Chapter Text
The room was too quiet.
It reminded Stolas of the barren hallways of his palace. The silence always let his thoughts run rampant. Even with company neither were willing to break the quiet. It felt more oppressive than being alone.
Stolas was perched on a plastic chair while Millie slumped in her hospital bed, unwilling to glance away from the door. It wasn’t too long ago now since Andra, the purple-red baphomet nurse who brought them here, left.
The past few hours have been hectic.
Millie’s wounds were cared for by Andra with a gentleness they hadn’t showcased in their cold questions earlier. They barely reacted when Millie threatened to turn them into ground up hog feed for suggesting heavy painkillers. The imp only relented when Stolas proposed a compromise – a half dosage of morphine – so she could get the relief she needed and still stay at attention. He was glad she accepted because even with the painkiller, her knuckles were white the whole time the nurse worked. Her dislocated shoulder was probed and set, her back cleaned and stitched, her burns cared for with a paste and gauze.
Then, against Stolas’s feeble protests about wasting their time, the nurse worked on Stolas next. His extremities were wrapped at the ends and he was given a cup of chilled water for his burnt throat. By tomorrow he would be healed, a benefit of being a Goetia. It would be like nothing ever happened even though Stolas was aware everything had changed.
During that time another nurse came in asking questions about Blitzø and Moxxie such as blood type and medical history. It was shameful to admit Stolas couldn’t answer any of it and the job fell on Millie’s shoulders. Just another thing he couldn’t do despite holding so much power in the tips of his fingers.
So far, there’s been no other news about the two whisked away earlier. It could be a good or bad sign. Stolas had no way of knowing they were ok, but no one came in to share that they were dead. Instead, Stolas was left in limbo, hanging onto hope but doubts making his hands slippery.
Andra left not much later, only showing up once more to provide Stolas with a blanket after commenting on his shaking, and promised to come by again soon.
Stolas and Millie were left in the silence they stewed in now. The clock ticked on and people occasionally walked by, but the door remained closed. Every tick of the sweep hand in the clock marked the passage of time.
Millie was like a guard dog, steadfast in her watch of the door no matter how tired she looked.
The cotton blanket was resting in Stolas’s lap. His bloodstained clothes were haphazardly changed with a swish of his hand. He kept thinking about everything but it didn’t feel like him. It was like he was replaying a painful scene from a movie again and again looking for small details that was lost the first time because he couldn’t comprehend.
Was there anything Stolas missed? Anything he could have done differently?
A flip was switched part way through his contemplation and he was hit with the overflowing feeling of living while Blitzø was currently fighting for his life. Watching Blitzø go through those double doors might really have been the last time he saw his precious imp. A world without Blitzø. The distant terror slammed into the glass, breaking free all at once and Stolas ending up weeping into his hands. His body shook as he broke down.
His company didn’t say anything and Stolas was grateful. As a prince, Stolas was expected to uphold his image but his ability to do so always disappeared when it was needed.
It took a while for the tears to stop. The pain in his heart only seemed to grow but his eyes wouldn’t water anymore as they gave out. A hollow ache spread through his chest, up his heavy throat, and settled in his head as a dull throb. Longing for before the fire was eating away at him. He wanted everything to be normal, not this dreadful nightmare. Just some hours ago (so little time) he was desperately trying to avoid the Asmodeus Crystal resting in his room with doubts swirling in his head.
He wanted to go back to that.
Stolas sent a lengthy text to Octavia after gathering himself informing her of the situation, asking her if she wanted to join him, and apologizing profusely for leaving her like he had. At the end, he promised to make it up to her later.
He was left on read.
Now Stolas fiddled with the cotton on his lap while he waited in the silence. He wanted to see Blitzø come storming through those doors with his usual co*cky smirk and provocative words. Like nothing ever happened.
But the door remained closed. It had been hours.
