Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Living with a demon- let alone dating one- is a strange endeavor.

From the brief research he's done, there is no documented incidents of a human dating a demon, which meant he was on his own. Not that he minded- he quite liked getting to know Shadow Milk naturally, though there are a few issues he's come to notice.

For instance, there is a learning curve in knowing how to approach certain topics- morality being one of them. Perhaps it was a bit foolish to think a demon would have any concept of morality; Shadow Milk isn't held to those standards since he's not human, and therefore has no reference for it.

After all, no matter how docile he becomes, Shadow Milk will always be a demon- something Pure Vanilla learned during one late night stroll in the park.

At the time, Shadow Milk had only lived with him for a few weeks- not counting the time he's spent in the shop, that is. It had begun to sleep in bed with him, spooning him in his demon form and making him wake up with feathers in his mouth. The beast would sleep till it was time to leave, and then spend the rest of the day dozing in the store.

It was a surprising… calm.

They had visited the library once- he had to hide Shadow Milk in his coat since he refused to transform that day- and went through the Supernatural section to see what he could find regarding his partner. White Lily had mentioned a long time ago that the library here had a surprisingly well-informed catalogue on demons, and with that in mind, he began his search.

What he found was intriguing, to say the least. When Pure Vanilla first searched for Shadow Milk's name, there were no records of it to be found. He glanced at the bird across from him, resting on top of his coat, and showed him the pages.

"Do you have another name, dear?" He whispered. There were people around, and while they haven't noticed the bird yet, he'll certainly draw attention for talking to it.

Shadow Milk opened one eye slowly to scan the page, and then hopped towards the book. Using his beak, he turned the pages back to the index, and pecked at one particular chapter. Squinting at the words, Pure Vanilla read Virtuous Calamities.

"Are you a part of a group?" He mumbled under his breath as he flipped to the right page.

The chapter with the title in question was thin- the thinnest one in the book, actually. But it had a diagram of five demons, and he recognizes one feathery little bird in the center.

Pure Vanilla brushed his thumb over the raised ink, taking in the detailed drawing of his lover. The artist in question captured his monstrosity beautifully; the eyes, the feathers, the stare. All of it to warn the most unfortunate of what fate awaits them should they meet this demon.

When he glanced over towards Shadow Milk, he found the bird puffed up in pride. With a fond chuckle, Pure Vanilla set the book down with a shake of his head.

"I don't know, Bluebird," He said. "I think the got your beak wrong."

Oh, how mad he got. Shadow Milk squawked in indignation, and let out a shrill cry of despair that echoed through the rows of books. Unfortunately, the noise drew the attention of the front desk worker, and they were asked to leave after that.

From that small trip, Pure Vanilla learned that Shadow Milk was a demon of trickery. Both inciting and encouraging it, he draws power from the lies of man. The more they lie, the more real of a concept he becomes- which is how most demons were created. They're manifestations of concepts, and the most powerful would be virtues humanity longed to abide by but failed to.

It makes sense, then, for Shadow Milk to occasionally pester a customer, or mix around his clothes in his closet or shrink them in the wash. Its annoying in the worst cases, and endearing in the best.

What he hadn't expected- and what he should have- was the viciousness of his trickery.

They had been out late, enjoying a nice stroll in the park after spending much of the day in bed and soaking in each other's company. It was around the third time Shadow Milk's shifted into a human form, and no matter how much Pure Vanilla tried, he refused to change the bodysuit he transformed into.

If he did, then those clothes would transfer to his demon and bird form, something he explained through a series of aggressive, strained chirps. As a concession, Shadow Milk promised to keep his coat on- which Pure Vanilla greatly appreciated.

And so there they were, wandering through the park without a destination in mind. Shadow Milk had his arms wrapped around Pure Vanilla's, leaning heavily against him and refusing to part for even a moment. Whenever someone came too close, Shadow Milk would stare them down till they moved, and Pure Vanilla would look at them apologetically.

They were still working on the socialization part, but Shadow Milk's hatred for humanity seems to not be going away anytime soon. Still, he hasn't done anything abhorrent as of yet, nothing that screams 'demon' anyway.

As they walked past a small pond, they could hear a group of voices ahead of them. It was obvious from looks alone they were not sober; they're voices slurred, and bottles still containing bits of liquor at the bottom dangled loosely from their fingertips. When they noticed the couple, one of them seemed to light up.

Pure Vanilla gently tried to steer them both away, putting a bit of distance between them and the group, but the man didn't seem to agree. He leaned in close to them as they passed, and then suddenly reached out to grab a hold of Shadow Milk's shoulder. Just as Pure Vanilla was about to tell him off, lightly pulling the demon closer to him, the man's arm was cut to ribbons.

The man screamed in pain, tripping over himself as he tried to back away. The temperature suddenly dropped, and everything around them froze. The man stared at his bloodied arm, his body locking up from the cold, and took a shaky glance above him. Everything had frozen- the wind, the insects, the people.

Everything, except the man, and the one in the coat.

Slowly, Shadow Milk detached himself from Pure Vanilla's arm, letting out an annoyed huff at having to leave his side. Honestly, it would have thought that by now humanity would have learned some decorum- but he can be wrong from time to time. Though, it seemed that this time he can get a bit of fun out of this.

He shrugged off his coat and draped Pure Vanilla's shoulder with it, and pecked him on the cheek before turning to the shivering man. It has been some time, he supposed, since he's done his job. Perhaps this new chapter of his life had softened him too much- he still had a reputation to maintain.

