Yandere Barbatos? How do you think he would be?
âDo you not like the tea?â His question jolted you from your dazed thoughts, forcing your gaze from the cup in front of you across to the demon sat opposite.
The setup was nice, perfect for a date you would even say, a small table draped with a pure white cloth, a delicate porcelain tea set, sat under a white, intricate metal gazebo watching the night sky.
Perhaps you couldâve considered it perfect, but much like those fairy tales that were so enjoyed, it didnât take a much harder look to see something wasnât right. The tea had long since gone cold, back rigidly straight, body tense as if waiting for the right moment to bolt from the scene. Barbatosâ smile was gentle, but you knew better than anyone that he couldnât be further from that docile image he presented.
He shook his head slightly, expression not moving. You remained tight lipped as he took his hands off his crossed knees, standing gracefully. âAre you perhaps not feeling well? I noticed you seemed a bit stressed lately which is why I arranged this date for us, yet your mind seems to be elsewhere. Is there perhaps something you are unsatisfied with?â You looked down at your lap, biting your lip. There was a lot you were unsatisfied with.
âThat couldnât be the case now, could it? After all, I donât restrict you, nor your movements, I donât stop you from seeing the brothers, or Diavolo, the angels, nor Solomon, we go back to the human world for some time away occasionally, you are provided with everything you ask for, what more could you want from me?â
He didnât restrict you. Not in words anyway.
âIf you remain silent, how am I meant to know whatâs bothering you?â Still you didnât speak. The area was silent for a moment, only the buzz of wildlife, until the click of his heels against the paving reached your ears. Each step seemed dragged out, ominous as he came to stand beside you. âIs this because youâre tired? It must be, after all I know you wouldnât deliberately ignore me. Or have you been spending too much time with one of them?â
You stayed firm in your petty defiance, and when his tone dropped, you felt a shiver crawl down your spine.
âWho is it this time? Maybe Lucifer, warning you against me, or is it Simeon trying to tempt you to the Celestial Realm and out of my reach, were you maybe swept away in Mammon or Asmodeusâ scemes, did you maybe even plead to Diavolo to send you back to the Human Realm?â
Each sentence was like a stab to the heart, a clear memory dragged to the surface with each.
â...Please stop talking about them like theyâre enemies.â Your voice was weak when you forced it out past your lips, and you only heard him chuckle in response. He picked up the cold teapot from the centre of the table and rested one hand on the back of your chair.
âI donât wish to consider them so, but you see, their words seem to hold much sway over you. He positioned the teapot over your untouched cup. âThey feed you lies, things you want to hear, close enough to the truth for you to begin to doubt.â He lifted the handle, allowing a small trickle the flow. âYou begin to doubt my words, my actions, my sincerity, everything I do for you.â The tea reached the very rim of the cup. âYou become so accepting of their views that you take it as your own, allowing yourself to be swept away, lost in them instead.â The cup overflowed, the saucer soon filling too, before it began to drip, steadily progressing into a stream that stained the white cloth below a diluted amber. âTheir prescencr affects you, reaching out and touching every corner of your life, spilling into every part of you. It hurts me to watch it happen.â He placed the pot down again, only to then run his finger against the surface of the tea in the cup, before it dipped into the liquid, plucking out the bloomed flower that had floated to the surface, admiring it for a few moments before he continued. âYouâre so easily influenced, so indiscriminate, that itâs just so easy for you to be...â his eyes raised from the flower, meeting your own as he clenched his hands around the flower, crushing it effortlessly into his palm â...destroyed.â
With your attention on him now, he allowed his hand to extend, dropping the smashed flower into the grass next to the gazebo, before his hand reached your cheek. His white glove now stained amber too, it was cold against your cheek, but you could only be thankful his gloves werenât stained red this time.
âThis is because I love you, you know?â So he claimed.
âThis is for your sake, you understand that, right?â How many times had you heard that from him as he stood over the bodies of the friends trying to help you? You gave a slow nod.
âIâm glad you do. No matter how many times I have to change the universe, no matter how many times I have to move us, no matter how many times I have to tear everything apart and start anew, no matte how many sacrifices I must make, I will find us a universe in which we can be happy together.â The grip on your cheek tightened slightly. âEven if that universe isnât this one.â
His words pressed down on any dwindling hope you had left. He was right, and you knew it. No matter how many times you had fought, schemed, manipulated, pleaded, seduced and begged, you never made it far. Sometimes youâd gotten close enough to taste freedom, only for your balance to waver, your head to spin, and your vision to fade and for you to find yourself back in his arms. The worst times were when you sought help, the images were burned into your eyelids, sometimes fast, eyes burning with life that was snuffed out in an instant, sometimes slow, drawn out, and painful, their yelling was drilled in your ears along with the sound of flesh tearing. Heâd give you a moment to see his work, but not to comprehend it fully, cry, or mourn, only to then be pulled into yet another reality, the friends who lay dead at your feet once again alive and well, completely unaware of the horrors that plagued you. Youâd lost count of how many times it had happened, you werenât sure you wanted to know anymore.
â...I know, Barbatos.â
âGood, Iâm glad you do.â His hand dropped from your cheek, the dirty porcelain and cloth cleaned away in an instant. âNow then, would you like another cup? You didnât even touch the first after all.
âMaybe chamomile this time, you seem tired. It would help you relax, how does that sound?â
âGood.â He nodded, his own smile seeming to relax slightly. âIâll only be a moment, donât go anywhere while Iâm away, who knows what I might do if you go running off again.
You gave a shallow nod. What was the point, youâd tried so many times already, not once succeeding. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how you changed, influenced the people around the two of you, no matter how far you left, by his design-
â..........I love you too, Barbatos.â
Every road lead back to him.
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