(A/N: So the reason I haven't uploaded anything is because I just finished the school work (20%) and started playing gacha game (80%)
I come back with another peak, trust.)
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The room was quickly arranged, leaving only the two steeped in this stillness apart from the bustling night outside. The paper lanterns flickered faintly, casting a golden glow over the mats. The crisp scent of the night breeze slipped through the slightly open door.
Somewhere outside, the distant murmur of the Zenin estate continued as if nothing unusual had happened today, even though a whole squad had been slaughtered.
Veilhem lounged on the couch, both arms draped lazily on his stomach, trying not to think too much about this whole ordeal. His eyes closed as he sank into this comfortable sensation, not that he was feeling anything since he hadn't taken his armor off.
There was much to experience in this world, but at least, it was something new outside of the cycle of fire he had gotten himself used to. It was quite a new change, but it was certainly not unwelcome.
The soft patter of light footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see Makima approaching, dressed in a loose white shirt and hot pants. It was a quiet contrast to the usual vibe she usually gave off.
Without saying a word, she plopped herself with practiced ease, settling onto the couch and resting her head gently on his lap. The motion was natural, graceful even, but there was something deceitful beneath that made him feel as if she had practiced this countless times before.
Though Veilhem said nothing, simply letting her do whatever it was she intended. He moved his hands aside to avoid them being pinned beneath her.
Her weight against him was barely noticeable; it was almost as if she weren't there at all.
"…That comfortable?" He asked finally, casting a glance down at her.
Makima's eyes remained fixed on him, her expression unreadable as always. "Not really. Your leggings are too hard to make a good pillow."
"Then why would you even do that in the first place?" Veilhem sighed softly, adjusting his position to make her feel more comfortable.
"Because I like it?" Makima said with a wink.
Veilhem didn't laugh, but he didn't protest either. Maybe he was getting used to her, enough to let her lead their conversation as she always did.
Instinctively, his fingers weaved through the strands of her hair before coming to rest atop her head.
"Better now?" He ignored her flirting tone, letting himself indulge in the silky sensation of her hair.
"Ummh." Makima let out a soft sound as he patted her head, quietly observing him to grasp the humanity behind his simple touch. It was a strange, hard-to-place feeling, but it was a peculiar thing that she wanted even more.
To her, all of this was but research.
To him, she just looked like a cat seeking attention.
Veilhem smirked beneath his helm, letting his fingers linger in her hair for a moment longer before resuming his rhythmic pats.
It was just a simple gesture, yet it carried a warmth Makima rarely encountered. A warmth that didn't stem from fear, coercion, or control.
Was it strange for her to yearn to be accepted as what she was, a Devil, without needing to exert her power?
Makima's gaze remained locked on him, unwavering, measuring. Most would have felt unsettled under such scrutiny and an eerie vibe. But Veilhem? The only thing that bothered him was how his other hand, resting on her waist, had become a body pillow for her to cling to.
"You're staring too hard there." He pointed out while trying to pull his arm free.
"Indeed, I am." She admitted it without blinking as she held his arm in place, refusing to let him go.
Feeling helpless for his arm, he went with the flow and gave up trying to break free.
"Expecting something?" He sighed.
Makima didn't answer right away. Instead, she blinked slowly as if considering the question before dismissing it entirely.
Then, in the same flat tone, she posed a question of her own. "Do you feel it was wrong with the way I'm doing?"
Veilhem responded with the same unamused tone as hers. "No."
Silence settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The flickering light cast shifting shadows across the room, tracing over Makima's face as she lay there, her golden eyes still fixed on him, studying.
"Why?" Her voice was soft, yet it carried her curiosity, albeit mildly.
"Why what? Be more specific." He chuckled, his fingers still idly twirling her red locks.
"According to human society, you should have felt disgusted after seeing my… ways of doing things. I haven't met anyone comfortable with the fact that I could control their life the moment I want it, so I hide it." Makima's voice was serene, almost thoughtful.
She recalled past encounters—civilians caught in the crossfire of Devil and Devil Hunter battles, their screams echoing, eyes wide with fear, always crying out for help. Even when they had killed the Devil, they were still afraid of her.
She continued, her golden eyes never left him. "And yet even when you witness all of that, you act as if it were nothing more than a small hurdle. So what is the reason?"
Veilhem didn't even bat an eye, even though this wasn't aligned with his moral compass, but the lack of reaction bothered her in many ways she couldn't explain in words.