His entire life was spent waiting for something he couldn’t conceptualize, a life where he could be happy. Only recently had he realized he just wanted that special someone to come and sweep him off his feet, to be there for him. One step forward, three steps back. The life he wanted was just in reach of his talons only to be cruelly snatched away by the blaze.
What if Blitzø never woke up?
“Is your hands ok?”
The words broke Stolas out of his thoughts and he squawked, gasping for the breath his subconscious was starving him of. Millie was finally looking at him. In just a second the strand of silence unraveled and Stolas grabbed the threads of conversation tightly. “Sorry, I was lost in thought… What did you ask?”
Millie tilted her head. A white square covered her check and a black stained bandage wrapped around her head like a headband. “Don’t forget the way back Your Highness. Ain’t no good staying there all day.” Her hair bounced as she moved.
The conversation offered a reprieve from his thoughts. “Please, just call me Stolas. I would like to believe us beyond such formalities.” In the process, he didn’t want to be reminded of the weight of his title, not with his beloved’s employee slash friend.
The imp’s smile crooked like she found something he said funny. “Well, you are getting nasty in the sheets with mah boss. Sure thing Stolas,” she said.
“I suppose I am?” Stolas leaned back and crossed his legs. His talons tapped on the plastic as he chuckled nervously. It was complicated. He wanted it to be more.
“Anyways,” Millie straightened and her tail loosely curled around her leg. “I asked how your hands is – are.”
Stolas’s beak turned up at her fumbled words. “I admit that being burned is a new feeling but it hardly feels like much now.” It was nothing compared to an angelic blade sinking into his shoulder. “This conversation should be the other way around. You certainly got a worse deal than me.” And Blitzø and the other one were dealing with even worse. How much pain were they put through?
The tension bubbled in the following silence as Millie looked back at the door. Had Stolas said something wrong? He almost apologized again (anything to avoid the silence) before Millie spoke again. “Ah’ll heal eventually. Soon enough I’ll be back to hogtying assholes.”
Stolas fumbled in the silence again when Millie had no more to say. Now more than ever it was thick and oppressive. He was going to choke in it like the smoke. “Do you think they’ll be fine?” he blurted out, words jumbling together. Every mental tick in his head wound his stomach tighter.
The fabric bunched under Millie’s claws for a second before she turned around and flashed Stolas a wide grin. “Of course they will! In no time at all they’ll be back on their feet!”
“How can you be so sure?” Stolas questioned.
Millie twitched and her tail tightened around her leg. Suddenly Stolas was under an intense, burning gaze and he felt like an owlet again. “They’re mah family. Ah think I would know them quite well, and lemme tell you… They might be damn idiots, but they’re tough little motherf*ckers. That fire ain’t gonna take them out of the ring.” With a sudden movement, the sheet underneath her ripped and she panted heavily, squinting at the bed.
Stolas backpedaled quickly. “I did not – I hadn’t meant to… Suggest anything…”
“Ah know…” she said softly, subdued. She gripped her tail in her good hand and ran a thumb over the spade. Imp tails were quite expressive. Stolas thought it was simply a Blitzø thing but observing Millie now, maybe it was an imp thing.
"I understand,” Stolas said. He really hadn’t meant to sound accusatory. Of course she would know them better than Stolas ever could. He just wanted to hear more. He wanted to hear the assurance. “Today has been a lot.” Wait, wasn’t it tomorrow? Or, sh*t, the fire was yesterday and today was today. Yesterday was a lot. Damn, they really have been here hours.
“Oh, for sure. It was jus’ supposed to be a simple job. Get in, get out.”
“A job?” Stolas blinked in shock. “What job?”
It was Millie’s turn to stare at him in surprise. “You don’ know?”
“No, was I supposed to?”
“Of all the f*cking…” Millie looked at the ceiling with an exasperated expression. “Ah figured Blitzø would tell you. We were going after Striker.” Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “He’s going to f*cking PAY!”
