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dontenchantme · 4 years

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sacrificial lamb

Rated T, Solomon x MC.

once upon a time he would have taken advantage of her naivety. actually, scratch that – he still would.

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Maybe he was a coward.

It wasn’t a thought he liked to entertain, but whenever he looked at her part of him immediately recoiled. It was the same part of him that kept him sane and alive all these years – he couldn’t trust anyone, because people were inherently unreliable and trusting in the fallibility of mortality was a mistake he would never make again.

Centuries had passed and still, he was here, waiting and watching for the end of the world, for the promised salvation. Sometimes he wondered if it would be easier to close his eyes and just let go, but he had never been the kind to enjoy uncertainty.

Sin was a uniquely human concept. It was something only mortals could come up with, the idea that virtue and sin were split along a fixed boundary. Humans had a penchant for locking things up in clearly-labelled boxes. Black and white. Truth and lies. Good and evil. Once upon a time, he had fallen prey to such ideas as well.

But as time passed, he grew to realise that these distinctions were illusionary. Angels were no more good than demons were evil. They were beings meant to shape and influence the balance of the world. But it was human to prescribe traits and desires for that which they did not understand. It was how they attempted to make meaning out of nothing.

Should he try to understand her then, in his own way? Should he try to interpret her actions and words, see them through the filter of his perspective? Would that bring him one step closer to figuring out what was going through her mind?

Maybe it had been too long. Once in a while he tried to place himself in her shoes – he tried to follow her train of thought, follow the way she would pause and think to herself right before she answered his questions. He observed the way her expressions shifted, the way she’d glance at him when she thought that he wasn’t looking. But try as he might, he couldn’t get inside her head.

He didn’t know when he lost touch with his humanity. He found himself lingering on thoughts, on memories that blurred the line between past and fantasy – he began to question the clarity of his knowledge and his experiences. If the stories that praised his name were true, then why did they sound so foreign? As though the one being exalted was not him but a stranger, and he was simply borrowing their face.

King Solomon, who once solved the riddle of the baby and its mother. His most famous story, the one chosen to go down in history to showcase his wisdom – but it was a memory he could barely even remember. It had just been any other day, any other pair of civilians seeking his counsel. Nothing about them had particularly stood out.

Death from natural causes. His fingers clenched at the thought.

“Solomon?” He heard her voice call his name and he turned around – this was one of the rare few times he didn’t notice her presence before she spoke.

“Yes?” His smile was a reflex. Years of practised emotion, years spent restraining his feelings, never allowing any vulnerability to show on his face. Her eyes met his and once again he could sense her trying to take him apart, trying to read his expression – it was strange to see someone so interested in finding out his secrets, and for no reason other than to satisfy her curiosity. Such innocent motivation.

And she was so damn persistent about it too. His lips twitched.

“Why did you go to the human world?” she asked. He exhaled. Of course, that was the first thing she’d ask him. He just hadn’t thought that she’d come to him so soon. He felt a little sting in his chest, an emotion he vaguely recognised to be irritation – did she truly view him as nothing more than a puzzle to be solved? It had been two weeks since they last met in the flesh, and this was the first thing she decided to bring up.

But he locked the feeling away. It didn’t matter what she thought of him. “Why? Did you want to go with me?” he asked.

He noticed the way her gaze shifted away from him as he spoke. Her clothes looked wrinkled – she must have woken up from her nap and immediately left her room to look for him. Her eagerness was amusing, but it made him happy. Just a little.

“Not really,” she muttered. “But you should have mentioned something before you just disappeared. People noticed. And I was…kind of concerned.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You were concerned?” he echoed.

Her feelings were as clear as day, even if she refused to admit anything to him. It was fun to watch her struggle sometimes. He wondered if he could get her to tell him the truth one day, but he also wondered about the consequences of that.

He might be vague, and he knew he annoyed her, but he didn’t want to break her heart. That was the only reason he had left things in limbo like this. Deep down, he was a coward. He was selfish, and he was afraid of losing someone he cared about.

“Of course!” Her vehement response took him by surprise. “You disappeared for two weeks, Solomon. You didn’t tell anyone where you were going and you were completely uncontactable. I know you’re a powerful sorcerer and you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean I won’t worry.” Her voice softened, and she took a step towards him. “You look tired. Have you always been this tired?” she whispered.

Did he? He hadn’t looked in any mirrors lately. He didn’t like to see his reflection. “I’ve had some bad nights,” he answered with a shrug. Her fault mostly, but she didn’t need to know that. “It’s not a big deal,” he added, noticing the look on her face. “Just…some nightmares. They bring back memories I’d rather not remember.”

She hesitated. When she next spoke he could hear the tremor of fear in her words – it made her voice quiver. “Have you been appearing in my dreams, Solomon?”

He frowned. “Why would you ask?” Though he knew. He just didn’t want to give her an absolute answer, not when he had yet to understand the situation. How could a mortal with no magic of her own keep summoning him to her dream world?

