Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Another painfully slow day. You yawned, leaning back in your chair, your hands busying themselves with a little pet project. If your grandmother was here, she would have scolded you for doing something so unprofessional. That woman and her rules, sometimes you almost missed her constant pointless nagging about maintaining proper business etiquette. Pointless since no one even so much spared a passing glance at this sad excuse of a store, and yet she had always held her head high, taking pride in the little shop, no matter how unpopular it was. You glanced at the clock on the wall, watching the minute hand slowly tick by. Everything in this store was old. The floors, the walls, the paint that desperately needed a new coat, the register that sometimes locked up and had to hit a couple of times to get it open.

Not even low tier thugs bothered with a place like this, that’s how unpopular it was. It was so sad that no one even tried to rob it, you saw more crime happen at a local drug store than here, that’s pretty pathetic. You sigh, tugging at the last stitch in what you’d been working on, and you smile as you finish up, placing the sewing needle in a pincushion. You hold up the long red coat, the ends being a darker maroon color, along with the straps. On the back you stitched in a golden phoenix with long luxurious feathers, sitting perched on a flowering branch. Despite never having much business, your grandmother was adamant in your lessons, and despite never needing them, you were grateful for it. You could make neat designs like these for yourself.

“That’s a keeper. I wonder if she would’ve approved.” You laugh to yourself, putting your new coat down on the counter, allowing yourself a stretch. You’d robotically opened up the store, dusted all the surfaces, and redressed the bust displays in the window, before sitting down behind the counter, knowing no one would step foot inside. Yet you still routinely did this, wanting to honor the woman who took care of you, by keeping the shop open for as long as you could. Which wouldn’t be much longer now. Soon you know the shop would go broke, and you’d have to give up the space. Surely she would understand wouldn’t she? She’s not going to come back as a vengeful spirit and curse you is she? You wouldn’t put it past her.

You were in the middle of a nice stretch, when the shop door slammed open almost violently, the bell atop nearly flying off its perch. You nearly fell off your chair, being completely caught off guard by the sudden crash. Peeking over the corner you're more shocked than you are scared. A demon. Standing in your shop now was a demon, his bright red hair being almost as stunning as his red eyes. He wasn’t very tall, but he had a good couple inches on you, and he had a sleek frame, his black shirt outlined hints of muscle. He had these tiny black shades that sat on the bridge of his nose, serving absolutely no functional purpose. His ears were noticeably pointed, a telltale sign of demon heritage, and his lips were pulled in a scowl, showing sharpened teeth, his hands shoved in his pants pockets. What was a demon doing in your shop? Especially such an obviously moody demon like this one? You swallow to clear your throat.

“Welcome, is there uh, something you’re looking for today?” It’s been so long since you greeted a customer, you felt almost awkward asking what he wanted. The demon turned to you, his eyes previously scanning and judging the state of the shop now judging you. His red eyes were calculating and intimidating, a pang of fear settling in your stomach as he stared at you. Despite being nervous, you give him a friendly smile, hoping maybe he would hurry with his business. After a minute of just staring he sighs, and you almost jumped at the sudden sound.
“Listen well, peasant, because I will only say this once.” He walks over to the counter and you have to stop yourself from immediately stepping back as he approaches. Just because he’s a demon and obviously glaring at you, doesn’t mean he’s violent… right? He places a hand to his chest dramatically. “I am Red Son, heir to the Demon Bull family and only child of the Demon Bull King.” He announced proudly. Was that… important? Something about ‘Demon Bull’ vaguely rings a bell but you can’t say exactly why, so you just give a small ‘oh’. Obviously he wasn’t really expecting you to verbally respond, since he continues to monologue, crossing his arms. “You see while I am brilliant, far more so than your tiny mind can comprehend, there are things I… don’t bother myself with.” That pause made you believe that he’d been searching for the right words. Words that didn’t indicate he couldn’t do something, or had trouble with.

“Is one of those things, uh, sewing?” You rub your neck awkwardly, and you swear you can see his eyes glow for a second, before he smirks at you, the sharp teeth he had making it look much more feral and unhinged.
“Correct, peasant. Thankfully you don’t seem as slow as most humans, so far at least.” Wow, he not only insulted you, but your entire race. What was his deal? Calling you a peasant? Who even uses that word anymore? If he wasn’t a demon and sort of cute you would’ve already dropped your friendly customer service smile. “You see, I have far more important matters to attend to, so I leave such trivial things such as clothing to my servants.” Oh, he had servants? Was he some kind of rich kid? That would explain his… unique personality.