Stolas stopped paying attention at Striker’s name. The imp that nearly killed him. The train tracks, the cave, the blessed knife. He could feel his chest tighten. “Striker?” Stolas said quietly and looked at his shoulder where the bandages still remained. Blitzø and Moxxie were injured because of that f*cking imp? All the fear Stolas harbored twisted into something dark. Bubbling rage built, rushing in heady waves through his veins. Going after Stolas was one thing, but to threaten his precious Via, to harm his beloved and his friends? Stolas was willing to let it all go, turn his ire to Stella and her arrogant brother, but now…
Oh, this won’t f*ckING stand.
“I believe…” Stolas started, ice in his words. “You should share the whole story.”
Millie broke out of her increasingly sad*stic promises and instantly caught the darkening shadows and the chill in the air that wasn’t from the hospital. “And ah will,” Millie promised before looking out the window. “But you ain’t the only one ah need to talk to.”
Wracking his head was hardly needed. The demons positively affiliated with Blitzø or I.M.P were very few and one key player had been missing from the equation.
Loona.
“Have you contacted Loona?” Stolas asked. He didn’t have her number but now he wished he demanded it from Blitzø.
Actually… Stolas faintly remembered asking Blitzø for her number and being shot down after he rolled his beautiful crimson eyes.
“Mah phone’s broken,” Millie whispered, her gaze distant. “Never got the chance.”
Oh. That meant there was no way to directly contact Loona and it wasn’t like Millie was in any condition to go around looking. The only other option was Stolas… Oh he was not a good choice for this, the poor thing barely knew him, he barely knew her (Blitzø’s ramblings were hard to comprehend).
But ultimately the responsibility, the blame, fell onto his shoulders. Striker should have been dealt with but Stolas hadn’t. He just wanted to forget.
To start making it right, Stolas could do something as simple as this. “Do you know where she would be? I can bring her here,” he offered.
“Ahm not sure,” Millie said after a second. She halted the slow petting of her tail. “Probably back at the apartment. If not then either the office or a party somewhere.”
Hmm. A party would be tricky, but he would figure it out if it came to that. “I will be back shortly.” Stolas wobbled when he stood up, dark spots interrupting his vision before slowly fading. It was too similar to the dizzying sensation in the burning building.
He hesitated on making the portal, glancing over to the door that remained closed. If something happened and Stolas wasn’t here…
Millie scratched around the bandage on her head, squeezing her eyes tightly. “Don’t you worry about a thing Stolas. Ah’ll keep watch and let you know if anythin’ happens when you come back.”
After breaking through his paralyzing thoughts, Stolas said, “Thank you little one,” He couldn’t make himself smile back. He tore a portal open before he could talk himself out of this.
He’d never stepped in Blitzø’s apartment before. The only time he saw part of it was when he helped Blitzø get home after one of their shared nights and he never forgot the location. If only the visit was in better circ*mstances.
Millie exhaled harshly, a wet sound Stolas chalked up to jarring a wound, and walked through.
…
Loona crossed her legs on the table and leaned back. Dresses of all styles scrolled by as she flicked her thumb up. A little bubble appeared at the top and she quickly tapped on it, shifting to type out a response to Tex about the party next weekend.
After sending an agreement to be picked up she went back to the catalogue of clothes. Why was it so hard to find the perfect combination of stunning and sexy? Whoever designed these things needed to be f*cking fired.
All the while Blitzø spoke, gesturing at the whiteboard. Periodically his claws would tap against the scribbled surface. Loona didn’t pay attention to the conversation, way to used to these meetings she wasn’t even needed for to care. The only unusual part was the lack of bitching from Moxxie and Millie’s silence.
It was welcoming compared to a typical day.
Tonight, they were going after Striker. Them as in the dumbass twins and Millie. Loona was staying back and got to relax while they went on this mission of revenge.
As a bonus maybe Blitzo would stop ranting about that cowboy’s dumbass face.