Sure, he had opened the door twice, but both times he made sure to sever the connection between them afterwards. That path should no longer be accessible. He had checked on it personally to reassure himself that he didn’t make some kind of rookie mistake, and it was locked tight. There had to be something else.

If he could pinpoint the moment she opened her dream world to him then maybe it would be possible to resolve this problem, but even he had difficulties identifying where her access point was. Still, he’d need to find an answer soon.

Day by day, he felt himself becoming more listless. There was only so much rest he could get when he was being forcibly yanked around someone else’s dreams – if he didn’t cut their connection soon, things might not end well for either of them.

“You’ve been appearing in my dreams lately.” She paused. When she next spoke her voice was subdued. “You mentioned you were real once, too. And since you know magic, I’m just wondering…if you’ve been tampering with my dreams?”

“What answer do you want to hear?” He already expected her to ask for the truth. She was always requesting the truth, always searching for his secrets. He couldn’t understand why. Instead of asking him about the secret to immortality, as most other people would, she decided to ask him once again why he was collecting pacts.

If it was anyone else, he would have simply dismissed them as foolish. But when it came to her, he wasn’t as sure. He couldn’t always understand her motivations, and that frustrated him.

There was a surprisingly long pause, and that piqued his interest. Here she was, presented with a rare opportunity for an honest response, and yet she hesitated. “I think you were in my dreams. They’re too detailed to be just my imagination.”

“If you already know the answer, then why do you still ask?” he said. His smile was beginning to hurt his face. But it was easier to maintain this façade than to reveal how conflicted he was about the entire situation. He hated not understanding.

He was supposed to be wise. That was what his memories told him. What all the stories said. If he couldn’t answer such a simple question, then did that make him an imposter?

“I wanted to hear you say it. You here, right now.” His eyes widened a fraction when she reached for him, her fingers intertwining with his. Her hands were warm. Or maybe he was just cold. “You’re so different in my dreams. I don’t know which one is the real you. Which one I should believe. The things that you’ve said…”

She was talking too much. He leant in to kiss her and she fell silent – he had always enjoyed the way she responded to his touch. It was endearing, almost. There was something undeniably intoxicating about how susceptible she was to him, even if he knew this would hurt her – even if he knew none of this would end well.

Her lips were soft, and he slid his fingers through her hair, holding her in place. He was a little surprised that he wasn’t tired of this – it was strange for him to be in any kind of long-term relationship – but he liked to see the contrast between what she was usually like and how she behaved when they were together.

The way she looked when she parted from him, her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed, or the way she looked underneath him, her fingers twisting in his pillow, her lips parted in a soft cry – it was so different from her usual reticence. He liked knowing that he was the one who could evoke such responses from her.

But today, she pulled away first, biting her lip and averting her gaze. “Don’t try to distract me,” she said, though her cheeks were coloured the usual pink. He ran his fingers through her hair, scratching gently against her scalp – that elicited a familiar moan from her. He knew she liked him playing with her hair.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be distracted?” he whispered, his words holding a world of promise. If she wanted him, he could get them to his room right now. Not that he was needy at the moment, but it was so much easier to communicate when they were wrapped up in each other, caring for little besides their carnal desires.

He hated talking about his feelings. He hated talking about anything that might shed light on his problems. And he hated talking about the future. Why couldn’t they just have their fun while it lasted? One day they’d both leave this place and she’d go back to her happy, oblivious human life and he would continue in his position as one of the great prophets, cursed with an everlasting twilight existence.

Nothing good ever came out of humans interfering with the unknown. Adam and Eve. Pandora’s Box. The Celestial War. History had a funny way of repeating itself. He, of all people, should know that. His descendants were cursed because of his sins. His existence hung by the thinnest of threads, and the simplest mistake could cause it to snap. Falling in love with a human was one of those mistakes.

She wavered for a moment. He knew she was too attracted to him to disregard the suggestion entirely – he had no idea why she was so interested in him, and at this point, he couldn’t care less. But she shook her head and looked at him. “I’m not going to let you avoid the question this time, Solomon,” she told him.

“Persistent.” He sighed. “Why are you so stubborn about pursuing the truth?”

He could tell from the surprise on her face that this was a question she hadn't thought much about. “Isn’t it natural to want to know more? And this involves me. I think I have the right to know,” she answered. He studied her. There was no trace of any doubt, and he wished that he was able to believe as strongly in his convictions.

“Curiosity is the root cause of sin,” he said. “It’s selfish. Curiosity often comes at the expense of others, who are trampled upon just so you can get the answers you seek.” She didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed intently on him. “And still you wish to know the truth? You must understand that you may not like what you hear.”

“Tell me,” she said. Nothing was surprising about her response.

