and dreams, saying that my life isn't and you're the fix for it. I don't care if you believe it; you sound like a fool and I won't buy it." His hands found a towel while his body language challenged her. Articulating his hand was still a struggle, so he kept it to the side and worked on it one-handed.

His other hand began to shoo Max out. Brian couldn't say he'd ever shoo'd a "demon" before, but she looked 95% human so he just copied 95% of how he would shoo a human. "Now leave. Thank you for making my day a little more interesting, and while you don't have to go you aren't allowed to stay." There was only so much force he could convey with his injured hand, so he used his voice to compensate. Alternating between swatting her shoulder and swigging his beer, he escorted the intruder to the door.

Why were the hot ones always crazy? If only she'd drop the act, then they could have some real fun.