The knight smirked, amused by the inquiry, but his response came with effortless ease. "A purposeless man does not need to question those who reach out for him."
It was an answer so ordinary and boring that it didn't quite settle well with her. Though she let it pass. If he didn't want to answer, then so be it.
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Suddenly, Makima pushed herself up from his lap. But this time, instead of sitting like a normal human would do, she pushed him down further to the couch and straddled him between her thighs, locking him up in this intimate position.
She curled her arms around his neck, fingers resting lightly against the back of his helm as she pulled herself closer.
"Hold me." Makima said.
The warmth of her body pressed lightly against the cold steel, making her presence inescapable as their gaze met each other.
The space between them disappeared, yet both of their expressions remained untouched by the intimacy of the moment.
Veilhem tilted his head back, entirely unfazed by her sudden shift. His hands moved instinctively, settling at her waist as he adjusted her comfortably atop him.
"You're getting bold." His voice was low, laced with amusement, as if nothing about this was unexpected.
"Do you like it?" Makima said as she tilted her head cutely.
Veilhem hummed in response but offered no definite answer.
Then, without hesitation, she reached up and lifted his helmet. Metal scraped softly as she pushed it away, revealing the man beneath the crude armor.
His face was worn, etched with quiet exhaustion, framed by ashen-grey hair that fell messily around his sharp features along with a rough, unkempt beard.
Veilhem wasn't what most would call striking, nor was he unpleasant to look at. But none of that mattered to her because Makima was never one to remember people by their faces anyway.
She simply continued to stare at him, as if measuring his reactions, dissecting his every movement. Then, she finally spoke.
"Do you love me?"
The question hung in the air, spoken with the same detachment she used for anything else. There was no hesitation in her flat tone, just a simple inquiry, as if she were asking about the weather.
Veilhem's response was just as blunt.
"No."
A single word of rejection.
She regarded him for a moment, her expression never shifting, yet something about her silence felt contemplative. As though she was analyzing his answer, weighing the depth of that single word, whether it was true or false.
Then, she leaned in. The movement was fluid, her supple lips brushed against his in a fleeting, feather-light kiss.
The warmth of her breath ghosted against his skin as she pulled back just slightly, close enough that he could still feel her presence linger.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
Veilhem remained still, his breath steady, his hands still holding her waist. His expression didn't falter, but the sharp glint in his eyes revealed that he had noticed what she was trying to say.
There was no spoken question from her, yet the message was clear.
What about now?
Veilhem smirked and pulled her waist closer. A lazy chuckle escaped his mouth, but it didn't hide the curled-up corner of his mouth. "Didn't think you were the type to try and change a 'no' into a 'yes.'"
"Don't get distracted and answer the question." Makima remained perched on Veilhem's lap, her back straight, her mesmerizing eyes locked onto his with an unwavering intensity. She licked her sultry lips as if savoring the remnants of their kiss.
Then, he spoke, his voice calm, unwavering.
"But the answer is still no."
"That's unfortunate, then." She blinked—there was no flicker of disappointment in her expression.
Then, with that signature eerie grace, she tilted her head ever so slightly, studying him like a puzzle she intended to solve.
She wasn't deterred by his response at the very least. No, she was merely considering a more effective way to make him fall for her.
Veilhem watched her, amused, his smirk deepening as he sank back into the couch with an air of casual defiance. He started to know her well enough to recognize that she was picking apart his response, analyzing and preparing the countermeasure for it.
"What, expecting a different answer?" He asked, his fingers lazily tracing idle patterns against the fabric of her sleeve.
Makima remained silent for a second, then finally replied in her usual, matter-of-fact tone. "Does it matter? Because in the end, I never lose the leash on what is mine."
And just like that, she leaned back, as if nothing had happened at all. But before she could get off completely, Veilhem's hand caught her jaw, his thumb traced along her jawline.
"Mm~"
As he tilted her face upward, a soft and breathy sound escaped her lips. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of surprise that flashed through her eyes. It was subtle, but Veilhem managed to catch it.
Makima's hands rose to clasp his forearm. Her amber gaze flicked down to where his hand touched her, then slowly returned to meet his eyes, trying to figure out this human puzzle before her.
This time, he didn't just hold her in place—he pulled her forward. The motion was swift and effortless, leaving her no room to withdraw.