Stretching his arms, Shadow Milk approached the man with a bored look. He hadn't even done anything yet, for Witches' sake, and the man was already shaking. Around his collarbone, feathers began to bloom above his body suit, as well as around his pointy ears and under his eyes. His arms, once exposed to the cool night's chill, were now covered in feathers, his talons piercing through the dull skin of his fingers.

A partial transformation will be enough for tonight.

He crouched over the man, tilting his head at an unnatural angle and stared him down. The blues of his eyes were gone- pupils fully blown out, and hair swaying in an invisible breeze and preventing the man from seeing anything else but those eyes. Raising one clawed hand, Shadow Milk gently pressed his fingertips to the man's head in faux affection, the edges of his mouth curling in delight at the man's whimper.

Shadow Milk leaned in close, his eyes never once leaving the man's face, and spoke.

"'Kettle Corn?' Is that what they call you?" He asked, but his voice wasn't right. No, what came out od the demon's mouth was the man's own voice- the demon was mimicking him.

The man- Kettle Corn- struggled to say anything. The weight of Shadow Milk's body a top his was crushing, bruising the bone underneath and making it difficult to reply. Shadow Milk cooed, his feathers fluttering as he mockingly brushed his thumb against his cheek.

"Its alright," He hummed, resting more of his weight onto the man's hips and making him sob. "Its only the two of us now."

Shadow Milk's hand drifted down to hold the man's throat, forcing Kettle Corn's head back at an uncomfortable angle. Kettle Corn shakily raised his uninjured hand, weakly clawing at the demon's arm and making Shadow Milk laugh at his pathetic attempts to escape.

"Is this not what you wanted?" The demon jeered, digging his talons into the man's neck. "Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

Kettle Corn let out a wheeze, tears building up in his eyes as he tried to speak. "I-I'll…" He began, teeth chattering as he spoke. "I-I'm s-sorry…"

Shadow Milk scoffed, tightening his hold on the man's neck. "Do not apologize to me; I will not be your salvation," He said, a slight growl in his voice. "You attempt to touch me with your filth, and delude yourself into believing there would be no consequences. Would it be untrue to say you've attempted such a thing in the past, hmm?"

Kettle Corn stuttered, and Shadow Milk grabbed him by the back of his hair and yanked. "Do not lie to be, cretin! I have existed long before the first angels fell, and have long since passed judgment on the human race. Speak to me now, truthfully, and perhaps your transgression will be forgiven."

Tears streamed down Kettle Corn's cheeks, his voice turning into a whisper. "I-I have. Pl-please, please, forgive me. I-I swear! I swear I'll n-never do it again!"

The demon's eyes narrowed, and then he laughed. It bellowed out as multiple, shrill voices- every soul unfortunate enough to cross it in the past. Some screamed to be released, others indulging in the man's misery. If you listened close enough, you could hear Kettle Corn's screams among them.

"Well, that wasn't so hard, was it?" The demon cooed, patting Kettle Corn's cheek. "But… what to do with you?"

Shadow Milk's face began to morph- bones cracking and rearranging, his hair turning into a light, wavy brown before he appeared as an older woman. "Shall I take your mother?" It giggled, mimicking her voice. The demon morphed again- this time into a young boy. "Or perhaps your brother?"

"N-no!" Kettle Corn cried out, thrashing in the demon's hold.

"No?" Shadow Milk repeated, features morphing back into his own. "Shall I take you, then?"

Kettle Corn's eyes widen, and Shadow Milk knew he had him. Talons dug into the man's cheek, and he was held in place by Shadow Milk's other hand. Kettle Corn screamed as Shadow Milk wrote runes into his cheek, grinning as it seared into his flesh- a permanent reminder of this moment.

"Listen closely, little lamb," He crooned, the eyes in his hair glowing, his feathers dripping ink. "Misfortune shall follow you where every you may go. In the loss of life, and in the destruction of your future. No matter what, however, you shall not die by your hands or another. Instead, you will live an unfulfilled life, and once you expire, I shall eat your rot and harbor your soul for all of eternity."

The runes on his cheek glowed, and from the pain alone Kettle Corn fainted. Shadow Milk let his head go, allowing it to slam into the paved ground, and casually stood up. He brushed the feathers down, allowing them to disappear and appear human once more. He almost skipped back to Pure Vanilla- pulling his coat on and wrapping his arms around his.

Once he was perfectly in place, time began to flow once more.

The group from before screamed at the state of their friend, rushing to him and attempting to rouse him from his slumber. Pure Vanilla, who was about to tell off the man, blinked in confusion. The man was right in front of them- how was he on the ground? Glancing down at Shadow Milk, he found the demon happily nuzzling his shoulder, almost purring in satisfaction.

Looking at the man once more, he spotted the rune carved into his cheek. Demonic runes- ones he could not read, but recognized from White Lily's journals. He pulled his arm out of Shadow Milk's hold and instead wrapped it tight around his waist, hurrying them along before the group's attention drifted back to them.

Once they were farther down the path, Pure Vanilla stopped them both. Shadow Milk made a confused little warble before Pure Vanilla cupped his cheeks. Right underneath his eyes were the tips of a feather- stubbornly poking out even with Shadow Milk's meticulous care. Pure Vanilla sighed tiredly, his thumb brushing the soft feathers and encouraging them to fall out.

Shadow Milk was still a demon, he reminded himself. No matter that he did, that simple fact will always remain true.

"Did you do something to him?" Pure Vanilla questioned, frowning as he did so.

Shadow Milk tilted his head, batting his lashes in an attempt to distract him. In any other circumstance, maybe it would have worked- but this was not the time for it.

"Shadow Milk," He stressed, squeezing the demon's cheeks. "Be honest with me; did you do something to him?"

