Page 11 of Sweet Surrender
“I won’t change my mind,” Saint said quickly.
Knight simply raised an eyebrow. Saint could almost read his expression, which seemed to be saying,afterthatkiss?
He looked away, cheeks flushing. He walked to his bed, his limbs suddenly feeling a million times heavier as he reached for his phone. The sight of the time nearly made him want to sob. Three hours until he had to be up.
Well. He better grab what sleep he could. At least it was Friday. He could sleep like the dead after work.
He turned to look at the demon, who was still standing by the base of his bed. He wore robes that seemed to be made from pure shadow, and it might’ve been Saint’s exhaustion talking, but the shadows seemed to be moving. His dark purple hair, done in thick locs that went all the way down to his waist, had golden jewels glittering in each strand, making him look like some kind of demon prince.
Saint violently shoved the fantasies that phrase inspired down before they could sprout.
“I’m sorry,” he said, suddenly feeling awkward. “I—uh, make yourself at home? I don’t know what you eat, and I don’t have much, but—”
“Don’t worry about it,” Knight said. “You look tired, and it seems late. You should get some rest.”
Saint gladly slid underneath his sheets. His heartbeat stuttered when Knight came over to the bed as well. He didn’t know whether he felt relieved or disappointed when all thedemon did was sit on the outer edge, on top of the sheets, his legs stretched out in front of him, wings tucked tightly to his back.
Saint twisted away to face the wall, afraid that if he looked at Knight right now, he truly would change his mind about their dreams staying dreams.
The silence between them shouldn’t have felt so comfortable already. So familiar.
“You know,” Knight said, his voice a low whisper, “you’ve given me so much in your dreams, but you’ve never given me your name.”
“Really?” Saint breathed, genuinely surprised, but he didn’t turn around.
“Really.” Knight sounded amused.
“I-It’s Saint.”
“Saint,” he repeated softly.
Saint clenched his eyes shut. He used to hate his name, back when he’d lived under his parents’ roof, and they’d expected him to be a perfect embodiment of the word. When he’d turned out to be just as human and ordinary as they were, it had turned into a verbal punishment. Those few years before he’d left, every mention of his name had felt like the crack of a whip.
Saint, dripping with anger and disdain.
Saint, thick with disappointment and condescension.
Saint, heavy with bitter betrayal and sorrow.
After he’d run away, he’d learned to tolerate it, to even laugh at the few jokes people made when he first introduced himself.
“Saint,” Knight repeated. “I think it fits.”
No, it fucking doesn’t. There was no way he truly believed that after all the shit Saint had done with him in his dreams.
But even as he thought it, he couldn’t quite deny that coming from Knight’s mouth, the sound of his name made him feel like he was something to be worshipped.
“What about you? What’s your name?” Just because he’d been calling him Knight in his dreams and his head didn’t mean that was his actual name.
It felt so horribly cliche, too, because he’d been in a truly terrible place when Knight had first appeared to him—chasing him, pinning him down, and making him forget the world outside existed for those brief, blissful moments—that Saint had jokingly referred to him as his knight in shining armour. Then, because Saint had secretly thought it’d be romantic, and he wasn’t going to ask the demon his name, obviously—that would have made it all too real—he’d decided to just call him Knight.
He could tell the demon was smiling when he said, “In English, the closest approximation of what the other demons call me is “Cunning”. But I very much prefer Knight.”
Saint abruptly grew hot all over, the heat pooling warmly in his lower belly. He wanted to turn around, suddenly. He wanted Knight in his arms. Just to hold him for a bit until he fell asleep, pretending all the things he wanted could be real.
“Go to sleep, little rabbit,” Knight said softly.
Saint’s heartbeat tripped.Don’t call me that, he wanted to say, but couldn’t quite get the words past his lips.
