“Exactly. Let them be adults for one night. Come out with me, have a few drinks, and get absolutely fucked into oblivion so you can relax for once.”
Rosalind shoved them off with an offended gasp, undermined by her own laughter as Mozke cackled and returned to the closet.
And while they put her in half a dozen different outfits, Rose really tried. She tried to remember when she’d last taken a full breath, even before falling into Heck. Tried to recall a date or even a night that wasn’t just her waiting for everything to be over so she could go back to the list she’dbeen crafting in her head between bland conversation and sweaty thrusts.
By the time she was staring at herself in the mirror, unrecognizable from her usual blouse and cream pants, she had almost convinced herself that this reallycouldbe fun. She could forget her worries and care a little bit less about what others wanted her to be.
“What does Rosalind want to be?” she whispered to her reflection, twisting in the demonlight to see the reflective patterns of her sheer top. Pink and blue shimmered along the gauzy material, disguising her bony shoulders and the flat color of her skin. And the leather shorts that cut off at the tops of her thighs did make her look taller, even if her legs didn’t completely fill out the wide garment meant to accommodate a tail she didn’t have.
Maybe she could be this human, at least for the night. The one who went to taverns and had a drink with a friend, not the human who’d had a panic attack in the hall closet at work twice that day. She could pretend that all of this was normal—a human in the demon world, accepted, and maybe a little bit interested in something physical to keep her mind away from worrying over every little thing out of her control. She could fill the hollow pit in her chest that ran deeper than the stress dips in her collarbone.
Rosalind pressed a hand over her heart, trying to steady it. She wasn’t lonely. She didn’t havetimeto feel alone. But wouldn’t it be nice to relax for once and forget? Was she evencapable of it?
Mozke met her at the door, sans shirt but with leather pants and a sleeveless, robe-looking fabric. Silver glinted in a few more places across their pointed ears to match the piercing in their brow and the many through their horns.
“Do I finally get to meet your partner?” Rosalind asked, arm through theirs as they walked the starlit street.
They bumped her with their hip. “She’s the first performance tonight.”
Rose beamed. “You must be so proud.”
“Unless she utterly humiliates herself, and then I don’t know them.”
Rosalind appreciated the tease and the casual way Mozke had essentially adopted her into their already comfortable life, like it wasn’t a burden to keep a human in their guest bed chamber and feed her constantly. But it was a piece of normalcy that had been the only thing keeping Rose afloat since arrival. It was the only thing keeping her mind from the abyss creeping along beside her like the only real monster she had ever feared in her life.
Out of nowhere, Mozke threw a hand over her eyes. “Are you ready?”
“No.”
“Wrong answer.”
“Maybe?”
“Close enough.” With a flourish, they removed their hand and gestured to the street they’d turned onto. “Welcome to the art district.”
Rosalind gaped as she took in the sight. Mozke hadprepared her for it, but there were no descriptions that could accurately explain how beautiful the street was.
Lanterns on metal poles flickered with rainbow flames, decorating the cobblestone walkway with flashing colors. Tables scattered the open area, demons lounged on chairs and across benches, tails of every shape flicking casually behind them. Smiles and laughter echoed against the stone walls of stores, muffled slightly by creeping vines and dark flowers that opened toward the starlight.
“Wow,” Rose breathed, head tipping back so she could see everything there was. She smiled at a trio of demons who walked by, their returning nods kind and lacking any sort of judgement or hidden distaste. No one laughed at her when she tripped over a loose stone in the walkway, nor did they snap at her when she bumped into them as she turned to take it all in.
But the longer she looked, the more she noticed.
The stone from earlier wasn’t the only tripping hazard. The fountain in the middle of the square was barren and cracked. There were several abandoned buildings, including one that looked to have held an old greenhouse.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said, leaning over the fountain like she might find a rune to turn it on herself. “Why is it in such disrepair?”
Mozke lingered a step away, shoulders hanging. “Funding caught up in the paperwork that is our political system. Argeth being strong-armed into providing shrubberies to the Houses to keep his seat.” They toed a brokenbrick on the fountain façade. “The building owners pitch in, as does the community, but there are certain things we just can’t maintain ourselves.”
“That’s ridiculous. This is in the heart of Heck. It shouldbethe heart of Heck. Arts are pivotal for a culture.”
They smiled, but sadness tugged at the edges. “You’re a good one, Rose. And maybe one day, we’ll be the change around here. But without a proper budget, which would require moving funding away from something the funders deem more important, we keep it alive in other ways.”
Disappointment hung heavy in Rosalind’s chest as she turned back to the empty fountain, but there was also a buzzing.
“Oh, no,” Mozke muttered. “I know that look.”
Rosalind chewed her lower lip, trying to make her face into something more neutral.