The demon huffed, trying to pull its head away from his grasp. When that didn't work, he let out an annoyed, stubborn chirp. Pure Vanilla's eyes narrowed.

"That's not what I asked."

"Chirp."

"Did you write that rune on him?"

"Chirp."

"That is not a tattoo, Shadow Milk."

"Chirp!"

"Shadow Milk!" He shouted in frustration, feeling the demon tense in his hold. "Stop lying to me!"

The demon was stunned silent for a moment, his mouth slightly agape at being yelled out. He's never been yelled out- not by mortals, at least. If it had been anyone else, their existence would have been eradicated in an instant! But it was Pure Vanilla- his sweet Pure Vanilla, and how weak he's become around him.

After a minute of silence, Shadow Milk out a guilty chirp, and Pure Vanilla sighed.

"You can't just curse someone, dear," He said, bitting his lip. "He was a jerk, yes- but we could have solved this without a death sentence."

Shadow Milk pouted in response, and Pure Vanilla let out a tired chuckle. "I know you're a demon- you remind me of that every day… but I'd just wish you wouldn't resort to violence so quickly. I know its in your nature, but maybe next time we can figure it out together, okay?"

The demon looked to the side, annoyance clearly shining through its eyes, before nodding its head. Pure Vanilla smiled, and pressed an apologetic kiss to his forehead. "Good. I'm sorry for yelling out you- I didn't mean to lose my temper."

Shadow Milk let out a garbled grumble before wrapping his arms around Pure Vanilla's waist. Seeing that he won't be able to remove him, Pure Vanilla drapes his arm around his waist and decides to take them home. They've had enough excitement for tonight.

-

Recently, it came to Pure Vanilla attention that the stores and restaurants next to him were having a rat problem. It was happening to everyone- except him.

In fact, every since Shadow Milk took up residency in the flower shop there hasn't been any pests for him to take care of. No rats to speak of, or any flies, ants, moths for him to deal with. It was as if Shadow Milk was a natural deterrent for any pests wishing to take up sanctuary in his shop.

It was nice, really. Pure Vanilla wasn't a fan of catching rats with his limited sight- especially the more harsh methods of trapping him. He was chatting with one of the diner owners- a woman named Black Raisin- about the rat problem, and mentioned that he didn't have any.

"That's strange," She said, taking a sip of her coffee. They were sitting at a booth in her diner, sharing a lunch-break after becoming friends. Shadow Milk had stayed in the store, refusing to join them and nipping his fingers when he tried to pick him up. "I would have thought a flower store to be a perfect place for them to hide."

"I assumed so, too," Pure Vanilla replied, fiddling with the string of his teabag. "My store was run-down when I had bought it. I thought I'd miss a hole or two somewhere, so I was surprised when I hadn't found any."

"You're lucky, then," She sighed, massaging the ache in the back of her neck. "These rats are a problem. With the winter coming in, more of them are seeking shelter inside buildings. How can I ran this place when I'm busy dealing with pests?"

"Have you tried calling someone?" He suggested kindly.

"Can't," She huffed, glancing over to the table across the room from them. There, a group of children sat, scribbling in their notebooks and chatting happily among themselves. "I'd have to close down the diner for a few days, and I can't afford that right now."

Pure Vanilla looked to where she glanced, a warm smiling blooming onto his face. "They're sweet kids, Raisin."

Black Raisin shook her head, hiding her smile behind her mug. "Don't I know that?"

When Pure Vanilla returned from break, he found Shadow Milk on the lounge table staring down at a customer. He seemed agitated- the puffy feathers, the light stomping of his talons on the table. As Pure Vanilla approached, the customer- a young girl- squealed.

"Hi Mr. Vanilla!" The girl cheered, and while Pure Vanilla smiled, he's certain that they've never met.

"Hello there. Is my friend here bothering you?"

The young girl, with pigtails tied with ribbons and a mischievous look on her face, simply giggled. "Nope! Me and sir were having a lot of fun until you came in!" She replied, a bit of venom in her otherwise cheery demeanor.

Pure Vanilla's smile strained, and he carefully picked his blue bird up. "Well, is there anything else I can help you with?"

The young girl pouted, hopping off her seat with a loud huff. "Nope! I only came to visit!" She proclaimed, and right before she left she yelled over her shoulder, "Sapphy misses you too, sir! Come visit us soon!"

With that, the young girl skipped down the street and left Pure Vanilla bewildered by the interaction. He glanced down at his bird, flashing him a confused look. "A friend of yours, I suppose?"

Shadow Milk screeched at him before flying back to his pillow, letting out little trills of annoyance and looking away from him. Pure Vanilla giggled into his hand and returned to his spot behind the desk. It was a slow day for them, meaning Pure Vanilla could talk to his dear bird as freely as he wished.

"Was I wrong? Perhaps a minion, then, if her calling you 'sir' was anything to go by," He chuckled, scratching the top of the bird's head who still refused to look at him.

Pure Vanilla took a moment to look around the room, looking for any signs of pests. Just as it had been for months, there was nothing to be found.

"Are you repelling them somehow?" He asked it, leaning down onto the counter-top to be at eye level with the bird.

Shadow Milk let out a low chirp, still refusing to face him. Pure Vanilla hummed, then, and adjusted a few blankets around his nest. "Could you do me a favor, then?"

The bird looked at him with narrowed eyes, as if to say 'Depends.' Pure Vanilla scratched under Shadow Milk's beak, smiling at the way his feathers fluttered in response. "Would you handle the rat problem for Black Raisin's diner? It would mean a lot to me if you helped her."

Shadow Milk froze at the request, his eyes snapping wide open. The little bird glared at him, snapping its beak in annoyance.