“I see. But if clothing is the issue, aren’t there other shops you could choose from?” You ask, this shop being just a speck compared to other larger clothing brand companies. Red Son sighs, rubbing his temple with a scowl on his lips.
“You would think that would be the case, but apparently as times change, all the competent tailors have been overtaken by cheap garbage. The things you humans consider ‘fashionable’ are pitiable at best.” You felt the corner of your lip twitch as you strained to keep a smile, even when he gives you a once over and scoffs. Jerk.

“I see. Did your ‘servants’ not find anything you liked?” You try to make conversation, seeing as this guy really enjoys talking, or monologuing really. He sighs, a hand on his hip.
“You’re sharp for a peasant. Yes, I sent my servants to find me new clothing, but they returned with such disgusting excuses for clothes, you’d think they’d be smarter, seeing as it was I who built them.” Something about this guy was starting to get frustratingly familiar. Red hair, arrogant attitude, handsome, and liked making robots… It was on the very tip of your tongue! “Apparently the only worthwhile tailors these days dwell in small hovels like this.” He gestures to the shop and your hand clenched at your side. You know this shop was pretty beat up, but hearing someone else bad mouth it made it hard to hold your tongue. He didn’t seem to notice your frustration as he continued. “So, I have been looking for a worthy new tailor, but despite my efforts, all of them have come short of my expectations.” He sneered and the corners of his mouth had small flames burst forth, like an angry dragon.

It all suddenly clicked, the hazy memory sharpened into focus. You remembered being told by your grandmother how an ancient hero sealed the Demon Bull King under a mountain, saving the world from destruction, but there were tales that his family were still lurking, plotting to revive their monarch. She used to scare you with those stories, whenever you were being bad she’d tell you, ‘Careful, or the bull family will take you away and gobble you whole!’. Now that threat seemed very very possible. This demon, Red Son, claimed he was that monster's child! Meaning he was most definitely dangerous. He opens his mouth again, but his eye catches something, and you follow his gaze to the red coat you’d set aside. Without even asking he grabs it, holding it up to give it a once over. He arched a brow, his thumb rubbing over the golden thread on the back.

“Hmm, this is decent.” He mutters, before turning his eyes to you. “Where is the tailor who made this?” You swallowed, fidgeting with your fingers nervously.
“R-Right here. I um… made it.” You explained and he arches a brow, looking around the shop, as if to check if you were lying before turning back to you.
“You made this? By yourself?” He questions and you nod. Did you not look like you did? Well usually the one who made the clothes doesn’t run the register like this, but you’re the only employee here. Well technically you’re the boss and not the employee, but you know the demon didn’t really care. He huffs before tossing the coat back onto the counter. “This is acceptable. Be grateful, not many have the privilege of being hired by a prince.” He smirks and you gulp. While normally you were grateful for any customers, you felt incredibly uncomfortable with the thought of working with this one. “You start immediately. This coat you’ve made, it pleases me, so you’ll make me one just like it, but with a different design.” He commands and you blink. Wait, he wanted you to start right now? As in this very second?! When you just stand there he frowns and crosses his arms, you see his ponytail flare behind him. Even his hair can turn into fire?! “Are you ignoring me?” He snaps and you break out of your daze.

“N-No! I was just s-surprised is all!” You wave your hands before quickly bending down to find the little measuring tape you hardly ever used. “Um, right this way.. Uh what would you like me to call you?” He said he was a prince but did he want you to call him ‘your highness’?
“You have special permission to use my name. You should feel honored.” Oh you feel something alright. You lead him to the back where there were three full length mirrors set up, and a small stand that he’d step on. You pull the curtain closed, and try not to look as nervous as you felt.
“Right, please step onto the stand and we can begin.” He just scoffs, before muttering something under his breath, you were half listening as you stretched out the tape measure, pressing one end to his wrist extending to his shoulder. His skin was incredibly warm, for a human it’d be concerning how hot it was, but as a fire demon this must be normal for him. You only touched him for a moment but he violently jerks, whirling back on you in a split second.
“What are you doing, peasant?!” He snaps, and you flinch back as well, his hair and eyes flaring up in a violent manner. “Just who and where do you think you’re touching?!”

