“Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“And no matter what it is, you’ll answer right?”
“How did you become a demon?”
Gilbert froze, his crimson eyes wide as he processed your question. “Huh?” He blinked in confusion. “How I became a demon?” You nodded enthusiastically, inching closer to him. He shifted back a bit, one of his arms slung across the back of the plush sofa you two were currently sitting on. Soft sunlight sneaked in past the curtains of the library, the comfortable silence roaming past the old bookshelves which were stuffed to the brink with dusty tomes in ancient languages.
“Vhy vould you vant to knov zhat?” He muttered, his gaze aimed at the floor, to the side but in any case not at you. “I’m just curious about this whole devil-demon thing. I mean you said before that most people don’t....change into them. And yet, you did. So I want to know why.” You explained, reaching forward to grasp his chin and force him to look at you.
He still didn’t look at you though, so you pressed your forehead against his. That made him look, in fact that made his face turn so red, the colour matched his eyes. “I won’t judge you or anything. I really am just curious.” You whispered, smiling as he gulped and pulled away from you.
After a short sigh and the closing of his eyes, he leant his head back so he stare at the ceiling. “It happened a long time ago.” He started, his voice quiet as he spoke. You leant in closer to him, watching as he struggled to find the right words. “I suppose vhat really made me vhat I am now, is because-....”
He bit his lip, his brows pulling up to meet each other. “I killed someone.” He muttered and your eyes widened. “See? You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” He asked sadly, glancing over at your shocked expression. You shook your head. “I-It just caught me off guard that’s all.” You replied, staring down at your hands. You’d promised him you wouldn’t judge him! And here you were.... you thought sadly, wringing your hands in the soft fabric of the dress Gilbert had given you that morning.
“Since my becoming a demon, I’ve killed more people of course.... but zhat first time vas terrible.” He whispered, his expression that of someone in pain. “W-why did you kill him?” You questioned, shooting him a fearful glance. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen! You knew he killed people, heck, he’d even done it when he’d saved you from that hell-hole, before he took you down here, which was the literal hell-hole, once you thought about it.
“Revenge, I guess. He killed zhe voman I loved.” You froze and stared at him. Smiling weakly and sadly, he cupped your cheek and stroked his thumb over it. “Do you regret doing it?” Your voice was small and scared, even you could tell that. After thinking for a moment, he grinned crookedly. “No. He got vhat he deserved. And besides, had I not kill him zhen I vouldn’t have become a demon. Zhat vay, I vouldn’t have been able to meet you.” His grin turned into a soft smile and he gazed at you with unconcealed adoration.
“Do you miss her?” You asked again, not knowing how your questions kept on coming. “Of course. But now I know she’s in a better place.” He murmured and laughed slightly. “Knowing her, she’ll have found someone up zhere to settle down vith. She’s probably forgotten all about me!”
“But you-you hurt yourself by becoming like this for her! And you believe that she would just be able to forget what you did for her? That’s not fair!” You told him, jumping when he pulled you onto his chest. “Sometimes it’s better to get hurt for people. Actually I prefer to be zhe one to get hurt, I’d rather do zhat zhan vatch vhen someone dear to me gets hurt..... did zhat make any sense?” He pondered, a quizzical look on his face.
“I understand.” You answered, closing your eyes as you felt him play with your fingers. His chest was hard and cold, though there seemed to be some sort of energy radiating from him. No heart pounded under your ear.
“So vhat’s vizh zhe questions eh?” You pouted for a moment as you thought. “Nothing really. Actually I asked Francis and Antonio the same when they came over last time.” Gilbert’s gaze darkened at the mention of his two friends’ names. The three of you got on together a bit too well for his liking, but as long as you enjoyed their company and (more importantly) they didn’t do anything to you, he would tolerate them.
“And? Zheir answers?” You rubbed your neck sheepishly and raised your eyebrow in remembrance to how that had went. Francis had appeared behind you and breathed on your neck whilst whispering; “Would you like to see what I did to become like zhis?”
Antonio had grinned like the airhead he could be and shrugged, saying that it had been so long ago. “And what’s in the past, is in the past eh?” He’d chuckled with a wide smile.
“Well they didn’t really answer.” You told him, shrieking when he lifted you on top of his lap so that you were facing him. “Is zhat so....” he muttered, inspecting your neck for any marks they could have left on you.
“What’re you-ah!” You squealed in surprise when he bit your neck rather harshly. “What are you doing?!” You cried, pushing him back by his shoulders. “That hurt!”
“Couldn’t resist.” He muttered under his breath, before kissing the spot with the prominent bitemark. “Just marking vhat’s mine.” He told you with an air of nonchalance, nuzzling and kissing your neck gently, as if to make up for biting you like that.
Your face heated up; he’d kissed your cheek and forehead as you’d gone to sleep but this was completely different! His arms were wrapped tightly around you so that you couldn’t squirm too much, but if you wanted to you could push him off; he wasn’t using his full strength for that very purpose.
“You’ve already marked me.” You complained, pointing to the red pentagram he’d inscribed your shoulder blade with. “Zhat’s not zhe same.” He retorted, pausing to caress your cheek and look into your eyes.
“Say, even zhough I’ve marked you as mine, I’ve only marked your body. I can only mark zhat, but I vant to be able to mark your heart as mine as vell.” He confessed, his cheeks stained red. “You’re zhe only vone who can allow me to do zhat zhough, so zhat’s vhy I’m asking you like zhis. Can I have your heart? For you know, you already have, stone-cold and icy zhough it may be, it pounds for you. I can feel it.” He whispered, resting his head on your shoulder and placing your hand on the spot where his heart should be.
It was strange, you could feel a sort of buzzing sensation go through him and it felt as though the feeling collected on the spot which lay under your palm. “So? Can I have your heart?” He gazed at you in expectation of your answer.
You parted your lips, your reply making him grin wider than you’d ever seen before.