"Please, Shadow Milk? We can do something fun later, I promise," Pure Vanilla said, pressing his palms together in front of his chest.

He gave Shadow Milk the sweetest look he could muster, and could see the bird struggling to remain unaffected. Then, the bird let out a low thrill, and conceded. It hopped off his desk and quickly turned into his human form, glaring at him with displeasure. Pure Vanilla giggled and kissed Shadow Milk's cheek.

"Thank you dear. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," He said, and watched as Shadow Milk left through the back door.

In retrospect, maybe he should have been more specific on how to get rid of the rats. It was an error on his part, really, as he should have said 'take care of them ethically, please' and not whatever the demon actually did.

A day later, sharing another lunch-break with Black Raisin, she told him that the rats were gone.

"Not just the rats," She explained. "Everything. I haven't seen even a fly come in whenever I leave the backdoor open to pull in deliver orders. Its like they disappeared."

"I'm happy for you my friend," Pure Vanilla hummed, thinking of ways to reward Shadow Milk for his troubles.

At least, he would have, if not for what he found in the back rooms of his shop.

You see, when Pure Vanilla returned from his break, he heard the sound of a tiny marching band playing. Trumpets, cymbals, even drums played in an orderly fashion, and came from one of the backrooms of the store. He knew it wasn't from the radio- he left it off before he left, and Shadow Milk would have thrown a fit if anyone tried going behind the counter. If that had happened, he wouldn't be in the backroom.

The door to the room creaked open, and there, on the center table, was a little band playing.

A little rat band playing, with a mouse with ribbons around its ears serving as the conductor and a fox playing with the severed head of a rat. They danced, and they played their tunes, all the while letting out little shrieks of fear whenever the fox threatened to nip one. At the end of the table, Shadow Milk watched with boredom.

Pure Vanilla slammed the door wide open, causing the mouse and fox to jump in surprise and the little band to stop playing. Shadow Milk tilted his head, his brow raised and curious.

"Shadow Milk," Pure Vanilla began, unsure if he's feeling delirious or not from what he's witnessing. "When I said to handle the rat problem, I did not mean torture them!"

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes, extending his hand out to the mouse and fox. The fox happily trotted across the table and into his lap, while the mouse climbed up his arm and came to lay on his head, happily squeaking and flicking its tail. The demon shrugged, and with a wave of his hand, the band continued to play.

Pure Vanilla covered his face with his hands, letting out a startled laugh as he pushed his hair out of face. "Out of all ways you could have handled them, this was you best solution?!"

"Chirp."

"Yes I said non-violence, but torturing rats still counts!"

"Chirp."

"I didn't realize I had to say, 'Hey, don't turn the rats bothering my friend's establish into a little band that you torture for fun!' Who ever needs to be that specific, Shadow Milk?"

Shadow Milk stuck out his tongue and tapped the desk with his nail. The rats stopped their performance, and instead set their instruments down and bowed before him. When Shadow Milk twirled his wrist, they spun in circles in perfect synchronization, and when he lifted his hand they rose onto their back legs.

The demon giggled, petting the closet rat and gently brushing his thumb over their snout. Whatever unease built up inside Pure Vanilla eased at the sight, and he sighed into his hands.

"What are you going to do with them anyway?"

Shadow Milk traces a pattern onto the table, and a small portal opened up. The rats jumped in, and once the final one was gone, it closed without any trace of existing in the first place. The demon grinned at him, and his companions mimicked his smile- the fox's more unsettling than his lover, and the mouse's smile was a bit cute.

Pure Vanilla approached the table and rested his chin on Shadow Milk's shoulder. The demon pressed a quick peck to his temple, and Pure Vanilla let out a breathless chuckle.

"You're so weird…"

-

It is a rare occurrence for Pure Vanilla to become ill. He could count on one hand the amount of times he's been sick in the past ten years- a strong immunity and the general caution that comes from working in the medical field being the reason. But he's still human, and perhaps indulging Shadow Milk by chasing him through snow in a thin coat was not the best idea.

He let out a wet cough from his bed, laying miserably underneath layers of blankets that did little to soothe him since he felt like he was about to combust. Every time he attempted to sit up, Shadow Milk would be there to push him back down, letting out a warning trill whenever he so much as shifted.

Really, he should be the annoyed one- not the demon who was just fine diving headfirst into a pile of snow without a jacket. It was a bit unfair that he was the one being blamed for what happened, and he made it known by letting out a long whine.

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes in response, throwing on another blanket- this time crocheted. He hadn't known demons could have hobbies, but his bird always found a way to surprise him. As it adjusted the pillows around his head, giving a few a good fluff, Pure Vanilla let out a breathless gasp.

"T-the store," he croaked, struggling as he pushed himself up. "I…I have to open the store…"

The demon hissed, shoving Pure Vanilla back down on the bed with a firm hand against his sternum. Pinned down the bed, all Pure Vanilla could do was squirm under its hold.

"Shipment arrive today," he explained, weakly pushing at Shadow Milk's arm. "They can't be delayed- they'll freeze in this weather!"

Shadow Milk let out a huff, as if to say 'So what?' From his point of view, Pure Vanilla was a sad, pathetic mortal who was about to send himself to an early grave. He was doing the man a favor in keeping him down.

After a moment of contemplation, Shadow Milk pressed his thumb into Pure Vanilla's pulse-point. His heart was pounding- its rhythm too unstable to handle being outside right now, let alone to perform labor. With a click of his tongue, Shadow Milk chirped.

Under him, Pure Vanilla's movements ceased, his brows knitting together in both bafflement and confusion.

