Of moonlight and memories.

He stared at the running stream for what seemed for hours. The moon light was glistening reflections in it, and the sound was soothing. Once and a while, he would glance at the small human resting in his arms, just to make sure she was still breathing. It was ridiculous to think such way, but she was so still, it was hard to tell.

She wasn't shaking, which meant he was radiating enough warmth for her to feel comfortable. Good.

He moved a strand of the hair from her face, being careful with his claws to not accidently pierce her soft flesh. Every time he touched her he had to be extremely careful, even if it meant only holding her in his arms. One wrong move and he could have accidently snapped her in half. It was ridiculous how delicate humans were.

Once the hair was moved from her face, he could get a better look at her. She was sound asleep, as he expected.

He sighed, stroking her hair gently so she wouldn’t wake up. It was hard to believe that this was the same human who attempted killing him several times, hated him with passion within the pit of her gut for so long.

And now here she was, sitting in his lap, face buried into the dark fur of his chest. She relied on him, craving his warmth. His contact. Him.
He couldn’t help but smirk slyly in success. It was tragically beautiful, in a sense.
A feisty human with control issues and a dominant personality, being forced to trust something so foreign and superior in most any possible way.

It’s not like she really had any other choice but to. Her life was at risk, and she was very much aware that only he could provide the necessary protection and care she needed. Not that it made her any more willing to tag along with him. She learned eventually though, and that was all that mattered. He could even say she trusted him at this point. But her ego would never allow her to admit it.

He continued running his claws through her short, copper locks. His glowing orbs narrowed slightly when she gently stirred, small sounds escaping her lips as she adjusted in her position against him.

He liked it when she slept. It allowed him to observe her in peace. She usually disliked being touched by him, which he figured out rather quickly.

Anytime he would just simply pat her back or touch her shoulder to get her attention, she’d flinch, and back away from him. He was perplexed by her rational behavior, first thinking it was because she was afraid of him.

Not that it was surprising. He was a seven foot tall shadow dweller, a demon, a monster in human eyes, after all. It was in the human nature to be afraid of something that seemed so frightening to reach out for them. It was probably smarter on her part as well.
But after being able to observe her more carefully, he noticed that it wasn’t out of fear, or panic.

It was about being proven inferior to him.

He found it completely ridiculous that she was so resolute about proving herself equal or superior to him. Why was it necessary? It wasn’t like he would ever lay hands on her.

It would at least explain the countless times she attack him at their first encounters. To only prove her dominance of the situation. It was odd, because female humans were known to be less aggressive and weaker than the males, but this girl had gone completely against the norm.

She was stronger than many human males he has encountered, faster and had a high stamina. Oh, and far more aggressive. On their first encounter, he noticed she has fought many battles before him to survive.

She had fight off many creatures like him, which wasn’t easy. And even though he was a lot more menacing in size and posture compared to her other opponents, she didn’t hold back once, didn’t show fear despite her inferiority to him. She wanted him dead. Every time she pulled that trigger, he could see the blazing determination in her eyes. It was something he never encountered before in a human.
He knew this poor girl has fought all of her life against monsters like him. It was only natural to be as bitter as she was. Of course, considering all nineteen years of her past, he didn’t react aggressively to her behavior and attempt to kill him. Not that she could kill him, but that wasn’t the point.

He went up to her, and simply disassembled her from her firearms before she could hurt herself. When she tried to fight him physically, simply pulled her arms behind her back with one arm, and pressed her against his abdomen, holding her head with his other, so that she wouldn’t break her neck on accident and comfort. He stood still. He wanted to prove that he wasn’t there to hurt her, but the exact opposite and that it was okay to submit. She didn’t seem to take that, and continued struggling and writhing in his hold. He just stood there, looking down at the fighting female, waiting for her to calm.

The human mentality and physical wellbeing was also delicate, and her heart rate was above normal. She was under stress. This went on for at least an hour, until she finally came to the ends of her strength, panting ragged breaths against him. She was still, quivering in tension and anticipation, but didn’t fight him any longer.
Somehow she has come to understanding that he wasn’t there to kill her. And if he was, he would have done it by then. Still, she disliked the position she was in, and cursed every word in her vocabulary to let him know. He didn’t understand most of the words that came from the small human’s mouth, but he did sense her displeasure, and let her free when he noticed she has calmed and was probably too weak to try and attack him again.

She took a few clumsy steps back, if it was as a form of safety distance or to get a picture of his large form entirely was unsure. She stared at him, not saying anything for a few minutes. The demon stood there, watching her, letting her process the situation patiently. This must have been extremely nerve wrecking for her.
Eventually, she licked her chapped lips and swallowed, noticing how dry her mouth has become, and asked with a hoarse voice.

“Aren’t ya gonna kill me?”

The only words he understood was kill and me, and the sound of how the sentence finished indicated it was question and not a demand or a statement.
He shook his head to her.

His English was still minimal, but as long as he could understand a couple of words from each sentence to make a rough picture of what she was asking, they’d be able to communicate verbally at least a little.

His language barrier has gotten smaller since the two of them have been together. Having her rant and elaborate in words and explaining things to him have him understand her ways. Having her by his side had its perks.

The demon looked at the sky, watching the sun rise, before looking back at Harper in his arms. He should think of an alternative to get her food. She was going to wake soon.