You blinked before swallowing, bowing your head.
“I-I’m sorry, I need to take your measurements, so your clothes will fit.” You stuttered, terrified this monster was going to burn you and this shop down. You’d read being burned alive was one of the most painful ways to die, and you really don’t want to see if that was true or not. It’s quiet for a moment, and you wonder if he was going to just say ‘fuck it’ and roast you when the heat you felt faded.
“You should have told me that first, peasant girl.” He scoffs, and you look up, seeing his eyes and hair return to normal. He sighs and holds out his arm for you, an invitation, you realize. So you quietly get back to work, checking the length from his wrist to shoulder before wrapping the tape around his arm to measure the width. You continue like that, jotting down the numbers on a little notepad, with him completely silent, neither of you looking at the other. You noticed he shuddered a few times, whenever your hands rested on his skin, and you chalked it up to him trying not to lose his temper.
“Um, I’m nearly done, but now I need to take the front measurements. Could you please lift your arms?” He just sighs and you quickly make your way in front of him, moving the tape behind him, doing your best not to accidentally hug him as you get it around his body. Despite being skinny he had a wide chest and broad shoulders, which again was surprising since he looked like a nerdy shut in. You also noticed he smelled a bit. Not bad, it was just noticeable. It was sort of like metal? You don’t know how, you just know it makes you think of metal. He did mention he built robots, so the metallic hints made sense, but it was overwhelmed by the scent of smoke. Not cigarette smoke, more like campfire smoke. It was… nice? You tried not to think too much about it as you nervously raised your hands to his neck, for the last measurement.

It was a little closer than you would’ve liked, but while your eyes were checking tiny numbers, his eyes were darting all over, taking in all the little details he could see of your face. The color of your eyes being much clearer, the slight flush to your cheeks, the color of your slightly parted lips as you focused on your task. He could smell something faintly like lavender, mixed with the sweetness of vanilla, was that you? No one except his mother had dared get this close to him, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Your hands had been cold on his skin, perhaps that was just because of his high body temperature or maybe your fingertips were frigid, but the moment he’d felt them on his skin, it had sent a jolt through his entire body. He could tell you were nervous around him, as you should be, but he’d seen something else cross your expression before, when he’d been talking about this shop. It had almost looked like… anger? Ridiculous, truly, a human getting attitude with a demon? Ha! Yet he’d seen the briefest of emotion in your eyes, and it had… intrigued him. Perhaps that’s why he bothered to allow you to live after daring to touch him.

“All done.” He blinks before looking away, wondering why he’d been staring at you in the first place, allowing you to write on your little notepad. “With all your measurements done, I should have your coat ready soon. You mentioned you’d like a different design on the back. Do you happen to have your desired design on you?” Maybe you were actually excited to work on something that wasn’t just for you, since you were talking to him like a normal person. He tapped his chin before turning to the wall. You didn’t know what he was going to do until it was too late, and you gasped as he used his finger to trace, no, burn his design into the wood, leaving a dark mark.
“This is the design. I expect my coat to be done in three days.” What?! Three days?! Is he insane?! He must be.

“What the fuck, asshole?!” You snapped, rushing over to the wall, checking if he really just had used his finger like a heat pen and scorched his weird little drawing into the side of your shop. He had. You felt anger rush through you, who the fuck does he think he is, damaging your grandmothers shop?! You turn to give him a piece of your mind, but your mouth goes dry seeing his hair flaring up, his glowing red eyes staring right at you. You swallow, the air has become very hot. “I-I..” you stutter, taking a step back as he steps forward, until your back is pressed into one of the mirrors. His hand slammed next to your head, caging you in.

“Choose your next words carefully.” He hissed, and you could feel the heat radiating off his hands. You were scared, you’re terrified! What were you thinking, yelling at him like that?! You look into his eyes, fear clearly in yours as your lip trembles.
“I-I… I‘ll have your coat done t-tomorrow.” He stares for a minute, contemplating, before his hair and eyes return to normal, no longer threatening to burn a hole through the ceiling.
“Smart choice, peasant.” He moves away from you, and as he pushes past the curtain, the bell signaling his leave, you sink down to the floor, legs having turned to jelly as your knees give out in fear. You could still feel the residual heat from his anger, and you felt dizzy from the temperature spike. You almost died. It was really sinking in that you’d been uncomfortably close to meeting your end just now, and it was only quick thinking that saved you.

You curled up, head pressing into the floor, your body trembling. A monster, you’d met an actual monster just now, and he’d nearly killed you. So many emotions were thrumming through your body, but you forced yourself to stand, to look at the mark burned into the wall. Better the wall than you. You said you’d have his order finished by tomorrow. You quickly take a picture before moving to grab the red cloth you’d so happily brought in earlier, willing your hands to stop shaking. You needed every spare second you could, you didn’t see what he does to people who disappoint him.

Princess Iron Fan prided herself on being a smart woman, it’s what made her such a formidable foe, and yet when her child stormed into the hall, she was at a loss. She knows his anger well, his constant tantrums being second nature to her, and yet the way his eyes were clouded did not reflect his usual rage. This was… different. New. That’s troubling.
“My son. Where did you go?” She asks and her child actually jolts, as if he hadn’t noticed her there, doubling her concern.
“Mother…I went to find a new tailor.” Despite everything, he didn’t seem angry. If he was simply angry, frustrated, pouting, she wouldn’t bat an eye, but it’s that new glint in his eye, that distant look that had her stiff.
“You found none?”
“No… No, I found one.”

