Cold sweat began to drip down from his forehead to his chin, hitting the floors.
His fingers, held out before him, began to tremble and his heart started to pound, hard, fast in his chest. His throat tightened as he stared down towards that mask, a red and black visage with a vicious snarling grin staring right back at him.
He released a stuttering chuckle, his eyes closing tightly before he opened them again.
It was still there!
"No...no this...this is not..." He knelt down, his fingers gripping it, recalling that roar running up his spine. Those long scratches began to scream along his nerves, searing his flesh. He stood up, holding that unforgettable, monstrous mask in his trembling hands.
Wrath...
Why was that here!?
He could feel the answer pressing down onto his shoulders, the pressure increased the more he tried to deny it.
No, it could not be here. It couldn't...that monster could not be...
"...Tristan..."
His eyes widened, hearing that gentle sigh of a single name. He dropped the demonic visage onto the ground, taking deep shuddering breaths as he turned to face the beloved owner of that voice, "S-sweetie..."
She was wearing that same red robe she greeted him in, her back leaning against the large window, her arms crossed. He flinched, another bead of icy sweat sliding down from his cheek as he took in the black and red metallic forms of that left arm. The pressure got heavier, clawing onto his shoulders as he stared at her silently, his throat tight, remembering her arm gripping his neck-
No!
No, that wasn't her, it could not be her!
She slowly lifted her head, her eyes moving over towards him, that small smile on her face, a smile just for him, "You should sit down."
He swallowed heavily, his eyes darting towards the door.
A low, unforgettable growl caused his eyes to return to her. Her lips twitching as she hissed, "Sit. Down."
He took slow and measured steps towards the couch, his breaths coming out in hurried pants, his eyes never leaving her. No matter how many times he tried to tell himself differently, he knew this pressure bearing down on him. He recognized the burning heat in the air, and most of all, he knew those eyes, remembering her intense stare.
He was meat.
He slowly lowered himself onto the couch, his brow furrowed tightly as he faced the ground, eyes closing tightly as he blinked back tears. His body tensed as he gripped the leather cushion below him before he released a soft laugh, "That's just...a joke, right? Just s-some prank, right?"
Her face softened, that small smile returning, "You're sweating sweetheart, take slow breaths. Calm down."
He gritted his teeth, flinching as she ignored his question, "Please answer me."
"You're panicking, babe. Relax and calm down-"
"ANSWER ME IRA!"
Her face darkened, and suddenly she was away from the window, inches away from his face, her metal hand gripping his jaw, hard and tight. Her form blocked out the sun as her eyes burned into his, drilling into his gaze as she snarled out, "Shut up."
He could feel capillaries bursting under the skin of his jaw, her grip forcing his face still, no matter how hard he tried to move back. She clenched her teeth before letting go of him, smiling again, though it was no longer than a small smile he adored.
It was a predatory smirk.
She tilted her head, and he could feel her eyes studying him like prey, "I think you can put two and two together. You should be perfectly aware of who I am."
His hands touched his bruising jaw, fear clenching his heart as he shuddered, trying desperately to calm himself, "... You're being forced to do this, right? "He reached out towards her human hand, his long fingers shaking slightly, "The Dante family is forcing you to act like this. You're not that monster. You're my Ira..."
Her lips parted as his fingers gripped her hand gently, stroking along her dark bronze skin, a little moan escaping those voluptuous lips, "Oh Tristan...I love you." Her metal hand lifted to stroke along his cheek, causing him to flinch, "But you are so incredibly stupid."
He grimaced as she jerked her hand away from his, trying to grip it only to be pushed back onto the couch by that monstrous prosthetic, "Be honest with me! I want to help you! Help you with your pain, with this, like just I said I last night. I meant every word, so please, let me protect you!"
She snorted softly before she laughed lowly, tilting her head to the side and releasing loud pop that resounded off the walls of the penthouse. "Wow, still trying to be the dashing hero when you are deep in denial." She smirked, resting her chin on her metal hand, "I mean...what kind of protection does the head of the Dante family need?"
His heart began to sink into the most bottomless pit of his stomach, "...What?"
Her grin spread wide, her teeth bared, "I'm Ira Dante." She motioned behind over, towards the stunning view, "I own this city."
"You're ...you're lying..."
"Please. You're starting to irritate me." She began to circle the couch, pacing around him, hunting him, "The expensive dates, this penthouse, the musical, the car? What about the fact that you are still alive after showing me your face?" Her grin vanished, her face grim, "The fact you are still in one piece after you cut me. That hurt."
His eyes darted down to her side, remembering when his blade had finally sliced into Wrath; when he finally wounded that beast, "You don't have a mark on you..." He felt an odd sense of relief; that's right, Wrath was bleeding that night; there should still be a cut, stitches, something on that monstrous being. There is a chance that-
"It still hurt me, ArchAngel."
Her voice carried a low, dark snarl as she hissed out his moniker. His eyes lowered to the ground as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
"I see you can't deny it." She stopped in her steps, bending low to gaze at him, "You turned out to be much better prey-"Her voice trailed off, her hand moving to stroke his bruised jaw, "...much more than I expected."
"...How can you not have a mark on you?" He jerked his head away, glaring defiantly back at her as betrayal fed into the storm in his eyes, "I made you bleed."
"I have a gift. A gift I'm willing to share." Her smile, that small smile reserved only for him, returned, "My offer still stands, Tristan. I'm willing to give you everything, and in return...all I want is you..."
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