“Alright, again.”
“Mammon, c’mon, do I have to? We’ve been at this for hours?”
He clicks his tongue in annoyance, hands flying to his hips.
“Well, we wouldn’t have to be if your form wasn’t so sloppy. So c’mon, arms up.”
You lazily lift them, noticing the extra pull of tension you felt from the overexertion of moving all day.
“Tighten!”
You lock your elbows as best as you can, bawling your hands into fists.
Mammon takes a step back, shifting his hips so one foot took precedent in front of the other to steady himself.
“Now, come at me.”
Honestly, you don’t think you have anything left to come at him with, but talking your way out of it doesn’t seem to be working.
“This is so dumb. Why do I need to learn self defense?”
He gawks at you like the answer is so obvious. “So you can defend yourself? What kinda question is that?”
“Why do I need to know? Shouldn’t my guardian demon always be there to protect me?”, you tease.
He gives you a pointed look, before breaking into his usual bravado.
“Of course The Great Mammon’s gonna protect ya! But what if while I’m kicking one guy’s ass, some other guy comes up behind ya? You need to know what to do!”
You don’t know why he’s so fixated on this, but you assume it has more to do with his recent Deviltube search history of “cool fighting moves” and “sick karate”, then actually being worried about your well-being
“I know what to do. I’d use one of my other pacts to call your brothers.”
“Hey w-what? Those guys? Are ya kidding me? Ya don’t need them, ya only need me!”
“Exactly, which is why I’m going back to my room. My first man’s got it covered.”
You throw in the nickname just as an extra precaution. If you could catch him off guard and turn him into a stuttering mess, maybe he’d forget about this whole thing and you could go face plant directly onto your bed to get some much needed rest.
As you start to walk past him, you’re surprised at the speed of which he grabs your shoulder, pulling you into his arms and locking you tight, your back against his chest.
“See? If ya’d just listen to me, you’d know how to get outta this, wouldn’t ya?”
You wiggle and squirm to the best of your ability to free yourself, but you know it’s no use. He is the second strongest brother.
“Mammooonnnn please,” you whine, trying to crane your neck back to see his face. “I’m tired.”
“I know, on account of you remindin’ me every five seconds!”
You huff and glare back at him, continuing to attempt to jostle free.
“Just break outta this and I’ll let you go for the day.”
It’s all too easy, really, to get one over the avatar of greed. Maybe not for some people, but you seemed to have a special effect on him.
“Fine,” you say, leaning your head back as far as you can in his grasp and leaving a timid kiss to his cheek.
The response is instantaneous.
“H-HEY! W-What was that! Whaddya think you’re doin’?”
He quickly lets go and stumbles back, stammering as he brings a hand up to his face to cup where your lips had just been in disbelief.
“I think I’m going to my room to lay down.”
You start to walk past him as he stands there, dumbstruck.
“Are you coming or not?”
He doesn’t give you much of a verbal response, letting out a quick “tch”, but like clockwork, you find him catching up to you, falling into stride at your side, grumbling to himself, “Stupid human with their stupid cheatin. I outta start chargin’ ya for these lessons.”
