The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

“No, even he wouldn’t do that. And where would he get black water? Vitor, you are very wordy, you really tire. I’m tired of your endless thoughts, questions, you delve into every little thing. Royal Investigator! Enough! Everything! Business before pleasure! Start undressing!”

And Kors, without objecting, began to unfasten his weapon and take off his clothes, folding them neatly beside him.

With a sharp and rude movement, Nik brushed off everything that was on it from the table top. Plates and bottles crashed to the floor.

“Oh! Nik, why couldn’t you just call Verniy to clean it up? Why are you so fond of destroying everything and sowing around a mess?!” Kors groaned.

Nik didn’t answer. He set his bag on the table, which always contained his box of drugs, tools and paints, and never food, much less a change of clothes, and began to arrange the jars on the table with concentration. And Kors couldn’t help admiring his magnificent white mane covering his entire back. Now, in the beautiful black leather pants Kors had given him that hugged his legs and ass like a second skin, and the short vest Kors had also given him, laced right over his naked body, he was incredibly attractive. Maybe from the fact that Kors was on his knees and looked at Nik from the bottom up, but his legs didn’t seem short to him at all, and Nik himself didn’t seem small to him. He had good proportions. And that blond hair covering a black leather-wrapped ass. “Gods! But why does he have such beautiful hair that literally drives me crazy? This is the appearance of a vicious Angel. I can’t think of anything. You’re hot as all your hell put together! Damn you, fucking Nik!”

“I need to change you a little,” Nik said, “you are part of the fist, remember? And you must have all the attributes.”

“And my human son told me there was no fist,” said Kors.

“And you believed him?”

“Well… unlike you, he never deceived me, he always told the truth. I didn’t listen to him, but then, on my own bitter experience, I only confirmed his words.”

“No matter!” Nik threw, and so habitually for Kors, he abruptly turned his whole body away from the table that one of his braids loudly clanged with hairpins on the side of the tabletop. A black faceted bead slid off the cord and rolled across the floor. Nik instantly reacted to this sonorous fractional sound, he lowered his bandaged head, looking at the floor. Seeing the bead lying there, to Kors’ surprise, he bent down and picked it up. Thoughtfully turning in his hands, and, apparently, still managing to compare cause and effect, Nik turned his gaze to his scythe. Seeing that it was disheveled, and the ribbon was untied, he put the bead aside, and to Kors’ even greater surprise, taking the braid in his hands, wrapped the ribbon several times around the fluffy tip and tied it into a knot, straightened it. And then, returning to his instruments again, he took the unclamp, by touch, without a mirror, turned his ring hanging under his nose, and, without taking it out, opened it, strung a black bead on it and closed it again. He twisted his nose ring so that the black bead now hung exactly under his nose.

“What are you doing? Savage!” Kors shook his head.

“Eh?” Nik asked.

“Damn you! You’re hotter than all the pots and pans in your fucking hell!”

Nik froze, obviously not understanding, but then, shaking his head, he drawled:

“Ahh, you keep on jerking off to my appearance… It looks like you won’t stop doing it even if I really do put a bag over my head.”

“But at the same time, will you stay in these tight-fitting pants and a vest on your naked body? Why are you walking half naked in front of me?”

“Damn, am I supposed to wear a cape?! Why don’t you just stop staring at my ass?”

“While you’re in those pants, it’s impossible!”

“You gave them to me yourself!”

“Yes, and they were just ordinary pants, expensive, of good quality, but completely ordinary. Why does everything look depraved on you? Fallen Angel! You desecrate the gift of beauty given to you thanks to me and Inness, you make everything vulgar and dirty.”

“No, I don’t spit on it. I love to dress beautifully. I love expensive clothes, jewelry, and I like to adorn myself,” Nik disagreed, “I appreciate everything, even though you only see my hair, you don’t see a person in me. And you rich true blacks… you just think you have the right to have my hair and eyes and use me as you please!”