"…You'll run the store?" Pure Vanilla asked, unsure if he heard him right. "But… you hate people."

The demon pouted at the accusation, a slight twitch in his brow revealing his annoyance. Pure Vanilla sighed, brushing aside sweaty bangs that stuck to his forehead. "I don't mean to be unkind, dear, but you're terrible with people. Why would you want to run the store?"

Shadow Milk raised a brow, gesturing to all of Pure Vanilla as if to say 'Isn't it obvious? You're pitiful self can't even get up!'

Pure Vanilla winced, a wave of nausea hitting him and making him gag. Shadow Milk already had the bucket under his chin when a small bit of bile was thrown up, and he pressed a wet towel against his lips. Where did he even get that towel?

A clawed hand ran its nails through his hair, the cold touch of his hand a soothing balm against his warm skin. Pure Vanilla leaned into the touch, practically melting as the demon lightly scratched the back of his scalp. Shadow Milk let out a low coo, leaning down and pressing his cheek against his, feeling as Pure Vanilla relaxed against the bed.

He eased him back down, tucking him back into bed and pecking him on the cheek. Pure Vanilla's hand lifted up to cradle his cheek, his eyes half-lidded and shining with worry.

"Are you sure?" He asked, on the brink of falling asleep.

The demon scoffed, but pressed his lips against his palm. In its mind, it couldn't be that bad running the store. After all, he's always there anyway- what difference would it make if he was actively participating instead?

It turns out, quite a bit.

Before Shadow Milk left the house, Pure Vanilla had asked if he could change his clothes. When the demon had glared at him, he had embarrassingly admitted that he would rather keep the sight of it in its bodysuit for himself- so could he wear something less… skin tight?

With a huff, Shadow Milk had found a white dress shirt and black pants- both of which were too big, and forced him to roll the sleeves up his arm and pin the pants legs up to walk. At least he didn't have to change his boots.

As Shadow Milk stepped out the door, he was ambushed- arms wrapped around his middle, he was pulled back inside and smothered in kisses. The demon squawked and pushed Pure Vanilla back, a bright blush blooming onto his cheeks. Pure Vanilla weakly chuckled before finally releasing him.

"Please use the work phone if anything happens," He said, wrapping the blanket around himself tighter. "I'll do the same if my condition worsens."

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes, stuffing his arms into his coat and swinging the door shut behind him. He didn't really need the coat- he wasn't affected by the cold as mortals were, but it gave him an excuse to cling to Pure Vanilla's arm whenever he had the chance. That, and the fact that most of his feathers comprised the coat.

Its why he's so protective of it; the coat was most of his body mass, and he needed it to fully transform between the bird and demon form. Without it, he'd have to regrow all his feathers- and what an ugly picture that would be. He shivered at the memory of once having to do so after Sugar had stolen it and burnt it to a crisp. He was stuck as a human for months.

Trudging through the streets, he was tempted to at the very least hover over the ground. No one was outside at the moment given the few feet of snow piled at top the ground, but any attention he drew will inevitably go back to Pure Vanilla, and then his attention won't be on him anymore, and it was a lose-lose situation.

Thankfully, their house wasn't too far from the store. He unlocked the door with a flick of the wrist, and quickly made his way into the back. He decided to hang the coat on a wrack, and tied the apron Pure Vanilla always wore around his waist. A quick look in the mirror revealed a very convincing, very ordinary mortal- except for the eyes in the hair and scar that wrapped around his neck.

The tips of his fingers lightly brushed over the surface of the scar, the skin raised and still raw after centuries of healing. Shadow Milk clicked his tongue. This is exactly why he wore that bodysuit- it covered everything up, and made him inconspicuous to everyday humans. Oh well.

He snatched a roll of bandages from the first-aid kit and wrapped it around his throat. At least then he wouldn't have to think about it. Then, he tied his hair in a pony-tail, and admitted to himself that he looked nice this way.

Just as he finished admiring himself, there was a loud knock on the back door. The demon scowled, and mentally prepared himself for the next for hours. Really, who would want flowers in this condition?

As Pure Vanilla had said, the delivery van with the flower shipment arrived on time, and the man driving it seemed confused by his appearance. He had a clipboard in hand and pen, though he hesitated to hand it to him.

"Um… sir…?" The man squinted at him, his eyes flicking across his form. "Ma'am…? Where is Mr. Vanilla? Only the owner of the store can sign off on deliveries…"

Shadow Milk raised a brow, making the man flinch. With a slight of hand, the demon pulled out a piece of paper from behind his back and snapped it front of the man's face. He fought off a smile when the man jumped. It was the certificate for the flower shop, and at the bottom of the page it was signed by Pure Vanilla, and Shadow Milk- a new addition that he just added.

The man read it over for a few minutes, wetting his lips nervously before handing over the clipboard. "Ah- sorry for the confusion! I wasn't aware Mr. Vanilla had a co-owner."

Shadow Milk shrugged and signed the release papers, whistling as he did so. The man busied himself in bringing the new flowers inside, his breath coming out as little puffs of mist. Sometimes the man would glance back at it, wondering how he could stand out in the freezing cold without the jacket- but with one glare from the demon he went back to work.

After the delivery man left, Shadow Milk busied himself with tidying up the store. Little chores here and there; dusting the cabinets, rearranging the flowers, sweeping the flowers. He's not sure when these chores became soothing to him, a strange comfort in the mundanity of the acts, but it let time pass by quicker.

For a while, he thought that it would be an easy day, and by the end of it he would close up shop, return home, and get cuddle-time with his sick partner. The joys of being immortal- you can't get sick.

