London tonight is complete trash. Zavier is standing under a flickering streetlight, feeling the rain seep right through his black leather jacket. For a creature who literally takes baths in the eternal hellfire of the Erebos Dimension, this London cold should be nothing. But still, this whole human city vibe makes him want to haul ass back to his palace right now and burn a rebellious soul or two just for kicks before bed.
"Why the hell did I agree to Lucius's stupid challenge to 'survey' the human world," Zavier grumbles, his voice low and heavy, packing a primal vibration that makes a stray cat nearby bolt like it just heard the Grim Reaper calling its name.
He's just about to snap his fingers to rip open the dimension portal and head home—screw the bet—when his sharp ears catch the sound of rushed footsteps. The sound of cheap flat shoes hitting a puddle hard.
Zavier turns slowly. From the dark end of the alley, a girl appears. Her whole vibe is a damn wreck. She's hugging a box so big her face is mostly hidden. She's wearing a flimsy, tore-up plastic poncho, and her brown hair is plastered to her face.
"C'mon, Elena... just a bit more. Don't pass out on me now, please. HP installment is due tomorrow," she mutters to herself.
Zavier stands still. He's just watching from the shadows. To him, humans are the weakest and weirdest creatures. Why do they work this hard just to survive a life that's over in a blink?
But as the girl—Elena—passes right in front of him, her luck completely runs out. The bottom of the box gives way because it's totally soaked through.
Old books scatter all over the muddy asphalt. Some fly into dirty puddles, some covers tear instantly.
"Shit! Are you kidding me?!" Elena screams, her voice high and sharp, making Zavier's ears ring.
Elena immediately drops to her knees. She's panicking, hard. "Oh my god, this is Mr. Mustache's order! If they're ruined, he'll make me pay a hundred bucks, and where the hell am I gonna get that kind of money..." She starts grabbing the books with trembling hands.
Zavier should go. He has the power to just vanish. But as Elena looks up to wipe the rain from her eyes, they lock.
Zavier feels something screw up in his chest. It's not a heart attack—he doesn't have a normal heart—it's like a wire just short-circuited inside.
Elena's eyes are just regular brown, no gold, no lightning magic. But those eyes are... alive. There's fear, exhaustion, but also a binar of stubbornness that Zavier has never seen in Erebos. There, everyone's eyes are dead, or if not, they're full of ambition.
And the smell... a cheap vanilla scent mixed with old paper smell just hits Zavier's nose. Way better than the sulfur smell in his palace.
"Uh... s-sorry, dude," Elena suddenly speaks. Her voice is shaking slightly from the cold. "Can you gimme a hand here? Hold this for a sec..."
She's offering him a folding umbrella with spokes that are already half-broken.
Zavier is stunned. Is... is she ordering me around?
"Dude? You still with me?" Elena is waving her hand in front of Zavier's face. "Look, sorry if I'm being rude. I'm just drowning here, I've only got two hands."
Zavier takes a long breath. Whatever demon possessed him—eh, he is the demon king—he actually kneels down next to Elena. His hand, cold and pale, touches one of the soaked books.
As their skin accidentally brushes, Zavier feels a 220-volt electric shock. The shadows on the alley wall sempat move wildly, like they want to leap at Elena, but Zavier immediately crushes his power back down.
"I'll help," Zavier says shortly. He made his voice as low as possible, though it still sounded like a ruler giving an order.
Elena smiles. A wide, genuine smile. It's so damn sweet it feels like she just injected sunlight straight into Zavier's dark chest.
"Wow, thanks a lot! You're a total lifesaver!" Elena is hyped up again. "I'm Elena. I live in that old apartment down the way, the one where the elevator always breaks."
Zavier is quiet while picking up the books. He's crazy strong, he can pick up five thick books at once with just two fingers.
"You... new around here?" Elena asks, trying to break the silence. "Your face looks kinda familiar, like an action movie actor but... what do you call it, like, a scarier version?"
Zavier holds back a laugh. "I'm Zavier. A photographer."
"Oh wow, a photographer! Explains the style, it's sick. Is that jacket real? Looks insanely expensive, shame it's getting ruined in the rain," Elena rambles nonstop.
Zavier is confused. Does this girl just not feel fear? She's alone in a dark alley with a guy who looks like a damn hitman.
"Whatever," Zavier says, acting cool.
After all the books are scooped up, Elena stands up and wipes the dirt off her pants. She's shivering hard, her lips are already turning a little blue.
"Zav... since you totally saved me from a hundred-dollar ganti rugi disaster, you wanna drop by my place for a sec? It's close. I can hook you up with some kopi sachet or hot tea to pay you back. It's getting worse out here," tawar Elena, pointing to an old building with dim lights.
Zavier looks at the watch on his wrist—a watch that doesn't actually run because he doesn't need time. He should go back. Lucius is definitely laughing at him by now.
But as he sees Elena shivering but still trying to be nice, something pulls at him. Something that says he shouldn't let this girl go right now.
"Okay," Zavier says shortly.
He immediately grabs the remaining box from Elena's hands. He lifts it like it's an empty box of crackers, though it probably weighs over 20 pounds.
"Hey, I can carry it myself actually..."
"Shut up. Where are we going?" Zavier cuts her off firmly.
Elena just stands there stunned as Zavier starts walking ahead with a relaxed but insanely dominant stride. She hurriedly catches up to him, trying to hold the umbrella over Zavier (though it was mostly shading the wind because it was too small).
Zavier doesn't know that tonight is the start of his reputation as the cruel Shadow King going to hell. He doesn't know that for this vanilla girl, he'll later be ready to burn down a whole world just to make sure Elena can keep smiling that cheap, receh smile.
"Zav, slow down! It's slippery as hell!" Elena screams from behind.
Zavier doesn't answer, but he slightly slows his pace. Secretly, he feels like London tonight... isn't that much of a trash heap after all.
'From this second on, this girl is mine. And I don't care if it's a human or a damn demon—anybody who dares to lay a finger on her... I'll make sure they beg for the sweet relief of death.'