Asuriel stood in front of the mirror in her underwear, inspecting the tattoo more carefully. It wrapped around her entire thigh, and when she removed her shirt, she found that the runes covered her lower abdomen.
The tattoos itched so severely that she felt like clawing off her skin. She groaned in frustration and sat beside the incense, almost burned out.
"I'm sure this is part of what Mom was trying to protect me from," Asuriel thought aloud.
With each passing moment, her headache increased in severity, and the itching eventually turned to burning. She decided it would be best to call her mom, but the screen cracked the moment she touched her phone.
"Um-"
Everything got worse.
Asuriel felt as though her flesh was melting from her bones, and her chest throbbed painfully. A bright glow emanated from her hands and, with the light, accompanied a searing pain deep in her bones.
"What the hell is happening? Am I dying?… am I exploding?" Asuriel gasped, tears welling in her eyes. She had no idea what was going on. "Someone help me! Please!"
As if the universe was listening to her plight, a mysterious figure appeared before her in a flash of fire and smoke. However, before she had the chance to feel relieved, she observed that the stranger looked anything but friendly.
She swallowed nervously, the man's expression scary enough to send a shiver down her spine. The only thing that stopped her from yelling in fear was his good looks, which left her momentarily stunned.
Despite his disheveled appearance, he was one of the most devilishly handsome men Asuriel had ever seen. His sleek black hair was curly and fell to his shoulders but was slicked back to give him a clean, professional look.
His suit was deep crimson and appeared custom-made… but his cuff links and shoulders were freshly singed, still emitting smoke.
"This… is not where I need to be," the man hissed, brushing ash off his shoulders as he scanned his surroundings with a sharp glare. He turned to Asuriel and spat accusingly, "You. What have you done?"
Asuriel glared back at him. "…What have I done? You're the one who just exploded into my living room!"
"You summoned me! I didn't show up because I wanted to," the stranger took a step closer to her, his nose crinkled in disgust.
"Summoned? I don't have magic; I can't summon anything or anyone for that matter," Asuriel argued.
"Your incense reeks, you're in your underwear, and I was in the middle of something important. I couldn't possibly be here without outside interference – and you're the only one here," he said, voice laced with irritation.
Asuriel had forgotten she wasn't wearing clothes but pushed the thought aside. Being embarrassed came second to a freak showing up in her house in a puff of fire and smoke.
He looked at her disdainfully, and when she didn't speak, he continued, "Since you're slow, I'll explain it to you: somehow, whether purposeful or not, you summoned me here. I don't know how, either, and frankly, it's pissing me off."
She was about to argue again when the realization struck. Looking at him up closer, he looked familiar. Painfully familiar. His features were sharp and beautiful, but most importantly, his eyes were a frightening, piercing gold that felt like they tore through her.
"I've seen you before! You're the broody demon guy who orders weird drinks and sits in the corner!" Asuriel stated in an accusatory tone.
"Devil, not demon," he corrected. "There's a difference. Also, I'm not broody – but otherwise, yes, that's me. And you're the bartender who glares at her customers and smells like a waste plant."
"I'm Asuriel," Asuriel took another step toward him. "What's your name, devil?"
After speaking, she realized that her headache had started easing up – contrary to the new, figurative headache standing right before her. And, as she got closer, the tattoos on her thigh and stomach started to glow a deep red.
"I'm Vaerion Si-…" he trailed off and furrowed his brows with discomfort. He looked down at her glowing tattoos, a look of recognition in his amber gaze, then rolled up the sleeve on his left arm.
Extending up his forearm and down onto the back of his hand were runes that looked stunningly similar to the ones she had. Much to his chagrin, his tattoo was glowing as well.
"No fucking way," he muttered. He attempted to step back, only for his tattoo to swirl around and his wrist tugged by an invisible force back towards her. "I knew you had a weird aura, but you shouldn't be capable of this! It's impossible!"
Asuriel felt the tugging just as much as Vaerion. Her face became puzzled, and she looked up at him, "Uh. What, exactly, am I capable of?"