One who’s fury had lit something within him ablaze, that made the dying ember of his heart crackle with new warmth. What was this feeling? What did you do to him? Why didn’t he hate it? Just who was this peasant?

Chapter Text

Red son was a lot of things. A demon, first and foremost, a fact he took pride in. The prince of the demon bull family. A brilliant engineer, a being of unimaginable power. But he never considered himself a fool. Yet, as he laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling, he felt like a complete idiot as the day's events replayed in his head. That human… so small and helpless, but the way you yelled at him, the anger that burned in your pretty eyes, it made his heart flutter. Never had a mere human, one with no powers or wealth, dared to shout at him like that, to snap at him and glare up at him.

“What’s wrong with me?” He groans, putting his hands over his eyes. Why was he so hung up on a woman he’d just met? Centuries of knowledge and wisdom, and yet this was the first instance he could think of where someone made such an impact in a short time. But why?! You’d been rude to him, called him an asshole for burning your store, why was he so… so… fascinated?! You weren’t bad looking, for a mortal at least. He sighs remembering every little detail he’d seen of you while he had you caged. Despite being angry, when shown real power, you were smart and submitted quickly. He liked that, a human should know their place after all. But what if he’d also been human? Would you have yelled at him? Cursed at him and swear while glaring at him? Even angry you were… pretty.

He pulls a pillow over his head, trying to block out the lights, hoping that sleep would end this confusion in his head. He jerked feeling something, no, someone touching him. He throws the pillow off his face, his hair flaring up. Who would dare- He froze.
“Shop girl?” He gaps, looking at the woman who’d caused him such grief, sitting by his side, fingers brushing over his clothes.
“Oh, I’m sorry Red Son, I was just checking if the clothes fit you right.” You tucked some of your hair back, and he felt a lump in his throat.
“W-What’re you doing here?” He asked, and you tilted your head giving him a confused expression.
“What do you mean? I live here?” You leaned closer to him and his heart felt as if it would explode. Your cold fingertips brushed his cheek making him shiver, his eyes being completely transfixed by yours. “Are you alright? You seem upset.” You asked him, worry in your big doe like eyes. His mouth tried to spew something, maybe to get you away or yell, but nothing came out.

“W-Where do you think you’re t-touching peasant?!” He finally spits out, but instead of scaring, you let out the sweetest little giggle he’s ever heard.
“It’s been a while since you called me that.” You hummed, your fingertips trailing down from his cheek, past his throat, to his collarbone. He swallows thickly, his hands clenching the silk sheets underneath him. He jolted as you straddled his hips, your thighs trapping him between you and the bed. “I missed it a little, it’s funny when you say it.” Your lips ghost over his ear making a shiver race up his back, his fists shaking as his breath hitched. His lip was caught between his teeth as your lips left featherlight kisses from his ear to his neck, your fingers slowly going under his shirt, touching his heated skin.
“W-What’re you-“ he pants, feeling like he may go insane if you keep touching him like this, in a way no one else ever had. It was so much, too much, he wanted to push you away and also bring you closer. Wanted to scream at you to stop and beg you to keep touching him like he’s a precious treasure. Torn between his head and his heart. He knows this isn’t right, and yet he wanted it to be, it felt so good, so… so perfect.
“What I’ve always done. Serve you, beloved.” You smile down at him, the name rolling off your tongue and he swallows thickly. All the fight left his body as you leaned closer and his eyes shut, his head lifting for his lips to meet yours.

He grunted, the sensation of falling jolting his senses as he landed face first into the smooth stone floor. He groans, rubbing his face as he sits up, slowly processing his surroundings. He’s… in his workshop. When had he gotten here? He stands up, and looks at where he’d once been laying, his desk had a big drool spot on one of the blueprints, the digital clock above reading the date and time. He blinks… had he… had he fallen asleep in his workshop after coming home? Memories of yesterday suddenly hit him all at once. That’s right, he’d returned home, then closed himself up in his workshop, being unable to sleep. He must’ve passed out at his desk while working into the late hours of the night. Then that meant everything he’d just experienced was… a dream? Never in his life had the demon flushed so red, or felt such shame.

You rubbed at your eyes tiredly. You’d spend all day yesterday getting Red Son’s order finished. You normally tried to at least get 4 hours of sleep, but you’d been too afraid of what would happen if you didn’t finish. You could still clearly see those blood red eyes, those sharp teeth placed in a cruel smile, feel the heat he radiated like a furnace. What was truly annoying was that he wasn’t ugly. Even being an intimidating demon, he wasn’t bad looking like some others. You’d seen a few demons before, but none quite like him. He looked a lot more dangerous than the two dorks who sometimes passed by your street, twins that seemingly share a brain. You wince, looking down at your finger that you’d accidentally poked yet again. You must be tired because it’s been a long time since you made such a mistake like hurting your finger while sewing, especially this many times. You put down the nearly finished coat, looking for another band aid, and pass the wall which he’d burned his insignia into. You look up at the design, really taking it in. If he hadn’t burned your wall you would’ve been impressed by his attention to detail.

