| kamiya fujime|
The demon was like a child. An overgrown, adult sized child. The way he exclaimed with the discovery of food, the excitement in his eyes when his gaze settled on something that would be devoured in minutes...It spoke volumes to Kamiya.
Leaning against a counter, Kamiya looked around the kitchen. It was just about as bad as he had expected it to be. He could feel the light cloth of his yukata sticking to his skin with the heat in the kitchen. The pots on the stove released vapors of hot water that beaded on his forehead. He wiped the water off in case it was mistaken for sweat. His eyes settled on another demon with her human. Where was that human's angel? He pitied the poor male. She looked like a nutcase.
But then again, all demons looked like nutcases to him.
He wasn't particularly hungry. Angels didn't need human food. The wonders of being a supernatural being, right? Nonetheless, he couldn't help but sample one of the tarts that had been left out to cool. The whipped cream...no doubt it was fresh. The strawberries, although glazed, looked like they had just been picked. Kamiya had to admit that whoever had made this food was a genius, with a lot of talent. He would have to give the chef his compliments when he saw him.
Picking up the tart, he made his way into the main dining room, sitting gracefully down across from Julian. He raised an eyebrow, as the demon practically thrummed in his seat, ready to eat the food he had just gotten. Impatient, Kamiya couldn't help remarking as Aiko flew out of the kitchen, a few sticks of millet in her beak. She had apparently discovered the grain store all by herself. The bird settled down on the middle of the table, throwing her millet down and beginning to peck at the spilled grain.
"So, Julian," he looked up at the demon, a sly smile on his face. "How old are you?"
The demon was like a child. An overgrown, adult sized child. The way he exclaimed with the discovery of food, the excitement in his eyes when his gaze settled on something that would be devoured in minutes...It spoke volumes to Kamiya.
Leaning against a counter, Kamiya looked around the kitchen. It was just about as bad as he had expected it to be. He could feel the light cloth of his yukata sticking to his skin with the heat in the kitchen. The pots on the stove released vapors of hot water that beaded on his forehead. He wiped the water off in case it was mistaken for sweat. His eyes settled on another demon with her human. Where was that human's angel? He pitied the poor male. She looked like a nutcase.
But then again, all demons looked like nutcases to him.
He wasn't particularly hungry. Angels didn't need human food. The wonders of being a supernatural being, right? Nonetheless, he couldn't help but sample one of the tarts that had been left out to cool. The whipped cream...no doubt it was fresh. The strawberries, although glazed, looked like they had just been picked. Kamiya had to admit that whoever had made this food was a genius, with a lot of talent. He would have to give the chef his compliments when he saw him.
Picking up the tart, he made his way into the main dining room, sitting gracefully down across from Julian. He raised an eyebrow, as the demon practically thrummed in his seat, ready to eat the food he had just gotten. Impatient, Kamiya couldn't help remarking as Aiko flew out of the kitchen, a few sticks of millet in her beak. She had apparently discovered the grain store all by herself. The bird settled down on the middle of the table, throwing her millet down and beginning to peck at the spilled grain.
"So, Julian," he looked up at the demon, a sly smile on his face. "How old are you?"