Private Finished Happiness In A Bottle

Deith woke up to the sensation of lingering pain that he supposed had at some point felt worse than it was at the moment. As he opened his eyes briefly, finding themselves on a strange ceiling, he recalled about what just happened and where he most likely was.

He was an idiot for missing the lady owner's gut when he attacked her. Then again, it seemed like he was cornered anyway, and something in his head had been telling him that this was a mistake.

He was an idiot for that, too.

Making a low groan of pain, he tried to sit, only to get held back and to fall flat against the bed once more, making him realize he was bound. Of course. If he was where he thought he was, there was no way they hadn't bound him somehow. He was lucky it was just handcuffs.

Knowing that, he pushed his whole body closer to his left hand before pushing himself up to sit. He could still feel pain from some minor injuries probably, but he was quite confused as to why he didn't have worse ones, considering he had passed out.

He scanned the room to look for anyone. Even the lady owner was fine. "What the fuck happened to me?" he muttered.

The bar was going to kill him? He's never heard of such a thing, but he did remember those shitty iron bars that ruined everything. As he listened, Deith looked like he was having a hard time trying to understand what the lady owner was saying, as if he was confused and something was wrong and he was deeply thinking about it. His eyes were cast down, but they met the woman's once more when she mentioned he was on her bed.

He looked at the handcuff binding him and tugged at it. "Am I, now?" He smirked a bit, "Not my fault, but I guess I should thank you for not beating me up dead and patching me up instead."

That confused him even more. He didn't really mind getting beaten up to death; he wasn't human so fights wouldn't normally kill him anyway. So he was very suspicious of that glass she was handing him, and even though he took it, he looked at it like it was indeed poison. "I don't believe you," he told her. "But even if it is poisoned, eh."

With that shrug, he downed the liquid in one go, and looked at her as he waited to feel the liquid's effect on him-- whether it really would take away the pain or make him suffer.

...He waited, but the pain didn't worsen; it faded.

"Wow, I guess it really wasn't poison. So..." And so there came the confusion once more. "I'm sorry, I made a mistake it seems. I wasn't told about... anything I saw in your bar. Which means your bar wasn't where I was supposed to be. Not that it matters now. So why-- exactly-- am I still alive?"

This was... This was weird. If Deith were the lady owner, he wouldn't spare his own life after what he did. Sure, there weren't any major damage, but the fact that he tried to do something was already enough merit for giving him some merciless punishment.

Deith felt like he owed them for not giving that punishment, and owing someone felt too weird for him. He didn't know how to deal with it, or how to react or how to look like while he watched the owner's face. He also had no idea why her face was so red.

"I've... made your night?" he asked slowly as he took the glass of alcohol again. As he had said before, he didn't care if it was poisoned. So he laughed at her joke, even though he wasn't entirely sure if it actually was one. The liquid felt warm down his throat. It helped relieve his sore body, just as she said. "So... You said I might be useful. You're saying I should, I don't know, stick around?"

He didn't mind if she said yes. After all, he hated owing people.

And... she said yes. Deith pulled his left hand up trying to scratch his head, but it got caught in the handcuffs and Deith remembered he was bound. He took another shot of the liquor, and the warmth of it spreading across his body has gotten him even more than relaxed or relieved; it felt good. Just how good he can't tell; he was a bit out of it to think too much.

Somehow, though, he managed to answer her questions. "Not forced," he said, "but I didn't choose to have them either. I died and... some demon resurrected me as one of them because they liked me... the sinful human me."

This was weird. Why were they getting all sentimental and quiet now and the atmosphere was weird and they were suddenly so close...

He owed her his life? Technically no, technically yes, but it was true that he owed her. So he let himself flow with the situation, and leaned forward to reach her lips with him.

He was still bound anyway. He was completely at her mercy, at least for the rest of the night.