The morning was quieter than usual, mainly because Isaiah had slept through me getting ready so I did not have to deal with us bumping into each other in our rather cramped living space. Had I not seen him bundled up in his bed, I would not have even known he was there. I did feel a slight sense of guilt for having forced him to stay out so late, he must have been exhausted, the guilt however did not compare to the absolute euphoria I experienced that night before. Even if it did keep him away from the room a bit too late, I would continue to ask for that private time so I might wear my dress, though of course never telling him that was what I was doing. Life as a prince already came chock full of its own issues, my roommate spreading rumors about me among the other royals would only serve to make things worse. Still, a part of me wondered, what would he think if he had walked in on me? What would have happened had I not hid from him? Nothing good, I was sure of it, and yet a small part of me could not help but to ponder the possibilities.

 Whatever would have happened hardly mattered though, all I could do was speculate, and speculation only made my brain run rampant with paranoia. So instead of allowing my brain to slip into a panic over literally nothing, I quickly tried to distract myself. For whatever reason I stood there watching him as he slept. Without his eyepatch, he somehow looked different, though I suppose the same could be said for me. There was a cute gentleness to his face that was easy to overlook when he was more animated, but then and there as he was sleeping soundly I could see him in a different light. His cocky rough and tough attitude hid his better qualities perhaps? They do say that everyone is cuter when they slept, but he seemed nearly angelic laying there. His shaggy hair framed his face in an almost gentle way when it wasn’t tied up to the side. Honestly it was not so different from mine, not just because we both had silver hair, but because we wore it longer than school regulations allowed. Perhaps that was the only way it was like mine, but still, I was glad to know I was not the only boy who preferred to keep their hair so long. Time had been slipping me by as I just casually observed my sleeping acquaintance, taking in every small detail I normally did not see, enough time that the warning bell suddenly rang, stirring him awake.

“Crap I overslept!” He sprung up from bed, his eyes open wide in panic.

“Your eyes…” I stared in disbelief as he sat there blinking the sleepiness away, looking at me with a doe-like gaze, his right eye visible to me for the first time since we had met.

“My eyes?” he reached up to his face then cursed again, before covering the wrong eye.

“Your eyes are, your eyes are just like mine,” and so for the first time in years I removed my own eyepatch in front of another person, showing him my secret eye.

“One pink… and one blue,” he chuckled, “so you’re cursed too huh?” It was true, I was born with a curse, one that gave me silver hair and mismatched eyes. A detail I had lied about prior, but lying about it was of little use now. “Guess we are both demons,” he laughed some more, “what the hell kinda odds are those, right?” A warm bright smile stretched from cheek to cheek, brightening up his face, “I never met another demon before, except my mah. So I guess I mean another demon my age then?”

“A demon?” I tilted my head.

“What, did no one ever tell you?” He stretched as he got out of bed and placed his hand on my shoulder, “eyes like ours means we are an ‘affront to the gods', at least that’s what everyone's told me my whole life.”

“So then, I am a demon?” I was always told to keep my eyes a secret, to wear my patch and never tell my secret to a single living soul, but no one had ever explained why. A curse, that is all I knew it as, a hex that brought me misery and shame. 

“Well, better put our patches on and get goin,” he sighed, reaching for his eyepatch on the writing desk, “looks like I won't have time to do my makeup, damn I hate sleepin in.”

“Huh?”

“That was the warnin bell right? Gotta hurry before they stop servin breakfast.”

“Oh, right…” 

He put on his eyepatch, tied his hair to the side, then flashed another friendly grin, “C’mon Bonbon!”

“Right,” I had been so distracted by everything else I had not even noticed he slept in his uniform, convenient I suppose, but still very odd. Just what was he doing out so late into the night?

We left the dorms and went our separate ways, questions nagging at my mind that would have to wait. Was he serious about us being demons? Surely not, it had to be a joke. Still it was interesting to know that there was another person out there like me, even more so that they would be my roommate. Was this a joke from a goddess? Some cosmic prank by a celestial jester? Intrusive thoughts clouded my mind in a thick fog of “who, what and why’s” till half the day had already passed.