That was until three very familiar and annoying children barged into the store, panting and giggling as they tracked in snow on his clean floors. Those three visited often- sometimes to buy flowers, other times to simply have a place to sit as they did their homework for hours. No matter the time or day, Pure Vanilla would let them stay, and sometimes walk them back to the orphanage they came from.

Unfortunately, Shadow Milk did not reserve the same affection.

The most outgoing of the trio- a young boy named Gingerbrave- was the first to notice Shadow Milk behind the counter. With a tilt of his head, Gingerbrave let out a sound of confusion. "You're not Mr. Pure Vanilla."

Shadow Milk gave the boy a deadpan look, limping his wrist to say 'obviously.' Gingerbrave glanced around the shop, hoping to catch a glimpse of Pure Vanilla but he was nowhere to be seen. Pulling off the knitted hat on his head, he approached the counter.

"Do you know when he'll be back?" The boy innocently asked.

By the door, the boy always with his scarf wrapped tightly around his face squeaked. "Gingerbrave! You don't know who that is!"

Gingerbrave looked behind him, flashing the boy a wide grin. "Its alright Wizard! I'm sure whoever they are, Pure Vanilla trusts them to run the store!"

The last child, a shy girl with her pink hood always hiding her face, fidgeted with her fingers. "B-but Mr. Pure Vanilla doesn't have any employees- he works alone."

Gingerbrave looked back at the demon, his eyes wide and curious. "Oh yeah! Its rude to not introduce yourself!" He proclaimed, much to the annoyance to Wizard who shook his head. "My names Gingerbrave, and my friends by the door are Wizard and Strawberry! Its nice to meet you; whats your name?"

Shadow Milk had hoped that his standoffish attitude would drive off any customers from asking questions, but the embodiment of sunshine here seems to not grasp how much he does not want to be here.

Clicking his tongue, Shadow Milk grabbed a notepad from the back shelf and quickly scribbled down a name. He passed the notebook to the boy who was now crowded in by his friends.

"'Blueberry Yogurt?'" Gingerbrave read, tilting the notebook for his friends to read. "Well… its nice to meet you!"

Shadow Milk rolled his eyes, tapping his nails a top the counter. Not like he could reply- without Pure Vanilla, any conversation was dead before it started. The children, however, were still curious for answers.

"Where is Mr. Pure Vanilla?" Wizard asked, his eyes narrowed. "If he doesn't have any workers, how come you are here."

"Y-yeah!" Strawberry stuttered, gaining a bit of confidence in her voice. "Where is he?"

Oh, this was going nowhere. Shadow Milk's brow twitched as he struggled to fight off a scowl- he can't scare these kids off, Pure Vanilla wouldn't appreciate that. Instead, he pointed to his bandaged neck, and it seemed to click for them.

"Oh!" Gingerbrave exclaimed, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry- we didn't mean to pester you. Ah- here's your notepad back!"

Reclaiming the notepad, Shadow Milk was quick to write down a response. Simple in delivery, straight to the point, it read:

'Sick day.'

With that, the children settled down. But Wizard was still suspicious. "That still doesn't explain why you're here. Wouldn't he have just closed the shop?"

'Flower shipment. Wouldn't rest until handled.'

"You seem to know him well," Strawberry hummed, fiddling with the strings of her hood,

'Together.'

Gingerbrave's eyes seemed to sparkle at that. "Mr. Pure Vanilla has a partner?! That's so sweet!" He cheered, leaning over the counter and getting way closer than Shadow Milk was comfortable with.

"How did you two meet?" The boy asked, his grin bright and infectious.

"Are you the one Mr. Pure Vanilla mentioned being his 'special someone'?" Strawberry asked.

"You're quite… different from him," Wizard murmured, and that was Shadow Milk's limit.

The demon slammed the notepad onto the desk, sound echoing throughout the store and effectively quieting the children. Only after a few moments did Shadow Milk write something new onto the notepad, struggling to prevent the feathers under his shirt from poking out.

'Did you come for a reason.' It was more of a statement than a question.

Gingerbrave nervously scratched the back of his head, a shy blush on his cheeks. "Yeah! Sorry- I guess we got a bit sidetracked. Can we have a small bundle of flowers for our teacher? Its her birthday tomorrow, and we wanted to get her something."

Shadow Milk shrugged and rounded the counter with pen and notepad in hand. Their order had been simple enough; a few pretty flowers, enough to show appreciation for the work they've done without being too dramatic. He'd seen Pure Vanilla wrap the flowers enough times to do it himself, and when he was done, its like Pure Vanilla had done it himself.

He handed the flowers to Strawberry- trusting her the most to not crush them in her arms before they can make it to delivery. When Wizard moved to pay, he simply pushed the children towards the door. Maybe out of kindness, or maybe because of was too tired of them. Either way, he made them leave without paying, and watched as they trudged through the snow back home.

Such a simple interaction wore him out- he's not sure how Pure Vanilla deals with this so often. If it was up to him, he'd never leave their home that had all the comforts he could have every asked for. But that's not what Pure Vanilla wanted or needed; therefore, sacrifices are made, and he relents to his doll's whims.

Three hours before closing, he gets a call on the shop phone. Shadow Milk almost ignored it before remembering Pure Vanilla's promise from this morning, and threw himself across the room to answer it. There, on the other end of the phone, was the heavenly voice of his beloved.

"Shadow Milk?" Pure Vanilla mumbled, voice a bit better from this morning though still weak. "Are you alright?"

Using his nail, Shadow Milk lightly tapped on the receiver twice. He heard Pure Vanilla let out a sigh of relief, and the demon slowly slipped onto the tile floor and laid there, phone lazily held to his hear.