“Fine. I was in your dream.” He saw her tense, but he continued anyway. How she reacted to his words wasn’t his concern. Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. “You remember what my dream self said. Rest assured that I will find a solution to our little problem. But more importantly…” He paused, making sure to look her square in the eyes before he continued. “You should stay away from me. For your own good.”

“See, that’s the part I don’t understand. You said that being with you will hurt me.” She exhaled. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me not to ask –”

“Stop. Stop digging,” he hissed, and she abruptly quietened, her eyes widening. “Stop asking questions. Why this, why that. What are you thinking? Or why can’t you tell me? I would explain everything to you if I could. But I can’t!”

He could hear the frustration in his voice, and he loathed himself for it. He was supposed to be calm. Collected. He always had to be in control. She was the only one who could make him feel anything. Why did it have to be her? “You’re far too trusting. Too curious. A lamb to the slaughter. I don’t understand you at all.”

What was this feeling in his chest? It felt like something was cracking, suffocating him. He closed his eyes and turned away from her, trying to gather his thoughts – everything was a fragmented mess at this point. Why wouldn’t she just accept his warning? He knew that when humans saw danger signs they normally obeyed the instructions, so why wouldn’t she listen to him? He was a walking apocalypse. Couldn’t she tell?

“Solomon…” Her voice was soft. He detested that softness. He wished she’d look at him with fear and revulsion in her eyes – he wished she would do something that reminded him of just how much he despised people. Humans couldn’t be trusted.

But still, he raised his head and looked at her. Instead of nervousness – what had he been expecting? She was the most reckless human he’d ever seen, and she clearly had no perception of danger – the only thing he saw in her eyes was pity. And he hated that too.

He didn't need her pity. But he was drawn to her anyway, like a moth to a flame – drawn to the offer of warmth and comfort, to the knowledge that if he just said the right words, he could drown in her scent for the rest of the night and forget who he was. It was tempting, that promise of escape. He hesitated. He wanted her.

“Why are you even still here?” he asked, his voice low. “I know you’re frustrated by me. I know you have no lack of alternatives – your demons are overprotective, and most of them are infatuated with you. So, why do you still choose to stay?”

She didn’t say anything for a while, but he felt her reach for his hand again, and the warmth of her fingers was strangely comforting. Was this what affection felt like? It wasn’t an emotion he was familiar with, not after spending such a long time on his own.

He wasn’t lonely. At least, he didn’t think he was. “I was curious about you,” she finally answered. “In the beginning, anyway. But…the more we talked, the more I grew to care.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I’m still curious. But it doesn’t feel great to know that you’re in pain like this. Especially if it’s my fault.”

He wanted to snort. Him? In pain? And over her? She thought too highly of herself. But at the same time, he couldn’t bring himself to refute her statement. There was a tiny kernel of truth in there, as much as it pained him to admit it. “There wouldn’t be any problem if you just stayed away from me. I warned you.”

“But you wouldn’t be happy if that happened, right?” she reasoned. He raised an eyebrow, and she exhaled. “You should have seen your face when you said those words, Solomon.” She sounded surprisingly tender. “You're usually difficult to read, but this time there's sadness in your eyes.”

Since when did she become so perceptive? “You’re seeing things that aren’t there.”

Her gaze was steady. “No, I’m not. And you know that.”

“Don’t think you’re an expert on me just because I talk to you.”

“I wouldn’t dare declare myself an expert. But I think I know enough to recognise when you’re behaving strangely.”

“You’re a fool for not running away.” And she’d eventually grow to hate him, or she would betray him like everyone else. He didn’t know which would hurt more.

“You’re a fool for turning down help when you need it,” she countered. He gritted his teeth. Normally he’d enjoy their little back-and-forth, but this was not one of those times. She was too quick-witted for her own good.

“I don’t need any help. Especially not from you,” he snapped.

“Solomon.” He froze at the sound of his name – she sounded stern. Almost angry. She had never gotten angry at him before. “You need help. I care about you, and I’m not going to run away just because you think I should.”

His lips curved into a smile, but his chest felt hollow. “You’re truly a fool. The very epitome of human idiocy. But I can’t do anything about it if you won’t heed my warnings.”

“I’m in the Devildom, and I’ve gambled my soul away by forming pacts with seven of the most powerful demons in Hell.” She shrugged. “I’ve done worse things than just sticking with someone who has mysteriously gained some kind of self-sacrificial saviour complex.”

“That’s uncalled for.” But his smile became a little more genuine anyway. He was still doubtful, and he knew she wasn’t making the best decision, but he had done his part by stating the truth. If she still wanted to interfere with his existence, there was little he could do.

He knew what humans were like, having been one himself. They were as persistent as a dog with a bone. The most he could do now was simply attempt to protect her from the inevitable fallout.

And if anything should happen to her, he would be with her every step of the way, no matter her destination – be it the pearly gates of the Celestial Realm or the fiery pits of Hell. It was the least he could do for her, after all.

#solomon obey me #solomon x mc #obey me #obey me shall we date

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