Her balance tipped, letting herself be drawn into him. Her knees settled on either side of his thighs, straddling him once more. But now, the dynamic had shifted.
Veilhem's fingers traced a slow path up her spine, pressing lightly through the fabric of her coat before settling at the back of her neck.
He chuckled, his voice dropping lower, a teasing lilt threading through his words. "Then, shall we test and see who will be the one holding the leash?"
Makima realized that she was no longer the one in control, but it was too late now.
She closed her eyes as their lips met once more, but this time, the rhythm had shifted. Veilhem no longer let her dictate the pace. He deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate, unraveling her body piece by piece with nothing but his touch.
His movements were measured, almost teasing, as if savoring every second. Makima's breath remained steady at first, but the moment his hands traced from her thighs up to her hip, her body shivered at his gentle motion. Her fingers gripped his cloak instinctively to hide her embarrassment.
It was just a fleeting reaction, a small one but a reaction nonetheless.
Seconds stretched between them as their tongues intertwined, tasting and exploring each other's deepest parts, until finally, they parted.
A thin strand of saliva lingered between them, catching the light before breaking, leaving Makima slightly disheveled, her eyes unfocused, a single strand of hair clinging to the corner of her mouth.
Veilhem brushed his thumb gently across her lips, then pulled back just enough to speak.
"See?" His voice was low, teasing, his breath warm against her lips. "If you're going to play, at least commit to it."
Makima's eyes fluttered for a second before narrowing in a glare, a rare crack in her usual composure. A quiet, unsteady breath slipped past her lips as she snuggled up to his calloused palm.
She still perched on his lap, her usual air of indifference was nowhere to be found, but still, she spoke with a flat tone that wasn't very much different from usual.
"You're different from the others."
Her voice was soft, but the weight of her words lingered between them, hanging in the quiet like an unspoken challenge.
Veilhem chuckled, slouching on the couch once more. "Thanks?"
Makima tilted her head slightly, her fingers adjusting the folds of his cloak as if lost in thought. "Most would have fallen for me by now."
"Can't blame them. It's ordinary to love something beautiful." He could feel she rolled her eyes when he shamelessly said that, but the mirth in her smile said it all.
Makima shifted, adjusting herself in his embrace with quiet ease, pressing closer rather than pulling away. Then, she leaned in, resting her head against his shoulder.
"Smooth bastard." She muttered in his ears, trying to appear casual, though her voice wasn't exactly convincing.
Veilhem nodded and pushed down the helmet once more. "I know… But can you get off me now?"
Makima tilted her head slightly as if weighing the option. Then, she buried her nostrils in his neck—her breath warm brushed against the skin of his neck through the gap in the armor.
"No, I don't think so. Think of it as a payback." She replied, her tone as flat as ever.
"Sure enough." He rolled his eyes, sighing softly as his fingers resumed their slow, absentminded strokes along her back. The effect was immediate.
A soft, satisfied sigh escaped her lips, almost involuntarily. Her eyes fluttered shut as she melted at his hard yet warm embrace, humming faintly in approval.
His hands were rough, calloused, yet gentle in their movements, tracing over her skin beneath the thin fabric with an ease that felt natural.
Makima pressed closer, inhaling his scent that carried a subtle and almost imperceptible smell. Even with her sharp nose, it was something that could easily be overlooked if she weren't paying attention.
But now, with the warmth of him surrounding her, it filled her nostrils with the uniqueness of his.
She inhaled deeply, letting it settle within her, feeling an unfamiliar kind of intoxication creeping through her veins.
Her body melted ever so slightly against him, her breath steady, her presence warm. Each slow pass of his fingers seemed to coax her deeper into that state, like a feline enjoying the pleasure of being pampered.
A question popped into his mind.
'Is she secretly a Cat Devil and not a Control Devil?'
Though Veilhem found little to complain about in this odd interaction. How long had it been since he'd last felt this at ease around someone? The answer eluded him.
His memories were a tangled mess, frayed and broken–a consequence of losing pieces of his humanity with every death.
His gaze softened slightly as he exhaled, letting himself sink into the quiet moment. Hugging her tighter, he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the flowery scent that clung to her. And for once, he found himself enjoying it.
In the dim night, the eccentric pair remained there, entangled in a quiet moment neither felt the need to break away. The world outside ceased to exist between them, leaving only the steady rhythm of their breaths and the warmth they shared in that fleeting moment.
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(A/N: It's slice of life time baby.)