“Too bad he’s such a jerk, otherwise he would’ve been cute.” You mutter, pulling out some band aids to wrap your finger. He sort of reminded you of your old highschool boyfriend: Nerdy, a total theater kid, and super into terrible horror films. It was a bittersweet memory, and a bit of a reality check. You haven't dated since highschool, when was the last time you even thought of finding a partner? You sigh, rubbing your eyes again, a yawn escaping this time, no time to be thinking about that. Your grandmother had nagged you constantly about finding a proper spouse and raising a family, if she was still alive and knew that you were thinking, she’d be grinning like a smug cat. You’re sleep deprived, obviously you can’t be trusted to use your brain wisely. Maybe you should take a break? You were nearly finished anyways, so it wouldn’t hurt for just a small break right? On second thought, it was practically done, so just a few more minutes shouldn’t hurt right? You pull the last loop in the gold thread, you’d picked out the nicest you had, you snipped the end, finally finished. Despite what grief the customer gave you, this was a splendid piece. You hold it up to the light and almost squeal. It had to be one of your best creations yet! You’d spared no expense, paying attention to the smallest detail. You twirled around so happy with yourself.

“He’ll love it, there’s no way he won’t.” You hum to yourself and you look it over. It was made from your most expensive and durable fabric, yet it was also soft and comfortable. You’d added straps to the cuffs in case he ever wanted to adjust the length, or simply fold up his sleeves. The golden thread on the back was meticulously embroidered, no stitch out of place. It was such a brilliant red color, catching the light at every angle making it also seem to glow, as if made from fire itself. It’s the best coat you’d ever made! It really was nice, you kind of wanted to… try it? He won’t know you tried it on, right? What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt you. With that little pep talk, you slipped it on, but were surprised to see that the sleeves went past your fingertips, and the bottoms touched the ground.

You were extremely sure you took the right measurements… Was he really this much larger than you? But he looked so… skinny! Kind of like a stereotypical nerd, and yet his coat didn’t fit you at all. True, he did easily loom over you, but most people do. Maybe it was just a demon thing? You’d yet to meet a demon who wasn’t larger than an average human, maybe it was just genetics? He did mention his father was the Demon Bull King, but thinking about that made you only more confused and curious. He didn’t have any bullish traits… except that personality of his, but other than that, nothing. No horns, no tail, not even a nose ring! What kind of bull prince doesn’t have any of those things? Or was he adopted? You must be extremely tired if you were letting yourself think of such ridiculous things.

He really was quite the character, though. After your initial fear had passed, dampened by pure exhaustion, you were a bit stunned by his over the top mannerisms, as if he was always making a statement that he was there and should be given attention. His voice wasn’t bad either, when he wasn’t shouting or snapping, it had this unique accent that you found… appealing. You look at yourself in the mirror before you scowl, copying the same look and gestures he’d shown you yesterday.
“It is I, Red Son! I’m a super important rich boy and like saying peasant! Peasant, peasant, peasant!” You stick your tongue out before giggling in a way that’s usually seen with sleep deprivation or heavy drinking. That was enough fun for you, the sooner you get this out of your store, the sooner you get to head home and go to bed. You’d quite literally started working on his coat the second he left, worried about how much fire it would take to burn down your shop. You hadn’t bothered to close the shop, only leaving once to run to the gas station nearby and buy a dozen energy drinks. You take off the coat, putting it on a bust and clipping it up properly, brushing off any dust or imperfections, making sure it was absolutely pristine. That little demon prince isn’t even gonna know what hit him! You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.

Now all you needed to do was wait for him. You check the clock and gawk at the time. Six thirty in the morning?! You said it’d be done by tomorrow, but even demons slept right? There’s no way he’d come this early just for a coat. Yet what if he did? What if he came right after you’d closed up, got impatient while waiting for you, and just burned down your shop? What if he broke in and stole it? Then you’d have to pay for damages and lose money on an item. There were too many risks, so you decided to turn out the store lights in the front, but keep the light in the fitting room and counter on, turning the sign in front to ‘Closed’. That way he’d know you’re here, but other customers wouldn’t come in, not that you really had to worry about that. You sit at the counter, resting your head on your arms, the energy drinks having run their course, and now you’re running on fumes. Maybe… maybe just a little nap won’t hurt? It’s definitely not a smart idea, falling asleep in public, a defenseless single woman, but you’re so tired. Just keeping your eyes open was a struggle. Despite your best efforts, your body slumped into a comfortable position on the counter, eyes sealing shut as you drift off to sleep.

