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Truthfully, Mage doesn’t care much when the others get into a fight. He doesn’t play mediator like Rem in favor of getting some leisurely entertainment. However, it looks like things were going too far this time.
Urie’s whip cracks against the fallen angel and flings him against the wall. To everyone’s surprise, he falls unconscious. His wings spew black feathers and make a sickening crunch as he lands on the floor. Mage has no doubts that they’re broken.
“Serves him right,” Urie mutters before storming out in frustration. Rem sighs and gestures for Roen to follow. That left only himself in the empty library.
Mage lingers for half an hour but decides to move after seeing no movement from the abandoned figure. He plucks the angel from the ground. Shiki feels small in his arms, his twinky ass almost feather-like itself with how little effort it takes to carry him. There aren’t many places that have enough discretion in the school, but Mage knows one place Shiki often frequents.
Thankfully, none of the other students are in the art room. Mage moves some easels and canvas aside making a little divot where he can lay Shiki down. Perhaps, it is a mercy he wasn’t awake. Mage manages to set his wings right and snaps them back into their natural position. He pins the bones and feathers, content to let Shiki’s healing do the rest.
He could just leave him there, but for some reason, he doesn’t want to. Instead, he gathers Shiki’s head and drags him into his lap. He combs through his hair with his fingers before closing his eyes and waiting. He meditates on why he’s doing this, and concludes that his answer is simply… Nothing.
He has no answer in the end.
Shiki wakes two hours later, groggy and bemoaning in pain as he opens his bleary eyes to meet Mage’s. He forces himself to crawl away from Mage, confusion evident in his expression.
“I hope you’re not looking for a favor. I’m not going to owe you just because you brought me here,” he says.
Mage shrugs. “I know. And I don’t really care. I just wanted to do this. Now that you’re fine, I’m leaving.” He goes to stand, but a hand catches his.
“Wait!” Shiki trembles as he tugs him back to his knees. “Stay. Please. Just a little longer.”
Mage swallows dryly. Shiki’s eyes look watery and ominous in the art room’s dim light. He’s not sure why, but he obliges.
“Only for a little bit,” he says gruffly. Shiki smirks and a crafty tongue darts out and back in.
“So easy, Mage,” he croons. Mage responds by flicking a lightning whip at him.
“Ouchie! That hurts! That hurts! Mage, oh Mage. That hurts~” Shiki shrieks delightfully even as it singes his chest and ricochets into his shoulder up his left wing. Mage can see the pain rippling through his body, and it stirs something inside him to see the blood seeping into Shiki’s uniform. It pleases him. He sits back down again. Shiki giggles and throws himself into his arm. His legs trap his waist, and Shiki rests his head on his shoulder, sighing like he’s sinking into his non-existent body heat.
Mage takes it in stride. “You get one more hour,” he warns. Shiki hums and takes a deep breath, inhaling his scent.
“One hour it is,” he says.
Even demon hearts can be a fickle thing.