Post by Alexandre on Dec 14, 2015 22:45:02 GMT -6
Just a short drabble about Alexandre struggling to let go of the past once again. Though this time, it's not over his wife, but over someone he could've called a friend.
As each day lumbered on, more and more new faces appeared in the little town named Edgepool. Businesses at the clinic was lively, as usual; customers eagerly poured into Alexandre's office, whether seeking advice or cures for ailments. As each day lumbered on, Alexandre would greet every customer with a cleverly spun web of kindness and generosity, giving candy to children and flowers to fair maidens. It was no different.
Today, however, was on of those rare days in which the demon chose not to open his clinic. He had woken up with a headache that could rival the pain from having hell's flames lap at one's skin, and lacked the energy he would normally exert upon greeting customers.
The doctor dressed casually, wearing a simple white button up and black dress pants. Descending the staircase he was oh-so-familiar with, he moved towards the large glass pane that served as a window. He slowly closed the blinds, a sudden furrow upon his brows. Alexandre stood placidly beside the window, gaze lowered towards the neat little row of potted plants that lay beside the glass. A finger tentatively ran over the smooth petals of his precious plants. It was not long before an unwanted memory crossed his mind once more.
Macabre.
Oh, foolish young Macabre. How quickly he had slipped from being fate's favored to the pits of hell. And by something as repulsive as an Archangel, too. When Alexandre first branded the ex-demon as his, he hoped to keep the puppy longer he did. Having something that was his ripped from his hands so prematurely... well, let's just say it brought a rather unsavory taste to his mouth. But what could he do?
Alexandre looked back at the kitchen table, a brown paper bag resting upon it's wooden surface. Steam rose from the cracks of the poorly closed bag. In it was a treat, one Alexandre baked with his own hands. Though what it was going to be used for was unknown.
The doctor paused for just a moment before he went to the back of the clinic, heading towards the little yard where he planted flowers in his spare time. Reaching into several different bushels, Alexandre plucked out a variety of flowers, lips pressed together as he did so. It was not long before he had miniature bouquet of black Rain Lilies, Asters, Mignonettes, and Bellflowers. Alexandre tied them all together with a black bow that could've been stolen off of a maid's outfit before exiting the clinic, brown paper bag in hand, as the door locking behind him.
For how long the Archdemon walked upon a lonesome dirt path, no one knew for sure. But when said demon reached a tombstone in which the name of the very arrow that nearly pierced his heart was etched upon, time was of no importance. Alexandre's crystalline eyes pierced the stone's surface, as if his gaze could somehow bring the deceased back. Alexandre inhaled sharply, turning his head off to the side. "You're so stupid." In an almost fearful fashion, the doctor approached the grave, heart twisting and thrashing wildly in protest.
Huh. Who knew a demon had a heart?
Alexandre knelt down, a gesture rarely shown to anyone, dead or alive. "You fool, Mac. You stupid, childish demon-" A sharp inhale cut off his
flurry of muttered insults, the word 'demon' stinging his tongue. Macabre was no longer a 'demon' now, was he? The poor puppy was condemned to a place even maggots would avoid, wasn't he? "Ex-demon." Alexandre corrected himself as he slowly lay a hand upon the tombstone, swallowing thickly when a wave of uncharacteristic remorse washed over him. Here he was, mourning over the loss of a pet, when it was, in fact, his own hands that removed the light from Macabre's eyes.
The Archdemon felt his tears rise, but he instantly suppressed them. No demon of his ranking would dare shed tears for those of Macabre's rank. No demon.
Alexandre rested his forehead against the gray stone surface, shutting his eyes as he pressed the bouquet against the tombstone, placing the paper bag upon the grassy earth beside the slab of gray. A bittersweet smile blossomed upon his lips, soft words tumbling from his lips, "I brought you flowers. I hope you're allergic to them, because then I get to bother you even in your eternal slumber. Can't escape me that easily, puppy." When his words were met with silence, Alexandre's smile faltered, yet, it did not fall.
"I can just imagine your angry face glaring at me from over there. I wonder if you hate me now? More that you did before, of course. Now that I've parted you from your corrupted little lover." Alexandre's words balanced between remorse and spite. "But did you really hate me?" Alexandre whispered the next few words, recalling the puppy's worry when he first encountered the obnoxious Ezekiel. "It doesn't really matter now, does it?"
The doctor sat down, back against the tombstone as he placed the bouquet beside him. "Anyways. This is the only time you'll hear me talk to you like this." A small pout graced the Archdemon's lips as he spoke, the paper bag now cradled in his arms.
"I made this for you, puppy. I haven't made it before, but I suppose I should say sorry for what I've done." He opened the bag slowly, pulling out a canteen full of soup and two bowls fashioned from golden brown bread. "You never really got the chance to eat the other one, right? This time, no one will interrupt you. And I have time to join, lucky you."
Despite bitter Winter chills nipping at Alexandre's exposed skin, he continued to sit against the tombstone for the rest of the day, babbling on and on about what adventures he and Macabre had. And at the end of the day? It must've started to rain, because no demon of his ranking would dare shed tears for those of Macabre's rank. No demon.