He wasn’t expecting… this. After about two hours of trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and then another hour just debating if going back was a good idea, he found himself outside the small shop he’d visited mere hours ago. If only he had the same confidence to slam open the door, stride inside like yesterday before this… issue began. He takes a deep breath, not to calm himself, he didn’t need calm. He needed fire. In the past anger and pride led to a few of his shortcomings, but more often than not it saved him. Gave him the power and motivation he needed to push forward, like now for instance, as he pushed the shop door open. He was not about to let some silly dream make him a gutless coward! Especially not because of some mortal! He scowls as he enters, just like yesterday, but he halted. Thus he landed in his current predicament. He was expecting to see you, as you did promise to have his coat done by today, but he wasn’t expecting to find you like this. Being who he is, he didn’t have many friends, and making as many enemies as he did, you learn to sleep with one eye open. Yet here you are, a defenseless, weak little human, completely vulnerable as you slept, your head tucked into your arms like a tired kitten.

He stood there awkwardly for a second, should he yell to wake you? Then again if you had actually finished his coat to his liking, then he may want to continue doing business with you, and working with a constantly terrified, miserable worker was inconvenient. That’s why he’d replaced all the servants with robots. Robots don’t get tired or hungry, they don’t need breaks and don’t complain. He sighs, making his way over to the counter. He’ll just poke you awake, that’s the normal thing to do right?
“Wake up, peasant.” He commanded, hesitating for a second before poking your shoulder with one finger. He tried that a few more times but you hardly even stirred, annoying him greatly. He put a full hand on your arm, shaking you now. “Human! Shop girl, wake up this instance!” He hissed and you groaned, scrunching up your nose before lifting your head. He pulled his hand away from you so fast, like a child caught red handed stealing candy.

You blinked slowly, your eyes unfocused and hazy, a telltale sign of your semi lucid state. You looked at him for a second before rubbing your eyes, moving off your seat, stretching as you beckon him with a wave of your hand.
“My name’s (Y/N).” You rub your eyes again, leading him to where his coat was. Despite taking a short nap, your tiredness didn’t seem alleviated at all, if anything you felt even worse somehow. That means you’re far too tired to care about some rich demon guy’s snobbish attitude and remarks right away. Too tired to worry about him turning you into an extra crispy chicken nugget. “Just in case ‘peasant’ isn’t an exclusive nickname.” You yawned, unaware that you were quite literally playing with fire, Red Son’s ears turning a bit red at your blatant mockery. Pushing the curtain aside, you step to the side, showing off your masterpiece. To your credit, even Red Son looked surprised, his ruby red eyes wide and eyebrows raised. He probably didn’t believe you’d finish so quickly, or maybe he expected something rushed and hideous. No, you took pride in your work and despite the threat he posed to your well-being, you were going to deliver a quality product.

He takes a moment to look it over, circling around the display twice, eyes scanning for any flaw or imperfection. Seemingly satisfied he takes the coat off its hanging, easily slipping his arms through the sleeves and pulling it onto his body. You made this coat for him, you literally made it for him to wear, and yet it still shocked you how.. perfect it looks. As if he were a canvas missing its final stroke of paint, when the red coat was fitted to his body, it was like he was finally complete. A puzzle made whole with a missing piece returned. You’d thought the coat was perfect before, but he made it complete. He turned to the mirrors, looking at himself, turning left and right to see every inch of his visage. A smile curled at the corners of his lips, he turned to you with a sharp toothed grin.

“I admit, I’m impressed. You did well, for a mortal.” Backhanded compliment, but you’d take it! Honestly you were just shocked how amazing he looked! When you’d first met him, you thought that his image was missing something, but for the life of you, it was impossible to say what it was. Now you understood what he needed, now he looked fully dressed, complete. You can’t help the excited grin that spreads over your face, striding over to him with a bounce in your step. You vaguely heard him ask what you were doing and you clasp your hands together, looking him over before looking him directly in the eye, your gaze sparkling with glee.
“Wow! I mean just, wow! You look amazing! Stunning! I didn’t think it’d look so good on you, but seriously, wow!“ Your sleepy brain was completely useless, meaning your mouth filter was gone, and you just said whatever came to mind. “Is it comfortable? Do the sleeves fit well? How’s the collar? Is it loose enough?” You ask a flurry of questions, Red Son being a little too surprised to answer. You continue to ramble getting a little too close for the fire demon's liking, the dream he had vividly flashing through his mind, and he finally gets his brain working again, when he realizes you’d backed him into a wall.
“I-It’s fine!” He snaps, and his entire body jerks when you reach out to touch him, his hair flaring up again. “It’s p-perfect, I’ll take it as is.” He speaks in a rush, fishing out his wallet he practically slammed a small stack of money in your hand before he all but runs out of the shop, the sign swinging from the force of his abrupt exit. You blink once, then several times, looking down at the stack of paper in your hands, then to the door and back to the money… did he just… did he just run away? From you?

