A surge of sudden, instinctive panic snatches me away from my sleep. I wake with my heart drumming in my ears just before something crashes onto my stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs.
Whatever it is, I don't know.
'Cause pain is the only thing I register after snapping my eyes open.
My poor muddled brain can't process what my eyes are seeing or what my ears are hearing; my mind is too focused on how goddamn painful it is to breathe. The pain's hard to describe, too.
Shit, can I even breathe properly right now…?
No, I don't think so. It feels like the air gets stuck in my throat, refusing to go down further. I have to take another deep breath before it seems to unclog, and I feel the muscles constricting my rib cage relax. It's still painful, however.
"Fuck—"
"Father says you're not supposed to use bad words!"
The soft voice of a little girl stops me mid-sentence, and I lower my gaze, blinking at the small demon sitting on my belly. Her full weight's pressed down on my stomach.
Here's the culprit.
But who the fuc—oh, right.
My groggy mind's finally getting back on track.
"…Ellena."
It's her name, right?
"Yes!"
"Can you get down, please?"
"Eeeeeh, why?!"
'Cause you're freaking heavy! Not like I can tell her that. I don't want to deal with a crying fit first thing in the morning. I'm drowsy and in pain, but not yet dumb.
"Never mind."
Better to accept my fate than struggle in vain. Demons tend to be heavier than humans, something to do with their metabolism, and she's in full-blown demon form this morning, so no matter how small and cute she looks, she currently weighs a ton.
Alright, maybe not a ton. That's exaggerating a bit.
She's still heavier than I, a grown-up adult male, though.
"Not fair!!"
Ah darn, here comes the little brother.
Another crash, and again, the air gets knocked out of my lungs.
"Good morning!" Elois smiles, sprawled atop me. He has tackled my chest, while Ellena's still sitting on my stomach. "Father told us to fetch you. It's breakfast!"
Fine. I admit, the kid's smile is sweet. He's even got two cute dimples. But he's as heavy as his sister, and, as a human, I need to breathe. So, I gently push him off, trying not to scowl. He doesn't want to, giving me puppy eyes.
Urgh, why are these two so clingy?!
And what the hell is wrong with their father?! I'm basically a stranger to these brats! Why is he—well, I guess they're demons. It's not like I can do anything to them. No, in fact, they're the ones crushing my bones and bullying me.
"…What's for breakfast?"
I try to distract them, and it works. It gives me enough leeway to get out of bed as they're now bouncing around, enumerating what they think might be on the menu this morning. It soon descends into bickering, as Elois wants some kraken tentacles, whereas Ellena is in the mood for some griffin meat.
You know what? I haven't heard anything.
***
The dining room is big, as expected. However, it's still cozy.
The kids ignore the wide table and instead drag me to something similar to a kitchen island. Their father's already there, sitting on a cushioned stool with a backrest. There are three other identical stools by his side, lined in a neat row. I guess that's where we're supposed to sit.
"Here!" Ellena waves her hands before patting the stool in the middle of the three unoccupied ones. "Sit here!"
Can I say no? I don't want to sit between the kids. I can already tell they're going to be all over me, for some reason, and I won't be able to enjoy my breakfast in peace. But it's not like I have a choice. Her sparkly eyes make it impossible for me to say no.
Besides, I've got to scurry up those brownie points with the children, too. There are only two days left before their mother comes over, as we got married in the middle of the week 'cause who cares about Jordan's working schedule. If I want these two to give her a good review about their new stepdad, I'd better be on my best behavior and play along.
Yep. I'm not taking any chances. I'd rather be in their mother's good graces than make an enemy out of her, thank you.
"How was your sleep?" Jordan asks as I sit, and the children jump on their stools, their little legs dangling. These two are oozing happiness, and I sure as hell don't get why. "If the mattress or the pillows don't—"
"They're fine," I cut him off, glancing at him over Elois's head. He's sitting between us. "And my sleep was fine, too. Thank you for asking."
Jordan gets the cue and responds with a smile and a nod. He doesn't try to make small talk again. Instead, he turns his attention to his children, asking about what kind of dreams they had last night. I do feel a pang of guilt. But right now, I just can't entertain him with mundane chit-chat.
It feels too off, too strange.
…Not like the kids care about my feelings, though. Ellena's quick to include me in the conversation again. She adopts a serious air as she looks at me and her father right into our eyes. She has put the fork and the knife down, adjusting the little apron anchored on her collar.
A bad premonition twists my bowels.
"So, Elois and I were talking last night." They share the same bedroom, from what I've gathered. "And we've decided! Father's gonna be Father, and our new dad is gonna be Dad! You have to remember! When we say Father, we mean Father, and when we say Dad, we mean Dad!"
I spit out the mouthful of orange juice I've just taken right back into the glass—my breakfast consists of human food, unlike the weird things the kids are eating this morning. Whatever. Ellena's declaration has made me momentarily forget about the wriggling food on her plate; there's a much more pressing matter right now.
Dad? They want to call me Dad?! Heck, no!
But can I even refuse?!
Because, seriously, saying that the demon underscored his kids' eagerness about getting a new dad yesterday would be an understatement! And when I glare at Jordan in reproach, he pretends not to see me. You little…
Dude, your kids are going too fast, way too fast!
I'm not even sure they know my name!
"Dad, are you ok?" Elois asks, tugging on the sleeve of my pajama.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just not completely awake yet."
A little white lie doesn't hurt.
So, I wipe the juice off my chin and smile at the boy. He brightens and goes back to eating whatever the heck his breakfast is. The things look like wriggling tails of some sort of demonic beast. Not exactly that of a rat's, but also not quite like that of a lizard's.
…Anyway, let's try to concentrate on my toasts, so I've at least got something down in my stomach to throw up. Just in case I need to make a quick run to the washroom later.