Convoke - Chapter 19: Chapter 19

The pub was busy for the football match, and locals kept complaining about the lonely demon sitting at a table that could sit at least six. So, to keep the peace, Ezra moved to a stool on the other side of the bar. Locals soon grumbled about how they had to approach a demon to get a drink.
When Ezra tried to move again, Tom ordered him to sit back down and placed another pint on the bar in front of him. "If they make you feel so uncomfortable that you sit outside, I'm turning off all the TVs," he said loudly, and soon enough, the complaining stopped.
To keep Ezra occupied, he grabbed the book by the stacks of glasses that he only ever gave to tourists. "The making of Glass Horns pub," Tom read. "I don't have time to get the one from upstairs. This'll keep you busy." When Ezra wasn't doing something, he was picking at his fingernails and anxiously glancing around, or chewing his lip, or awkwardly smoothing down or tugging his clothes. Occasionally, he would watch Tom pour customers a drink, but he never stared for long enough, in Tom's opinion.
Halftime was a stressful time during football matches when the locals flocked to the bar and deliberately elbowed Ezra and push into him to reach the card machine, or their drinks, or to shout their orders over him. Tom kept a close eye in case Ezra lost his temper. But he did well, and ground his jaw, and pressed his fisted hands hard into the bar to stop them pounding into faces that weren't his.
When everyone returned to their seats and fixed their attention to the screens, Tom asked quietly, "Are you okay? My breaks in five minutes. I'll stand outside with you."
Ezra nodded and was hot on his heels when Tom took his break. They sat under the old oak tree, side by side on the table with their feet on the bench. They faced away from the pub with the thick trunk hiding them from view. "I forgot it was going to be busy today," Tom said, watching two magpies flutter around the same branch.
"It's fine."
"Are you sure? Some of them are total twats and know exactly what they're doing. It'll only get worse the more they drink."
"I can handle it."
"Okay." Tom decided to trust him. "But if you can't, please don't sit outside. It's cold. Feel free to chill in my bedroom now that you don't need to be summoned there. The door's shut and nobody will go in if I'm not there."
Ezra rested elbows on his knees and pushed his knuckles into his cheek as he stared at Tom. He watched him for a while before asking, "Why do you care so much?"
"It's normal to care about friends."
"You cared before you knew me."
"And? What's wrong with that?"
"Nothing, it's just that . . . demons don't meet humans like you very often."
"Well, it's lucky you met me then, isn't it?" Tom said with a chuckle.
"It is," Ezra replied honestly, his earnest expression never wavering. "Very lucky."
Tom explored his deep, dark eyes. The iris was a black bottomless pit with flaking layers of brown shades circling around it. Tom adjusted himself on the uncomfortable wooden table. When their legs touched for a brief second, the dark bottomless pits expanded.
Tom looked away with a thumping heart. Had his eyes done the same? Ezra was observant, and his expressive gaze spoke more words than he would ever dare to say out loud. I would love to know what he's thinking. Despite his eyes leaking so much emotion, the rest of him was as blank as a wall painted white. There might be a different colour or texture underneath but chipping it away would take effort. Maybe Tom didn't need to know his past to shape his future. Afterall, a white wall was only white under a white light. Nobody said he couldn't change the lightbulb.
"Come on then, lets go back inside." The rest of the shift went by quickly, but they didn't have to say goodbye to each other just yet. Tom whispered that he would summon him to his bedroom after dinner.
Ezra waited in the bushes, so Tom ate fast and when nobody was looking, he scraped everyone's leftover pie and chips onto one plate and snuck it to his room. He summoned the demon and held the plate up to his chest. "It's still warm."
Ezra didn't object. When Tom returned from doing the dishes, the plate was empty.
"Where do you stay? You know, when you're not watching my back from demons out to get me?" he asked, sitting on his bed opposite Ezra who favoured his desk chair.
"Just around," Ezra said, picking up the thick book of demon crimes and turned to its index.
"Have you got no fixed place?"
"I do."
"Where?"
"Why does it matter?"
"I'm just being nosey." Tom watched him flick through the first few pages before shutting it again.
"I'm not entirely sure that demon crimes will help," Ezra admitted. "I think human crimes would be more relevant."
Tom nodded, agreeing. "Let's have a look in the library tonight. I'm assuming you'll linger outside anyway because of the whole demons following me thing."
"I will."