No, that couldn’t be right, but then you think about the odd expression on his face moments ago, a cross between a nervous smile and scowl. His pupils had been blown wide, eyes frantically looking everywhere but at you directly, and his face… his entire face was red. Had he been… blushing? Red Son, blushing? It started out as a soft chuckle before turning into a fit of giggles, Red Son, the self proclaimed great son of the Demon Bull King, had blushed over a little compliment? Did he not get compliments often and got embarrassed whenever given one? That was cute! So cute that you can’t stop yourself from giggling like a drunk schoolgirl. You smile to yourself, you’re sure that once you get some sleep and you can actually think straight again, you’ll find this entire interaction a lot less funny, but right now you’re giggling to yourself as you close up the shop and all the way home. Maybe Red Son isn’t so bad after all, he did give you more than enough money to pay for the coat, heck this was probably enough to cover your rent this month! You’d hold onto it for now though, despite being a demon you didn’t like cheating people out of their money. Red Son sure is an interesting guy… maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Why did he run? He’s Red Son, heir of the Demon Bull King, a powerful fire demon who could bring cities to ruin with a flick of his wrist! Yet he ran from you? A mere mortal woman!? Ridiculous! Yet here he is, isolated in his workshop with his thoughts in shambles, as he replayed what you’d said on loop. You said he looked… amazing, stunning even. No biting remark, no sarcasm lacing your tone, you’d genuinely thought he looked good and praised him for it. Why? You knew he was a demon, a cruel one at that, he wouldn’t say it was wrong if you saw him as a monster. Despite all those things you’d approached him, with no malice or ill intent, and complimented him. He groans, carding his fingers through his now messy red hair. What was wrong with you, woman?! Were all mortals like this nowadays? He must be going crazy, it’s almost as if he could still feel you near him, could still smell you, which is definitely impossible.

He furrows his brow when he takes a deep breath and the hint of something sweet invades his senses. That wasn’t just in his head, he could actually smell something. Sniffing around for a second, trying to locate the source, he looks down at his coat, and hesitantly tugs at it, smelling the collar. Vanilla and Lavender. Had you… had you worn this?! Part of him was indignant that you’d dared to wear something of his when you two weren’t barely even acquainted, but another more traitorous part of him was curious. Why had you put it on? Were you curious about what it would look like? Curious about the difference between you two? What did it look like on you? He was taller than you, and he didn’t know if you were average for a human or if you were just tiny. He could easily imagine the sleeves going well past your fingertips, which he’d noticed were bandaged. Had you really worked so tirelessly that you injured yourself?

He could understand dedication to one’s work, oftentimes he would get lost in his new creations and lose track of time, but you were a seamstress, aren’t your hands important to you? Perhaps you were the same? Needing someone to remind you to take a break, to take care of yourself, to be careful? Perhaps you were the type who needed to be physically pried away from your task or you’d overwork yourself. It probably wouldn’t be that difficult to pick you up and pull you away from your project, considering how small you are. He could clearly imagine the pout of your lips as you whined about nearly being done or being in the zone. How you’d scrunch your nose in distaste like when someone woke you up, glaring up at him with those big eyes of yours, framed by delicate lashes- He jolted in shock when he realized that he’d been daydreaming about… you.

He fumes, his hair flaring up as he slammed his fists on his work table. He’s not going to let this insanity continue, he won’t! He pulls up a screen, and starts typing into a search bar rapidly, grinding his teeth together in anger. This has gotten out of hand far too quickly, it couldn’t possibly be natural. You must secretly be a witch or a demon, as there was no way that a human could stir such… feelings and thoughts inside him! He frowns as he looks through a page of medical ailments, but these were all human afflictions. Demons are far more superior, things like getting sick were practically unheard of for them. He clicks his tongue, typing in a much more specific search, listing his problems in order. He finds more human afflictions, such as heart palpitations and other useless things. He’s not human, so this information was worthless to him. He was going to close his browser and simply distract himself when he saw a topic under ‘similar searches’.