When they finally set out, Blitzø pulled her into an unexpected hug. He wrapped around her as far as he could go with a bunch of his usual nicknames spilling from his mouth. “No boys, or girls, over!” Blitzø said cheerfully before she peeled him off with a frustrated groan.
Loona set up a taxi to come by soon and opened Sinstagram as they left the office. Finally, some alone time.
“Love you Loonie!” Blitzø crooned from the doorway where he poked his head back in, smile way too wide to be normal.
Embarrassed and frustrated, Loona growled, “f*cking get out of here already. Go kick some ass.”
She didn’t look up to see his reaction and only heard his grumbly response, “lick some ass.”
The door closed with a click and Loona spent a minute looking at photos demons were posting before pausing and glancing out the window revealing the van pulling away from the building. “Don’t die you idiot,” she said to the empty room before shaking her head.
Some time passed. She grew bored and went back to dress surfing. By the time the taxi arrived she had narrowed the dresses down to three options. She stretched and yawning before strolling over to the ratty bag and hiding their ticket to the human world in it.
The imp driving the taxi grunted when she slammed the door closed and threw the bag to the other side. He peeled away from the curb before she could even grab the buckle and floored it. Lucifer’s wings, would it kill this bastard to clean up a little?
Loona followed an impulse and ended up on Blitzø’s contact with her fingers hovering and ready to type. Oh f*ck that, she wasn’t clingy. She turned to Tex and sent a meme over instead, grinning when he responded quickly.
The taxi screeched to a stop a road away from her apartment (Loona wasn’t going to reveal her address) and Loona had to grab the side to not go flying forward, fur bristling.
A red hand with white splotches thrusted back in a wordless gesture.
Loona dug angrily through her purse and pulled out a couple of souls. She slammed the money in the imp’s hand, grabbed the very important bag, and went to leave.
“That ain’t much of nothing mutt,” the imp hissed, turning around and throwing his best glare back. His horns were little nubs even Moxxie would laugh at and his overbite made him look like a country bloke trying to hard too look tough but would run back to his mama after the first punch. He even flexed his claws like they could ever compare to Loona’s.
Loona leered back, lips pulling back to reveal a row of long and sharp teeth capable of tearing through flesh. “You wanna go f*cker? Let’s f*cking go.”
Just as she expected the imp flinched and pulled his arm back with his eyes trained on her teeth.
Loona just chuckled, snatched the money she handed over, and kicked the taxi door right off its hinges before leaving the flabbergasted imp to deal with the damage.
The demons who saw her display kept their distance while those who didn’t were shown what happens when they got in Loona’s way. In her purse her phone buzzed and she pulled it out, glaring at a startled sinner who almost ran into her. It was a text from Blitzø that translated to ‘made it, gonna bring back a trophy.’ She chuckled at the thought of Striker’s head mounted on the wall and turned her phone off without replying.
Loona yanked the door to the apartment complex open and walked through the open area designed to look inviting.
The wallpaper in the hallways screamed ‘old and outdated’ and everything was rundown. She expertly avoided the moldy patch and climbed the stairs, skipping the second plank that creaked under pressure. The sound always resulted in a nasty imp slamming their door open and shrieking their woes to the poor sap that used the damn stairs. The imp never failed to show up, like, did they just sit by the door all day? They stopped confronting Loona directly after an incident, but instead that nasty bitch complained and Blitzø got a warning about being evicted. Loona wasn’t going to be the reason they got kicked out of their home so now she just skipped the step entirely.
Loona reached the right floor and walked down until she reached her door, unlocked it, and slammed the door closed. Best not to give the assholes any ideas.
She flicked the light on and dropped the bag on the table before trudging farther in. It was nice to be back home despite all its flaws. For Imp City the apartment was nice.