"That's good," Pure Vanilla hummed. "I was worried it'd be too much for you."

A single tap this time. "I know, dear," He giggled over the line. "I'm not insulting you; I just know how you are."

Two taps. "Would like to hear about my day? Not much has happened, but maybe it'll entertain you."

Two taps, and Pure Vanilla spun him a tail of struggling to stay still in bed, and battling their coffee machine to dispense hot water for his tea. They need to get an electric kettle, Shadow Milk thinks absentmindedly, feeling the tension slip from his shoulders. He hadn't even realized how tense he was.

Just like that, Shadow Milk spent an entire hour listening to his doll talk about the most mundane of tasks. But it wasn't boring, or a chore to here. For Shadow Milk, it was a beautiful story he wished to cherished.

Unfortunately, the moment is ruined when the bell by the door rings, signaling that a new customer arrived. Letting out a sigh, Shadow Milk forced himself up, rolling his neck as he looked up at the door.

He froze.

Not in terror, or fright exactly. Just knowing that this visit wouldn't be pleasant.

There at the door was a demon. It had already visited the store once before, cradled in the arms of a woman who knew too much, and now standing there before him, human. Pure Vanilla, sensing the shift in tone, asked if he was okay. Shadow Milk placed the phone back on the receiver, leaving the two demons completely alone.

Of course he'd wait for him to be alone, the sly bastard. His coat was in the back, and his head would be on the floor before he could touch that door. What rotten luck he has.

The demon, with almost all his face covered with a mask, approached the front desk slowly. Steel-toed boots clanked against the tiled floor, and Shadow Milk chewed on his lip in anticipation. He really, really wished he stayed home.

Once they were face to face, Shadow Milk could see peaks of burnt, torn flesh around the edges where his mask failed to reach. He let out a shrill giggle- much to the annoyance of the demon in front of him.

"Is there something amusing I'm not aware of?" The demon asked, his eyes narrowed into dangerous pricks.

Shadow Milk grinned, all teeth and dripping malice. His claws digged into the counter, his feathers sprouting from under his collar. The scar around his neck burned; he knew Silent Salt's was burning as well.

Silent Salt leaned over the counter, his face centimeters from Shadow Milk's. The need to claw his face- to rip the remaining shreds of flesh off that stupid, self-righteous bastard's face was overwhelming. The way he glanced at his neck, he knew Silent Salt was thinking the same thing.

Then, as suddenly as he approached, he leaned back. He let out a disgruntled, disgusted grunt. "I was hoping the blonde one would be here."

Shadow Milk's eye twitched, feathers sprouting under his eyes in anger. Silent Salt brow twitched, and then he glanced around the room. "I'm surprised this place is still intact given you're track record."

Talons scrapped against the counter, barely contained rage bubbling up his throat- yet Shadow Milk did not pounce. Not when he knew what was at stake. Silent salt lifted his hand to his mask, and pulled down the mask. There, scraps of flesh barely clung to his cheeks and lower jaw- visible bone and muscle revealed by vicious claws.

"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" He questioned, waiting for any reason, any excuse to put him down for good.

Maybe any other day he would have indulged in their games. Instead, Shadow Milk pulled out a sign from under the desk and slammed it onto the table.

'Flowers 50% off for couples!' It read, and Silent Salt shook his head, letting out a gruff, humorlessly chuckle. Shadow Milk's grin was viscous, and for a brief moment in time, there was a truce.

The demon would leave with a bouquet gently held in his arms, made with delicate lilies and other flowers of his choosing. The other demon would rush into the back, and wrap himself tight in his coat for the rest of the night. Once closing arrived, the shop was closed, and the demon returned to his sick lover's bed, clinging to him the rest of the night.

-

When Pure Vanilla had first read that book regarding demons, he noticed that Shadow Milk was part of a group.

Four other demons, to be exact, and while he could assume the fox and mouse to be demons as well, they didn't match the diagrams that depicted the other four. Besides his dear bird, there appeared to be a knight meant to pass judgment; a slothful snake; a nihilistic tarantula; and a monstrous dragon.

The knight didn't match the animal theme around them, but the helmet could be covering any animal-like details there may be. The rest of them he could reasonable identify, but after all the time they've spent together, Shadow Milk hasn't mentioned them.

Once, in the comfort of their bedroom, he had inquired about his fellow demons. They had just gotten home from work, bathed together- which was more spent arguing then actually washing- and now they were cuddled together on the bed. For the first time, Shadow Milk had changed out of his bodysuit willingly and wore pajamas (they were his clothes, but its still an improvement.)

The question can to him randomly. "Where are the other demons?"

He felt Shadow Milk tense on next to him, an odd look crossing his face. Pure Vanilla's hand rested on his hip, and he gave it a comforting squeeze, resting his check against the demon's soft hair.

"Would you rather not say?" Pure Vanilla inquired, and Shadow Milk pursed his lips.

The demon detached himself from Pure Vanilla's hold, sitting up just enough to lift his leg and swing it over his hip to straddle his waist. He looked nice in human clothing, Pure Vanilla thought to himself. It softens him without stripping away the eccentricities that make him Shadow Milk. The soft pink shirt that's a size to large on him, and the cream-colored sweatpants almost tricks you into thinking he's approachable.

Shadow Milk hesitated for a moment, the pads of his darkened fingers tips, where talons would break skin pushing through, tapped his chest lightly. Then, he rested his palms over Pure Vanilla's throat- not choking, not even holding, really. Instead, it simply rested there, feather-like in its touch and feeling the subtle movement of his cords.

