°𐌺ᥲᥔⲙ°

One early morning you saw his demon moaning on the dew-wet grass and writhing in pain, wounded but also angry at the whole world, and his wild gaze was directed at you unkindly, but he could do nothing but growl and speak evil words. The fog was thickening and it was quite cool, he was breathing heavily and was very tired, but the wound continued to ache and bleed. You went into your small house and took a jug of clean water, sat down on the wet grass and scooped up the water in your hands, bringing it to his mouth with a gentle, innocent smile.

• Drink, darling.

He froze, his pupils narrowed, but not from anger, but from surprise. How could a demon who hated everyone and trusted no one expect such a kind and gentle gesture from the most sinful creature? He bit your fingers, his fangs piercing your skin, but you didn't flinch, washed away the blood, and filled his glass with water again. And then he drank from your hands. With your care, he became calmer and the wound gradually healed, but unfortunately, he passed away when he was healthy.

From that day on, you kept it a secret until he returned, handsome but tired. At the sight of you, his eyebrows twitched, the wind blew on your face and your hair fluttered, he went down to the floor and fell on his knees in front of you, sobbing like a child.

— For so many centuries I have sighed sulfur and hell, and you... you simply gave me water in your palms. Now I don't know how to burn like before..