Working the stove didn’t sound appealing so Loona went on and ordered WackDonalds to be delivered and settled on the couch to watch TV. The cushion dipped under her weight, the springs digging in, the fabric once soft now scratchy, but it was hers and Blitzøs. She left the blanket on the head of the couch.
Later, after getting her burger and fries, Loona checked the time. Over two hours since they left and no new text messages from them.
f*cking hell, Blitzø probably destroyed his phone again.
Was it supposed to be taking this long?
Loona focused back on the TV and didn’t think about Blitzø’s last encounter with the bastard he refused to elaborate on. She didn’t think about the ring of bruises on his wrists and the ones that showed when his shirt rode up. She didn’t think about the smell of blood from hidden gashes he waved off.
The three of them, even Moxxie of all imps, knew how to fight. If anything, Blitzø roped them into some dumb celebratory bullsh*t of his.
Something shuffled by the door and Loona pricked her ears for the tell tale struggle of keys that never failed to occur, but Blitzø didn’t come barging through the door.
The TV played on and Loona heard the bell as the two hellhounds in the ring rushed at each other. Oh, now it was getting good. She was betting on the lithe yet toned underdog getting the upper hand.
They looked like dancers as they swerved and dodged and punched and kicked. “f*ck yeah!” Loona said when the underdog ducked under a punch and sprung upwards, taking the bulky one by surprise.
The match ended with the underdog throwing their hands up in celebration as the bigger one sprawled on the ground.
Loona’s hand found her phone and she glanced over when it lit up. Her chest tightened as she looked for new messages and found nothing before realizing what she was doing and yanked her hand away.
The next couple rounds Loona found herself in the same loop. She would get invested in the fight and then, right as she forgot the world around her, would find herself glancing back at her phone like a clingy bastard who hung on every word from their friend like a bag of cocaine. Like someone dependent on another.
f*ck that.
Loona turned up the TV’s volume and stomped to her room. To the side was her desk with a mirror and makeup that Blitzø got her without demanding anything in return.
The world tilted as she dropped on her bed and bounced a couple times. Time to figure out the perfect dress out of the three she narrowed it down to.
Before she knew it midnight was approaching and her phone dinged with another message.
Loona clicked it fast and pushed back the sudden disappointment when she realized it was Octavia.
Octavia was nice although they’ve only interacted a couple times in person. Their texts were also sparce but the two of them found a comfort in ranting about their parents to each other. That left room for them to share little details about their life and somehow, the two of them found many shared interests.
They weren’t friends, but they weren’t not friends.
Loona skimmed the large paragraph. Something about her father bailing and then a hospital was mentioned, but Loona clicked away before she could read farther. She just… didn’t want to hear about fathers right now.
After that time moved like an elderly demon crossing the road and Loona wanted to yank out her fur in frustration.
She should text Blitzø. It was well into the morning now and there was radio silence.
Right as she admitted defeat and pulled up his contact a strange buzzing filled her ears, high-pitched and almost painful. Something tingly and sharp invaded her sense of smell.
It was exactly like the portals she opened with that fancy ass book.
f*ck. f*ck!
Loona scrambled off the bed, curses escaping her maw. She grabbed the baseball bat Blitzø stored in her room – despite her protests – and slammed her door open. She tumbled out the door and raised the bat, teeth bared. “Alright motherf*cker! Get –.” The words died in her throat.
Standing in front of her, slightly hunched, was Stolas himself. The owl demon’s eyes were trained on the wall full of photos. One of his hands was hovering over the black scribbles on the largest photo.
The second Loona yelled Stolas jerked his hand away and his head shot towards her with his body following a second later. “So you are here! Hello dear.”
“f*cking… Prince Stolas?” Loona lowered the baseball bat but kept a firm grip. Of course she was here, who did he think he was?
The bird’s eyes widened and he hooted as his hands shot out. “Oh I must have startled you! That wasn’t my intention.”