He smiled. "You know how you asked why I care so much earlier? Well, why do you care so much about me?"
"Because you care too."
"That means a lot to you, doesn't it?"
Ezra looked towards the window. Like the last time he visited, he stared at himself in the reflection. "People stopped caring when . . ." He looked away. "Yes, it matters, just like how it matters to you. It's too easy being alone."
"It is," Tom concurred. "I'm sorry that you've felt alone. It must be hard to avoid when you live such a long life."
"Yes."
Tom didn't want the silence to sit thickly on a heavy topic. "Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?" The demon nodded, sitting up in the chair as if to brace himself. "Have you ever, you know, had a best friend? Or . . . dated anyone?"
"Dated anyone?" he repeated, confused.
"Like had a girlfriend or a boyfriend?"
"Oh . . . not exactly." Ezra avoided Tom's face when he asked, "Have you?"
"Yep." Tom didn't fancy diving into why he was single.
"You've lived such a short life compared to me, but you've experienced more."
"I think that's because we have such a short life; we're more eager to get things done while we have the time. I was just curious anyway, that's why I asked. I'm trying to get to know you since we're friends and all." Tom grinned when Ezra stared emptily at the way he said friends. "You've got lifetimes to experience being with someone."
"But I'm with someone now."
"No, I mean like loving someone. You know, like a girlfriend or a boyfriend."
"Oh." Ezra's cheeks had slowly turned pink the longer their conversation continued. "Like I said, it's too easy being alone." He checked his watch and stood up, adjusting his unbuttoned black denim jacket. "Shall we go to the library now?"
Tom nodded, hoping he hadn't embarrassed Ezra too much. Part of him had expected the demon to have a past, to have people he had once loved, or people who once meant a lot to him, or even other demons who might still mean a lot to him. But being a demon was a solitary business, especially being a soul stripper. He hoped that one day, if someone else asked Ezra the same questions, he could think back on their friendship with a smile.
Tom snuck out the back door, and Ezra quietly appeared next to him on the country road. They walked side by side, often bumping shoulders. Tom felt safe next to him, despite the darkness and the large empty fields on either side of the road.
The librarian's house was one street behind the library. Ezra kept to the shadows as Tom looked under three different plant pots before he found a small collection of keys, each with green labels. He unlocked the library door and quickly slipped inside, unnoticed. The smell of books filled his nose, and he loosened his tense shoulders with ease. He locked the door behind him and switched on the lights. All the curtains were closed, so he whispered, "Ezrakhell."
The demon appeared right in front of him, staring down as if he knew exactly where Tom had been standing. "Are you sure you want me to be here? You could get into a lot of trouble if people find out what you're doing."
"And what am I doing? Inviting a demon to read books? That's hardly the crime of the century." Tom chuckled at himself, walking around him, rubbing his hands together. "It's cold in here."
Ezra followed, and they soon branched off into different sections. The main library room had space at the front for six large tables with six chairs around each one. There was a wide corridor in the middle with a long dark green rug against dark wood floors, and fifteen separate corridors between each bookcase.
Tom spent almost thirty minutes in the history section, running his hands along the old leathery books and the new paper ones. Some caught his eye, ones he would read out of genuine curiosity, until he remembered why he was spending an evening in the library.
Ezra had a stack of eight books at a table nearest the first bookcase. His big frame hunched over the nineth one, frowning and chewing softly on his lip, and mindlessly tracing a thumb up and down the scar on his left cheek. The soft light above shone down on him, rounding his sharp features.
Tom's first instinct was to take the seat right next to him. He wanted to sit close, to watch him read, to steal his attention away from the book and plant it firmly onto himself.
Reluctantly, he sat opposite. But the longer he stared, the more he started to realise why his heart was thumping so hard. If Ezra said he was hungry, Tom would go all the way home to get him food. If Ezra said he was cold, Tom would sacrifice his own warmth to stop his shivering. Tom would give up his own bed and comfort if Ezra was tired.
The first time he recognised his feelings for Kimberley was when he travelled for three hours on a coach to spend the last ten pounds that he owned on a cake from her favourite cake shop. And here he was, sneaking around, keeping himself in danger, compromising Haisley's trust, and sitting in a cold library, late on a Monday night because it made Ezra happy.
Shit, he thought hopelessly, taking out his phone and finding Cal's name among his messages. With drawn together brows, he typed, 'Emergency. I think I'm falling for a demon.'