Pure Vanilla laid his hands overtop his, brushing his thumb over the knuckles comfortingly. They had only tried to once before, and after Shadow Milk hated it, they hadn't again. The chirps were enough, but it seemed Shadow Milk disagreed this time.

"Why must you ask?" The demon asked, his voice brittle and cracked. It wasn't mimicry this time- this was his own voice, his own will bleeding through. It was a broken, shrill sound, but it was a wonderful melody to Pure Vanilla's ears.

"Simple curiosity, my dear Bluebird," he said, tracing imaginary patterns on the back of Shadow Milk's hand.

Shadow Milk tilted his head, carefully contemplating his next words, before speaking once more. "Scattered. We aren't together often."

"Does that make you sad?"

The demon's eyes narrow. "Why would it?"

"They're your friends, aren't they?"

At that, Shadow Milk's expression soured, something that appeared to be shame shining through his eyes. "No, not really."

Pure Vanilla lifted his hand to cradle his cheek, watching as he leaned into his touch, the tension unraveling from his body. "Do you miss them?"

Shadow Milk glanced to the side, remembering a moment in time where maybe, maybe he could have missed them. He's not sure if he does.

"No, I don't, and I'm sure they don't either," He mumbled, and laid himself over Pure Vanilla, nuzzling into his neck. "Now, let me sleep."

After that, it left Pure Vanilla feeling a bit… sad. The apparent loneliness in his inflection, the hesitance in which he spoke of them. It must be lonely, he thinks, being a demon who's purpose is to torment- there isn't any room to simply be, is there?

If he held Shadow Milk a bit tighter that night, the demon didn't make any mention of it. Before he fell asleep, he began to wonder how long this will realistically last. He's mortal, and while he may live a long life, Shadow Milk will out live him a thousand times over.

Should he be indulging in this, then?

…What was he thinking? Pure Vanilla bit his lip, his arms which encircled the demon's waist tightening. He knows the inevitable, and he still choose this- was he really thinking of backing out now?

But it begged the question; what will happen after he's gone? Even if Pure Vanilla didn't want it to end, its not his choice. Death was the natural cycle for mortals, and he couldn't avoid such fate forever. What was he meant to do?

The next morning was his day's off, and he decided that some research could do him well. He had left Shadow Milk in their bed, warm and content as could be with the promise of returning in a few hours. That's how long Shadow Milk could tolerate being alone for on weekends- he just loved the attention he was showered with.

Back in the supernatural section of the library, Pure Vanilla scanned through books of demon kind. He wasn't looking specifically for Shadow Milk this time- instead, he needed something a bit more general for his plans. Though he did take a break to read up on his dear demon's antics, wincing a few times whenever the person was made to dance on hot coals for amusement.

Maybe he shouldn't be surprised there isn't a section on 'demon courting'; no reasonable mind (expect him) would approached a demon with the intentions of courting. And, really, Shadow Milk and him were far past the courting stages of their relationship.

Reaching a dead-end, Pure Vanilla groaned and laid his head dejectedly in his arms. He knows Shadow Milk's a demon, and regular affectionate acts didn't mean the same to him as it would to any other person. But just because he was a demon didn't mean he didn't deserve to be loved. Oh, how he ached to love Shadow Milk properly…

Once he arrived home, disappointed in both himself and his efforts, he found Shadow Milk on the couch with two cups of hot chocolate. The demon perked up at his appearance, holding out the warm mug for him to take. He couldn't help the curl of affection take root in his heart as he took the mug into his hand, quietly thanking him for it.

He sat down next to the demon, letting it lean against him and nestle as close possible. He could hear Shadow Milk's chest rumble as he purred, happily drinking his chocolate and enjoying the warmth of his lover. And maybe this was enough.

Maybe he didn't need to do something big like a demon-courting-ritual, or mend relationships that have clearly run their course. Maybe all he really needed to do was be there, in the present, and that was enough.

Pure Vanilla took a sip of his chocolate, made just how he liked it, and spoke.

"I love you," He blurted out, yet it fell naturally from his lips. The demon next to him lifted its head, looking at him curiously.

He couldn't help but return the look with a fond smile. "I love you, Shadow Milk. I don't think even death will take that away from me."

Shadow Milk's pupils narrowed, his hands trembling around his mug. Perhaps he was laying his feelings on thick, but he couldn't help the bursting feelings of love from spilling out.

"I hope that when I'm gone, I will have meant something to you," He spoke evenly, and found himself with a lapful of concerned demon.

The little distressed chirps he let out, cradling his face with one hand while balancing the mug in the other, were damning cute. He checked him over, confused about where his declarations were coming from, when Pure Vanilla pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Sorry," he apologized, his voice shaking with emotions. "I just can't help but love you."

Shadow Milk's breath hitched, then, and he hid his face in his neck. His dear bird was flustered, blush heating his face from his cheeks to the tips of his pointed ears. Pure Vanilla leaned down to press another kiss, this time to his temple.

Quietly, Shadow Milk tried to speak.

"Lah…" He began, his throat dry and making his voice crack. Yet, the demon was determined to say this one thing on his own. "Lah… love…"

"Love…you… love you," He croaked, and then tilted Pure Vanilla's face towards his, grinning at the stunned expression on his face.

Shadow Milk leaned up, and pressed his lips against Pure Vanilla's. A slow, tender kiss. Not rushed, not demanding- instead it was sickeningly sweet, never once frightening for dominance. Pure Vanilla set his mug aside to hold Shadow Milk's face in his hand, and captured his lips over, and over again.

Yes, this was enough for him. This domestic bliss, this humble life- it's more than he's ever asked for, and it's more than enough for him. Even if he'll one day leave it behind, he'll always know his Bluebird to be kindest gift he could have ever asked for.