It’s a peculiar thing, what the blood does to him. It makes his skin tingle, and digs up old emotions he’d forgotten he ever had.
That’s the thing about demons, they can’t feel anything, they’re not supposed to anyway. Sure, they can fill the marrow of their meatsuit’s bones and slip into their skin, but there’s no feeling there. Not any real ones anyhow.
Eventually, everything starts to blend together. Sensations fuse together to describe indescribable masses of stuff.
And eventually you want all of those wonderful and mesmerizing sensations back. But you can’t have them. It’s too much for your damned soul, too human for it to comprehend.
But, the blood brings them back. Ripe and raw, like fresh wounds dabbed with salt. But it’s a pleasant sort of pain. A pain that stands as a reminder of another time, for better or worse.
Though in his case, it seemed to be the latter. Demons aren’t familiar with the emotions of love and happiness, it’s the price they pay for selling their souls in the first place. They’re fueled by anger and resentment instead, their souls twisted too long and too much to be capable of feeling anything else.
And yet, when the blood courses through his meatsuit’s veins he feels overwhelmed with that desire to be loved.
The thought of it makes him scoff. Who in their right mind would ever love a demon?
No one, that’s who. But that doesn’t stop him from trying to find someone, something that will love him for what he is; no strings attached.
Because he, like everything, deserves to be loved.409Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAOKbqDtE3g
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