Page 25 of Stolen By the Gargoyle
I was home.
And Nazzar meant to leave.
I turned to find him slowly backing away from me, making his way towards the window like he would jump out of it as quickly and silently as possible. Disappear from my life for good, because that’s what he thought I wanted.
“Wait!”
He froze when I stared at him, waiting for me to speak. He was sobigin my apartment. The tips of his horns scraped the ceiling, and he had to hunch a fraction so they wouldn’t tear through it. My tongue grew heavy, and suddenly I found I didn’t want him to leave.
Was it selfish of me? Was I being an awful person, going back and forth with him like this?
Maybe it was the anxiety of the situation, though I know for a fact that being in that dinky cave didn’t help at all, either. But now that I was home, surrounded by my own things, I didn’tactually want to be without his company. I liked him, despite it all. Getting to know him the night before had eased the dreadful little voice inside my head, but we’d barely even scratched the surface of things. I wanted to know more. Because despite the situation, he was someone I could see myself getting to know. Someone who maybe could have been the one for me. Neither of us would know it, unless we gave it a try. And letting him leave without me expressing the more complicated layers of my own messy feelings felt like a disservice to the both of us.
“Will you stay?” I asked, feeling shy. “I… I want to shower and get my hair sorted.” I waved at the tangled curls. “And then I want to go get breakfast. Would you go with me?”
His tense posturing relaxed, his shoulders lowering from the tight position they’d been stuck in. Even his grave features smoothed over, and his lips twitched into something that resembled a smile.
“I would be honored to break my fast with you.”
“Right. Do you want to shower?” I felt my face heat up after I asked the question. Showering together was an intimacy, and not one I was probably ready to share with him yet.
Dolores, the gargoyle ate you out and you’re worried about showering being too intimate? Get a fucking grip.
“Not with me, I mean,” I rushed to explain. “I meant if you want to take a shower, you know, after me. But then again, you might not fit in there. My house is small and you’re…” I lifted my hands, gesturing at his entire form. “You know, woosh!!!” My arms flapped at my sides, mimicking his wings. “Not that I don’t want you to shower with me. I just have to use the bathroom first, I’ve been holding it in since you took me, and I need privacy for that so I don’t want you in the room while I’m…”
Oh my god.
Stop. Fucking. Talking.
I slapped my hands against my cheeks as if that could shut me up.
“Feel free to interrupt me at any time, big guy, please. I beg of you, put me out of my misery.”
Nazzar’s wings twitched, his body snapping into that tense pose he’d assumed when he’d fought those demon creatures.
“I could never!” he growled. “You are my–” He broke off with a howl of frustration. “I cannot put you out of misery. Do not ask this of me, please.”
I lowered my hands and approached him slowly. “Nazzar, it’s just an expression. I don’t mean it literally. I don’t want you to actually take me out.”
His body took a long moment to relax. He searched my face, black eyes probing. “An expression?”
“Yes. I just meant I was embarrassing myself and wanted you to interrupt me,” I clarified. “Not kill me.”
He sighed deeply, his chest warming, glowing purple. “Forgive me, Dolores. In the Underworld, I have tortured souls alongside my Lord of Pain, Kane, and many souls begged to be put out of their misery with death. My lord never heeded their pleas, but I know I could not do such a thing to you.”
“Jesus Christ,” I breathed.
“No, I am Nazzar.”
I closed my eyes and looked up at my ceiling. The cultural and species difference was definitely going to lead to several cases of miscommunication.
I opened my eyes and found him staring with understanding dawning on his expression.
“Another expression?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I understand.”