‘Why does my heart beat so fast when I think of someone?’ He smirks to himself, of course he’d find the answer, soon he’d be back to his normal self and this will just be a silly thing of the past! With one click he went from confident to shocked in seconds.
“In the early stages of love?” He reads aloud, confusion clear across his face, despite his shock he continued reading. He skimmed almost half an hour over similar topics, spiraling down a rabbit hole, taking multiple tests and quizzes each saying something similar in result. His face burned crimson before he practically slammed his face into his desk. This wasn’t what he wanted! He didn’t- he isn’t- He’s not in love!! That was ridiculous, he couldn’t be in love! He knows what love is! He knows what love looks like, he’d seen it between his parents almost everyday, and he didn’t share such feelings for a weak creature like you! No, it was much more likely you’d cursed him. He sneers, looking down at the coat he wore before nearly ripping it off his body, holding it up in one hand, his other igniting with flames to burn it. You must have put a curse on this clothing! That had to be it! Once he burns it everything will go back to normal-

“What are you doing?” He’d never done well with surprises, and even now he still tries to hide things, flailing and sputtering as he turns to the intruder, hiding the coat behind his back. His mother, of course. Only she would dare to enter his workshop so boldly. Anyone else would’ve gotten a loud rant about how this was his area and to not disturb him, but he held his tongue against his mother.
“M-Mother, I was… I was just doing some research.” He cleared his throat, avoiding her stare as she strides forward, her footsteps completely soundless. When she stands before him, he swallows nervously, trying not to show his panic.
“What is this?” She asks, reaching behind him to touch the clothing he’d been clenching so tightly in his fists.
“O-Oh this? It’s nothing.” He pulls the coat from behind his back, presenting it to Princess Iron Fan, who arches a brow skeptically before holding it up to see what was so important he’d feel the need to hide it from her.
“This doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ to me. You mentioned yesterday you’d found a new tailor. Did they make this?” She asks, turning it over, somewhat impressed by the thread work on the back. Red Son nodded his head and his mother gave a hum of understanding. “It’s well crafted, you’ve found a capable worker.” She holds the coat up and he realizes that she wants to help him put it on. But the curse! However he wasn’t about to tell his mother about the situation he had, although she is his mother, she can be somewhat… judgmental. Cruel. She is a demon after all. So he slips his arms through the sleeves, allowing her to clip the front of it. She fixes the neckline, and brushes his shoulders of dust. She didn’t say anything other than that, simply nodding before heading for the door. He clenched his fist, contemplating for a moment.

“Mother.” He calls and she stops, glancing over her shoulder. He almost regretted speaking out, swallowing as he cast his gaze to the floor. “Do you still… love father?” It was quiet for a moment, and he felt anxiety creep into his chest for asking such a question. It was a question many had asked before, asking why she’d never remarried, why she didn’t allow Red Son to take his fathers place in his court. Some suspected it was because she wanted to rule alone, while others whispered that it was a much more sentimental reason. That couldn’t possibly be the reason though, his mother is a cunning, calculative demon, surely she had some other reason for remaining a widow other than still being in love-

“Yes. I do.” His head snapped up to stare at her but she wasn’t looking at him, her gaze was fixed ahead, looking at something he couldn’t see.
“Why?” He asks before he can stop himself. His mother takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.
“There are many reasons, some greater than others. I’ve waited over a thousand years to return him to this world, my patience is but a single sign of my devotion.” She speaks evenly and calmly, despite their reputation as demons, Red Son had always admired the strong bond between his parents. He thought that after his father was sealed by the Monkey King, that she’d move on eventually. Yet she hadn’t. Even after a thousand years she still thought of her husband, searching for some way to reunite with him. When he was but a young demon, he’d heard humans mention such a bond between lovers that defied logic and reason, that transcended life and death. Soulmates. “Enough questions, I recall asking you to help me resurrect your father, did I not? Do not disappoint me, my son.” He stiffened before bowing his head, muttering a ‘yes mother’ under his breath as she leaves, the doors of his workshop closing behind her with a heavy slam.

Perhaps if they were humans, he could ask her what these confusing feelings in his heart meant. Seek her wisdom and not fear her disappointment or disgust for asking such things, but he is a demon and he mustn’t show such weakness, else he brings shame upon his family. He walks to his desk, spreading out the blueprint for a gauntlet, a tool which would help return his father to life. His eye catches the unclosed tab from before, displaying his last search. ‘Can humans have soulmates?’ He clenched his teeth, closing the browser and focusing all his attention on his work. This was simply a passing distraction, a nonsensical circumstance that didn’t mean anything.

Tomorrow. Yes, by tomorrow he’d be fully rid of these ridiculous feelings and everything would be back to normal! Yes, whatever this was would blow over in a day, he just needs to keep focused and away from you! If the weather can change that easily, then so can he! By tomorrow morning, he’d be back to his old evil self again! He laughs to himself, cackling the villain he truly is, and not some lovestruck, hopeless romantic that those quizzes said he was! Yes this would all be fine soon.