There are boxes piled everywhere. Left, right and—well everywhere, really. Armin looks at it all with quiet unsettlement. He’s not sure what to make of it all. He stares at Eoghan who is surveying the delivery men. Armin can barely get around to look at it all, there are so many boxes that most of his regular pathways are blocked.
“Eoghan, what is this?” He finally asks when the man signs something one of the workers is holding out to him and they leave.
“I know that if I had told you about it, you wouldn’t have agreed to any of it. Part of moving forward and moving on is to leave behind the past. I thought it was about time you had some new furniture in your life.”
Gaping, Armin stares at the taller man for a long moment, trying to wrap his mind around what he was just told. “So you just bought me brand new furniture?”
“Something like that.”
“Eoghan, are you insane? I’ll never be able to repay you for any of that!”
Smiling softly, Eoghan crosses the room easily and stops in front of the slighter man. He reaches out, his fingers brushing the man’s cheek gently. A touch that always sends slight shivers down Armin’s spine. Someone touching him so tenderly is still so new, so fresh after the loss of Andoni. “This is going to fall into the category of my making it up to you for throwing your life habits to hell when I woke up that gift in you.”
Armin stares up at Eoghan for a long time, as if trying to read whatever it was the other man was hiding from him. The ‘price’ for awakening his gift had essentially been paid back. Pretty much when he had been invited to live in this very apartment.
“I wish you wouldn’t keep things from me, Eoghan. I trust you with all my heart, I don’t really want to learn that somehow my trust was misused, I couldn’t handle it.” His voice is soft, low. He closes his eyes a moment and shivers again when Eoghan’s finger brush over his cheek. He blinks at the man’s chuckle and straightens slightly.
“Okay, you’ve got me. But first, let’s open up these boxes, I’ll put most of them up myself with just a little bit of your help, since I ordered it all. Then I’ll tell you why, sounds good?”
Armin nods and smiles faintly. Again he looks at the boxes and he shakes his head. He has a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that someone would go through all this trouble for him. “How did you pick anything? What if I don’t like what you picked? Not that I’m picky, I’ll use it anyway but it’s just one of those questions.”
Chuckling as he works on opening the first box, Eoghan looks around the still mostly bare apartment. The bed and a dresser in the bedroom, a two-person table in the kitchen and a couch and seater in the living room. The most expensive part of the man’s apartment was his shelves of books, filled to the brim. “I know you like books and I know you like your life as simple as possible. So I tried to figure out the best of ways to keep things simple. A bit vintage-like but also a bit minimalist if I could find it.”
Over the course of the next several hours, boxes are opened, flattened and put away. Armin’s old mattress and box frame are set out to be picked up by a group working for a thrift store, along with most of the old furniture being replaced. Where there was no bed frame before, now a simple but lovely antique-looking wooden bed frame. Between the head posts, an intricate maze of metal work. A new box frame, a new comfortable mattress, a new beside table and new dressers.
In his kitchen he find a brand new, though it looks old and worn—he loves it—table that can sit at least four. More than he could ever sit before. His couch, Eoghan proclaimed, was good enough to stay but the seater was falling apart and replaced by a new one that would better support his back after those long days at work.
A brand new desk to read at and do his work in the room he turned into his little work area, a chair more comfortable than he ever has had the chance to know and simply a world of things he never could have imagined as being his. All of them he fell in love with at first sight.
When all the boxes are flattened and put away, his old furniture actually set out in the apartment across the hall for easy pickup by the working crew who would be coming in the next few days, Armin sits on his old couch. There is a couple of cups of tea sitting on the brand new (but oh so old looking!) table and he was waiting, staring at Eoghan. The man had promised him answers as to the reason behind all these new things once they had been done.
Eoghan fidgets slightly, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs. He looks out into nothing for a long moment and looks back to Armin when the man clears his throat gently.
“Do you think that it’s possible for demons to exist? I don’t mean the folks who can be mean and evil, I mean demons, different blood type, live longer than most, heal faster, that kind of thing?” His words are low, uncertain and Armin quirks a brow. He stares for a long moment and cants his head. His lips quirk just lightly, gently, as if he had been expecting that question.
“I don’t know. Eoghan. That’s a bit like asking if I believe in lizard people-“
“They’re a myth.”
Armin blinks once more and stares at him. He sighs, rubs the bridge of his nose slightly. He leans back into the couch before he looks around the bit of the apartment he could see from his spot. All he could see what antique furniture (brand new!) that he could never afford and he still couldn’t understand why.
“I guess I can. Just tell me why, please?”
Taking a deep breath, Eoghan starts to explain the basic of demonhood. Mostly keeping his information to the longer lifespans, the gifts, the way it is handed down and how most people who are gifted in some way are likely to have some demon blood in them. It has been that way since the beginning of time though it usually is a more than well kept secret.
Once he’s done explaining, he looks towards the slighter man, almost afraid of what he might see in those eyes but there is nothing there, nothing more than a hint of curiosity. In those eyes he mostly sees thoughtfulness as the information he has just uttered is being processed.
“Long story short,” Armin pauses, his gaze on the other man. There is no smile on his face and it worries the demon. “If I were to believe in the possibility of demons, which I suppose is there since there is a possibility of fae-folks and dryads and the rest, then I might be part demon? Both my parents were- no, are. They both are mortal humans. I don’t think they would have hidden this from me. So it must come from my grandparents?”
“To be completely honest, Armin, that’s information I don’t have. I could try to dig through your head to try to find out but it could be unpleasant. Some memories from even before you were born are usually imprinted into your brain, it’s how most of our gift comes from. I know this might be a lot to take in and a lot to accept.” He sighs and rubs his eyes. He looks like a man whose whole world has taken a dip to the side and is about to be destroyed.
“You don’t have to believe me but I wanted to be honest with you. I was tired of hiding that kind of truth from you. For now I think I’m going to let you try to wrap your mind about what I’ve told you. Whenever you want to or feel like talking to me about it all, I’m upstairs. I’ll tell you more then, all right? A little at a time.”
“All right. A little more every time we talk, that sounds good.” Armin doesn’t get up to show his friend to the door. Eoghan knows the way well and he knows that Armin needs time alone to wrap his mind around the information he was just given.