“Don’t you knock?!” Loona looked at the still closed door behind the owl and the untouched bag and figured he must have used his fancy magic sh*t to get here.
Stolas at least had the decently to look sheepish as he clasped his bandaged hands together. “Forgive me, tonight has been a lot and I forgot my manners. It won’t happen again.” He paired it with a miniature bow that was way too showy for Loona who also wasn’t going to say anything about it.
Loona didn’t know much about Stolas but from what she did know, she wasn’t gonna trust his little show. “Whatever. Why the hell are you here?”
The four scarlet eyes dimmed as the Goetia stared hard at nothing at all. He blinked hard before he just deflated and slumped farther and went straight to the point. “I’m here to take you to the hospital.”
Was that some kind of code word or some sh*t? “f*cks that mean?!” Loona snarled and watched as he took a step back and rubbed his throat briefly.
“The situation is quite complicated but Millie is waiting for you there. I am simply here to transport you over.”
Loona mulled over the words. Millie at the hospital? Damnit, why didn’t she read Octavia’s text? The hospital was f*cking mentioned and she hadn’t even cared? There wasn’t any signs of manipulation and Loona wouldn’t bet on Octavia playing a part if it was.
Millie was at the hospital. Did that mean…?
“Where the f*cks my dad?!” Loona gave up all caution as she dropped the bat and stomped forward. She stared up at Stolas who fidgeted with his shirt. His head drifted through the apartment nervously, little white dots broadcasting everything. He must have seen the cluttered kitchen, the ratty couch with the horse blanket on it, the old TV.
“There’s been an incident.” He held out a hand for her to take after focusing back on her. “Millie could explain much better than I could.”
Loona knocked it away, pressure building in her chest as blood rushed through her ears. “What kind of incident?! f*ck if he’s dead-“
“No!” Stolas flailed for a second and struggled to get actual words out. “No, Lucifer no.” But there was a shaky edge to his words that couldn’t be trusted. “Both Blitzø and Moxxie are alive.”
Now Moxxie was part of this sh*t? All three of them?
The pressure was relentless and Loona focused on anything but that. “Damnit, just, let me get my phone.” If getting information from him was like pulling teeth then she needed to talk to someone else. Loona rushed back into her bedroom and swiped her forgotten phone on the bed. Once more she could feel the portal forming and Loona eyed it as she walked back out.
The owl seemed exhausted and too miserable for this to be some horrible joke.
Loona glimpsed part of the horse blanket on the couch and when she turned away the horse pattern was burned in her eyes.
Stolas gestured for her to go first but she stared hard at him until he took the hint and went in first. The scene through the portal might look like the hospital but she wasn’t taking any chances.
They walked through into a room full of soft pinks and purples while the sterile hospital smell nearly knocked her off her feet.
f*ck, last time she was here she got her hellbies shot. It had been a completely different feeling than this but both sucked ass.
“Loona!”
The edge of desperation in the words cut through Loona’s sluggish thoughts and she focused on Millie who was struggling to sit up on her little hospital bed. She looked horrible, bandages wrapped around half her body and clearly under the influence of something judging by her dilated eyes. Not even the disinfectant could hide the smell of fresh blood. She was fidgeting with her tail, a sign of distress.
The hellhound bounded forward on instinct and grunted when Millie grabbed her shirt and pulled her into a hug. On instinct she almost pulled away but when Millie started shaking, Loona endured through the torture of waiting for answers a little longer.
“What happened?” Loona instantly demanded once Millie let go. “Where are they? Why the hell aren’t we with them?”
Stolas slunk off to the side and dropped into a plastic chair. He pulled up a leg and wrapped himself around it.
“Oh sweetie,” Millie started off gently, exhaustion making her words slur. “Imma be honest with you, we don’t have no news on them.”
“What?!” Loona said and eyed the door, already planning on finding a nurse and demanding answers from them.
