Dxd: A demon Among Devils

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His hand pressed firmly against her stomach prevented her from completing the act. She stepped back, not understanding, and judging from the look on her face, more than a little hurt.

"If you do that," he said softly, "you will leave me with some very difficult memories."

Realization dawned in her eyes, as did regret.

"I am sorry, Arisato-san," she murmured.

The air between them became thick with tension.

He sighed. He had not meant to make things awkward. He relaxed, his posture welcoming, and she took that sign to close in again. This time, she did not try to kiss him, and instead pressed her forehead against his shoulder.

"Thank you," she whispered and drew back.

He nodded, stiffly but not coldly, and followed the others out the door.

When he arrived home to his apartment at night, it was to find half his dishes and cups broken in the sink. Pieces of shattered porcelain lay strewn around the kitchen counter like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. He frowned at the scene and then at the person responsible, who was doing her best to avoid his eyes.

"Shut up," Raynare said when he gave her a questioning look.

He shrugged and began delicately picking up the larger pieces and depositing them in the nearby garbage can. Her gaze followed him.

"I decided to do the dishes today," that was not what she really wanted to say, and he knew it as well as she did. Nevertheless, he still glanced down at the jagged shard that had once been a bowl in his hand.

"Good job," he said and dropped the offending fragment along with the others into the bin.

She flushed.

"It's not as if I'm good at these type of things," she defended herself, "Our kind are not exactly known for doing mundane things such as chores. I might have gotten frustrated and gotten a little clumsy at the end. So what?" the Fallen Angel crossed her arms together and pouted, "You would have not done any better if you were in my place."

He nudged his shoulder towards the sink and the mess it contained.

"There is clumsy and there is this."

Raynare looked away and huffed.

"You could at least be grateful," she muttered under her breath.

He supposed he could.

"Thank you."

She blinked at him.

"Was that sarcasm or was that sincere? I can never tell when it's you."

It was neither.

"I am grateful for the thought," she seemed surprised by that but also strangely pleased, "But I wonder why you would do something like this."

"I just thought it would be nice of me to clean the dishes to thank you for letting me stay here," the woman replied smoothly.

Nice and Raynare did not mix. He knew it was a lie before the words finished leaving her mouth.

"You've had ample time since I offered you a place," he pointed out, "Why now?"

"If you are thinking this is some coincidence, you are mistaken," she said earnestly, "I've had time to think over some of the things you've said to me and have come to the conclusion that you were right. I'm a changed person. And I thought I would start by doing something nice for you."

"People do not change that quickly."

"How would you know?" she challenged.

The tone was right but the way her eyes flickered towards the distant cabinet gave everything away. A cabinet that held an elaborately decorated case perched on one its shelves. Suddenly everything made sense.

"You want one of my pieces."

She kept up the charade for a moment longer then sagged into her chair when it became apparent he had seen through it.

"Is reading minds now among the Nephilim's powers?" the familiar bitterness had returned.

No, but being observant was. It had helped him when forging Social Links and establishing bonds in his old world. It still aided him now, and he considered it one of his greatest strengths.

"Why?"

"Because I would no longer be in fear of being terminated by one of the other factions," the earnestness was back, though it was of a different kind, "If I am given one of your pieces, they will hesitate before trying to go after me. The devils will respect someone who has summoned Belial and that respect will translate to those among his peerage as well. The angels will fear you and shy away from provoking the one who they think has an Archdemon inside him. All that means I can actually leave your apartment without being challenged."

He raised an eyebrow.

"The angels will fear me?"

She understood what he meant and shook her head.

"The mark Metatron gave them is a sigil of penitence. It is also a mark of silence. They won't exactly be out there shouting to the world what happened to them. The angels do not yet know what you can do."

He had not thought about that. Both what she had just recently said and her earlier request.

"What do you want for it?" his reverie was broken by the desperation in her tone.

He turned to regard her.

"There is nothing you can offer me."

She stood up.

"There is always something I can offer you," she whispered.

Her fingers were on her chest before he could stop her, the slender digits undoing the buttons of her shirt. What lay beneath was revealed, pink attractive flesh and the beginning of two, succulent mounds. She leaned in closer, so that he could get a better look. In response, he made sure his gaze never left her face.

"There is nothing you can offer me," he repeated.

Raynare's reply to that was to press closer. Another button came undone, revealing more flesh, and he took an inadvertent step back.

"You helped her," the words were purred out, "Why can't you help me?"

"When she asked for help," he countered "it was not in this way."

"This way is the more attractive way."

She was not wrong. She was also very beautiful, but it was a different kind of beauty. A harsh kind. An unforgiving kind. Nevertheless, he still resisted.

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