-
As each day lumbered on, more and more new faces appeared in the little town named Edgepool. Businesses at the clinic was lively, as usual; customers eagerly poured into Alexandre's office, whether seeking advice or cures for ailments. As each day lumbered on, Alexandre would greet every customer with a cleverly spun web of kindness and generosity, giving candy to children and flowers to fair maidens. It was no different.
Today, however, was on of those rare days in which the demon chose not to open his clinic. He had woken up with a headache that could rival the pain from having hell's flames lap at one's skin, and lacked the energy he would normally exert upon greeting customers.
The doctor dressed casually, wearing a simple white button up and black dress pants. Descending the staircase he was oh-so-familiar with, he moved towards the large glass pane that served as a window. He slowly closed the blinds, a sudden furrow upon his brows. Alexandre stood placidly beside the window, gaze lowered towards the neat little row of potted plants that lay beside the glass. A finger tentatively ran over the smooth petals of his precious plants. It was not long before an unwanted memory crossed his mind once more.
Macabre.
Oh, foolish young Macabre. How quickly he had slipped from being fate's favored to the pits of hell. And by something as repulsive as an Archangel, too. When Alexandre first branded the ex-demon as his, he hoped to keep the puppy longer he did. Having something that was his ripped from his hands so prematurely... well, let's just say it brought a rather unsavory taste to his mouth. But what could he do?
Alexandre looked back at the kitchen table, a brown paper bag resting upon it's wooden surface. Steam rose from the cracks of the poorly closed bag. In it was a treat, one Alexandre baked with his own hands. Though what it was going to be used for was unknown.
The doctor paused for just a moment before he went to the back of the clinic, heading towards the little yard where he planted flowers in his spare time. Reaching into several different bushels, Alexandre plucked out a variety of flowers, lips pressed together as he did so. It was not long before he had miniature bouquet of black Rain Lilies, Asters, Mignonettes, and Bellflowers. Alexandre tied them all together with a black bow that could've been stolen off of a maid's outfit before exiting the clinic, brown paper bag in hand, as the door locking behind him.
For how long the Archdemon walked upon a lonesome dirt path, no one knew for sure. But when said demon reached a tombstone in which the name of the very arrow that nearly pierced his heart was etched upon, time was of no importance. Alexandre's crystalline eyes pierced the stone's surface, as if his gaze could somehow bring the deceased back. Alexandre inhaled sharply, turning his head off to the side. "You're so stupid." In an almost fearful fashion, the doctor approached the grave, heart twisting and thrashing wildly in protest.
Huh. Who knew a demon had a heart?
Alexandre knelt down, a gesture rarely shown to anyone, dead or alive. "You fool, Mac. You stupid, childish demon-" A sharp inhale cut off his
flurry of muttered insults, the word 'demon' stinging his tongue. Macabre was no longer a 'demon' now, was he? The poor puppy was condemned to a place even maggots would avoid, wasn't he? "Ex-demon." Alexandre corrected himself as he slowly lay a hand upon the tombstone, swallowing thickly when a wave of uncharacteristic remorse washed over him. Here he was, mourning over the loss of a pet, when it was, in fact, his own hands that removed the light from Macabre's eyes.
The Archdemon felt his tears rise, but he instantly suppressed them. No demon of his ranking would dare shed tears for those of Macabre's rank. No demon.
Alexandre rested his forehead against the gray stone surface, shutting his eyes as he pressed the bouquet against the tombstone, placing the paper bag upon the grassy earth beside the slab of gray. A bittersweet smile blossomed upon his lips, soft words tumbling from his lips, "I brought you flowers. I hope you're allergic to them, because then I get to bother you even in your eternal slumber. Can't escape me that easily, puppy." When his words were met with silence, Alexandre's smile faltered, yet, it did not fall.
"I can just imagine your angry face glaring at me from over there. I wonder if you hate me now? More that you did before, of course. Now that I've parted you from your corrupted little lover." Alexandre's words balanced between remorse and spite. "But did you really hate me?" Alexandre whispered the next few words, recalling the puppy's worry when he first encountered the obnoxious Ezekiel. "It doesn't really matter now, does it?"
The doctor sat down, back against the tombstone as he placed the bouquet beside him. "Anyways. This is the only time you'll hear me talk to you like this." A small pout graced the Archdemon's lips as he spoke, the paper bag now cradled in his arms.
"I made this for you, puppy. I haven't made it before, but I suppose I should say sorry for what I've done." He opened the bag slowly, pulling out a canteen full of soup and two bowls fashioned from golden brown bread. "You never really got the chance to eat the other one, right? This time, no one will interrupt you. And I have time to join, lucky you."
Despite bitter Winter chills nipping at Alexandre's exposed skin, he continued to sit against the tombstone for the rest of the day, babbling on and on about what adventures he and Macabre had. And at the end of the day? It must've started to rain, because no demon of his ranking would dare shed tears for those of Macabre's rank. No demon.