A clawed hand grabbed her arm and kept her in place as Millie shot her a knowing look. “They’re in surgery hun. But don’t you worry bout a thing, we both know how tough they can be. We’ll see them soon enough.”
Loona took in the information, well aware of the four red eyes watching her from the side, and swallowed back the urge to react. Her own eyes burned but she didn’t let it go beyond that. “How bad is it?” Loona asked quietly.
“They were caught in an explosion and got pretty beat up,” Millie didn’t let go of her arm and Loona wasn’t going to fight it. Millie needed it (and so did she). “Everything’ll be ok.”
Loona didn’t trust a single employee in this f*cking hospital to treat them to the best of their ability. She’d seen enough in the past to know they couldn’t care less if an imp or hellhound lived or not. “What do you mean beat up? Stop dancing around the question and give me a damn answer!”
“Regrettably,” Stolas spoke up, “neither Millie nor I focused on their injuries. They were unconscious when we found them. We rushed straight here.” He rubbed his face and reached for the glass of water on the stand beside him.
The helpless feeling was back along with the bitter lining of guilt. sh*t, she’d been watching TV and laying in bed while Blitzø and Moxxie were even worse off than Millie? Damnit, why didn’t she push to join them?
“They were badly burned,” Millie added with a frown, grip on Loona’s arm tightening briefly. “Other sh*t as well, but it was hard ta see through… Everything.”
Which meant all the reassurances were empty words. The two of them were clueless. A small whine escaped and her ears folded back in embarrassment.
Neither Stolas nor Millie said anything, though Millie’s face scrunched in sympathy and Stolas seemed to shrink farther into himself.
“If you want a seat,” Stolas gestured to the second chair in the room and Loona dismissed it with a huff.
“So you know nothing?” Loona kept prying.
“They were breathing, that ah can promise you.” Then Millie glanced at Stolas. “And one of em managed ta call Stolas over there.”
Loona turned to Stolas who placed the cup of water down gently. She just noticed he wasn’t in any royal garb but a simple red shirt with a darker collar and a long dip at the neck which revealed rustled feathers. He was in black shorts – somehow on backwards – with a white edge around the bottom. It was the look of someone who didn’t care what the hell they had on.
Ugh, fine, maybe she’d let up on the glares but looking pathetic didn’t win a free pass.
She was more focused on what Stolas had to say anyways.
“Ah, yes,” Stolas said. “Blitzø called me and started yelling. Something…” he swallowed, “Something happened. He dropped the phone and said a couple things before going silent.”
Millie winced ever so slightly and asked, “Did ya hear Moxxie at all?”
Stolas looked at her sympathetically. “No, I’m sorry.”
Loona exhaled sharply and tried to keep from breathing the fumes in too deeply. “Alright. Fine. Can one of you just… Just explain the whole story? Was this f*cking Striker?” If it was, Loona was going to hunt that bastard herself. It was so much easier to get lost in the anger. Anything was easier than focusing on what she could lose.
“Should ah start with the car ride or after we got there?” Millie smirked at Loona who groaned in annoyance.
“Oh f*ck off, I don’t want to hear about the sh*t you all talk about.” If Millie was joking about it then of course it had to be one of those conversations. When Blitzø wasn’t being antagonistic, which wasn’t often, the utter sh*t he talked about sometimes... She still wondered how Blitzø wasn’t ever admitted to a mental hospital. And even more of a surprise, the M&M's can and do get invested, even adding to the chaos Blitzø created with his words.
Stolas was clearly lost and that just made it even funnier.
But Loona needed answers and unfortunately, only reality could provide them. Her small grin faded and she untangled herself from Millie, grabbed the empty chair, and brought it over to the bed so Millie could grab her while she sat down. Call it a gut feeling but she would have to sit for this.
It was time to hear the story. Millie couldn't deflect any longer and she knew it to judging by her weary sigh and shuffling for a better position. Still so tired but too stubborn to admit defeat, Millie opened her mouth.