"We're bound! You've made some binding spell," Vaerion explained angrily. "Remove this at once."
"I don't know how!" she said. "I don't know what's going on! I was minding my own business, and then I… exploded?… and you showed up."
Vaerion turned away from her. He lifted his hand and drew a small rune in the air, casting a spell. Once complete, his body was enveloped in black and red smoke, and he disappeared into thin air.
Before Asuriel had time to process what had just happened, she felt a tug on her thigh, and he reappeared in front of her again.
"Fuck," he groaned. He tried the same thing a few more times and even attempted to leave through her front door, only to be returned to her each time.
Asuriel couldn't help but feel amused. She sat on her couch, "So, you're stuck with me."
Vaerion looked at her with a perplexed frown. "I shouldn't be."
"And yet…" Asuriel trailed off, glancing from her thigh to his wrist. He frowned and didn't respond, closing his eyes as he deliberated what to do.
She inspected him curiously. Although it was confirmed that he was the weird, rich guy from the Lounge, something else about him was familiar. Asuriel watched as he paced back and forth a few times, running his hands through his black hair.
Then, it hit her. When she saw him from a certain angle, recognition hit her immediately.
"You're Jae!" she exclaimed.
Vaerion turned to look at her with an unamused frown. "I just told you, my name is Vaerion Sinclair."
"No, no," Asuriel shook her head vehemently. "When I was a kid… I used to draw a lot, and there was one man I sketched all the time. It was you, to the T. Same chiseled face and grumpy expression, same hair and eyes…"
"I'm not 'Jae'," he repeated. Although curious about her admission, he continued, "Whatever you did as a child is none of my concern. What is of my concern is that I'm stuck with you, and I need to get back to the meeting I was having before, when I was so rudely pulled through space against my will to some bartender's tiny apartment."
"I don't know what to tell you, Jae," Asuriel adorned a devious grin. "You can't go anywhere."
Vaerion was angry. "Don't call me that again, or I'll-"
"Or you'll what? Will you scowl at me again? Tell me I'm stinky?" Asuriel scoffed. "Vaerion sounds ostentatious, anyway. Jae is an upgrade, so that is what I will call you."
"This is a waste of time," he stated flatly. "If I can't leave you behind, you're coming with me."
Asuriel blinked. "Sorry, what? No, thanks. I can't leave my apartment until tomorrow, anyway."
"That's not my problem. You're the one who bound us together; it is entirely your fault," Vaerion said. "I'm simply… adapting."
"I'm naked," she added with a victorious smile. "You can't take me anywhere."
Vaerion looked her up and down, noting that she was wearing a matching red lingerie set, and shrugged his shoulders. "It'll be fine. You're wearing something sexy, so I can work with it. Just don't talk, and it'll be fine."
"At least let me-"
Her eyes widened as he stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. Vaerion muttered something under his breath, drew a small rune in the air, and then distorted the room around them. The pair disappeared together.
When they reappeared, they were in a fancy business building outside an office with an ornate plaque that said 'Vaerion Sinclair, CEO.' Vaerion opened the door without hesitation, still holding her by the wrist.
"-wear a shirt…" she finished awkwardly.
"Apologies for the interruption," Vaerion spoke confidently.
Her skin flushed as the eyes of three executives landed on her – and from the looks of it, they were equally as embarrassed. Asuriel glared at Vaerion; if looks could kill, the latter would be dead.
The youngest looked at Asuriel and Vaerion with wide eyes, and the other had a narrowed, judgmental gaze. The executive in the middle, who had an air of authority, cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"If you're busy, we can reschedule," he said.
Vaerion didn't let any emotion show; he looked at them like nothing was different. He took his suit jacket off and swiftly placed it over her shoulders as if he did this kind of thing all the time. The man put a firm hand on her waist and guided her to sit behind the desk in his chair.
He turned to look at the investors and, completely deadpan, said, "Continue. You were about to sign off on the deal; let's get it over with. I've got another meeting scheduled after this one."