Burning Desire

15

"Get up," Winston whispered, nudging Tristan's shoulder and trying to gently shake him awake.

Tristan groaned in annoyance, his eyes crusty from dried tears, and they were burning a bit, making him want to just keep his eyes shut.

"No, it's too early," Tristan whined, trying to push Winston away.

He felt the demon's hands vanish and, for a moment, felt triumphant, but then he felt hands slide under his butt and shoulders and Winston scooped him up.

"Hey!" Tristan snapped, his eyes ripping open in annoyance. "I'm not a fucking bride! Put me down! It's too damn early, and in case you didn't catch on, I'm still kind of upset and just want to cry and sleep today!"

Winston shook his head. "Not today, T," he said, catching the slight blush on Tristan's face when he said the name. "We're going away."

"Unless it's to my grave so I can sign a permanent contract with sleep, I don't want it," Tristan said, crossing his arms in Winston's grip. "Or like, a hospital so I can have a medically induced coma. Wake me up when One Direction gets back together."

"What's One Direction?"

"You've been alive for hundreds of years and you don't know about One Direction?! Not even by accident?!"

Winston shook his head and set Tristan on the floor, fighting a laugh when Tristan curled up and closed his eyes, not caring that he was on scratchy carpet.

"Fine, I'll pack your bag, but you're going to get up when I say it's time to go."

"Nooooo," Tristan whined, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in the floor as much as he could. "Just let me cry and sleep!"

Winston pulled out two duffel bags and threw some of his own clothes in one, taking care to fold and organize Tristan's so the human felt less relaxed when he saw his clothes weren't a cluttered mess. When he was ready, Winston knelt down next to Tristan's crumpled, tired frame.

"If you get up and get in the car I'll drive through Krispy Kreme for breakfast," he whispered, knowing that it'd win Tristan over.

Sure enough, Tristan sat up seconds later, a pout on his face. "Fine, but I want a jamocha from Arby's too."

"Of course," Winston said, pressing a kiss to Tristan's forehead and handing him his duffel. "Carry your own bag."

"But you have muscles!"

"You gotta earn your jamocha."

"You're the asshole who woke me up at six."

Winston suddenly realized what time it was and took Tristan's bag back. "Uh... Tristan?"

"I'm about to be upset, aren't I?"

"Yeah..." Winston said, pulling out his phone. "Arby's doesn't open until ten."

Tristan groaned and threw his head back. "Why is the universe against me?!" he yelled dramatically, getting into the car and aggressively buckling his seatbelt. "I hate everything."

"Thanks for clarifying, I thought you only hated half of the things in the world for a second there."

Glaring, Tristan reached into the back seat for one of Winston's stray jackets and wrapped it around himself while he turned to look out the window.

They drove to Krispy Kreme and stopped at the drive-thru, Tristan still being dramatic and gazing out the window.

"Will you stop pretending like your life is some telenovela and tell me what kind of donuts you want?" Winston asked.