During our lunch break I sought him out, searching high and low till I found Isaiah sitting in solitude underneath a tree in the courtyard. He was munching away on an apple blissfully unaware of me standing over him.

“Isaiah, would you be willing to talk with me for a moment?”

Choking on a chunk of his apple, he pounded on his chest before responding, “what’s up, Bonbon?”

“It is about what you said this morning, about us being demons. Were you telling the truth?”

“Tch, not really the place to talk about that,” he clicked his tongue, “you really wanna know more about it?”

“I do,” I nodded, “I have spent my whole life wondering why I was so different, if you have the answer then please tell me.”

“Well damn, that puppy dog look is too cute to say no,” he said, causing me to blush, “if you really wanna talk about this can it wait till we’re outta classes?” 

“Fine, I will wait,” I pouted, “I have waited fifteen years, what is another few hours.” 

As I walked away I was pretty sure I heard Isaiah say, “dammit you're so cute,” though I could have certainly been mistaken.

Three more classes to go before I would get my answers, three more agonizingly long classes. This being a school which nobles, royals, and those seeking to join the Shepherds attended, many of the classes focused on either religious or political subjects. They wished to prepare our young minds to be the future leaders of our prospective nations, something I had very little interest in myself. I could not remember now what the lectures were even about or how long they had lasted, I just did not care. Truthfully there was no future in ruling for me, not one where I would be happy at least. My chest burned and my throat constricted with each haunting thought that I might one day be crowned king of Frencetta. I resent my title as crowned prince, both that I am crowned and that I am a prince. 

As the thought crossed my mind, I had a moment of clarity. I had always known I hated it, but in that moment I began thinking not that I hated being ‘the’ prince, but I hated being ‘a prince', a notion my mind wrestled with trying to comprehend the meaning of. What was the significance of those worlds? The jumbled mess of effort my mind put into trying to decipher the meaning of those words was enough to distract me through several lectures until at last I only found rest from my mental gymnastics through the glorious sound of the dismissal bell.

Yes, just like that three classes had gone by and I was no closer to understanding myself, though I suppose if it only took a portion of a day to know oneself then you would truly have to be a shallow individual. I am not shallow, or at least I would hope that I am not. So while I had no answer as to what I meant when I said “I do not wish to be a prince”, I could at least learn what Isaiah meant when he told me that I was a demon just like him.

Isaiah was often the first one to leave class that day being no exception, meaning I had to push through a herd of other boys trying to get out the door, just so I could barely keep up with him. Honestly, I do not know why I had tried so hard to match his pace, given that we had shared a room and I already knew his destination. Still, I found myself chasing after him regardless, till I had gotten enough room to run and catch up. Perhaps I was trying too hard to stay behind him, something I indeed paid for when he came to a sudden stop that I was not prepared for.

“Watch it will ya!” he barked, turning around, only for his tone to immediately shift, “oh crap, it’s you. Sorry ‘bout that, Bonbon.”

“No, I am sorry, I probably should not have followed you so closely,” I apologized as he helped me back to my feet.

“You can follow me as close as you like,” he chuckled awkwardly then shook his head, “I mean cause like we had plans anyways right, I shoulda expected you’d, ya know, I mean we’re goin to the same place, right?”

There was a certain display of cuteness and charm whenever he got flustered like that, a charm I certainly was not immune to as evident by the way I began blushing again as I giggled along with him. It was a sweet innocent moment that would have otherwise been nice, had another student passing by decided not to rudely comment on our interaction with a rather indignant, “get outta the way fags,” thusly prompting Isaiah into a rebuttal. 

“The hell you say? You wanna try sayin that to my face?” I had hoped that the other boy would ignore him, that he would keep walking and this would be over, that of course did not happen.

“I was just saying that you and your little boyfriend need to stop blocking everyone's path, but if you need me to speak in simple terms your commoner brain can understand, I’ll dumb it down for you,” there were no simpler terms he could use. It was a silly and pointless spat that would have simply been resolved with inaction, Isaiah of course did not agree with that ide, “get outta the way, faggot.”

“Maybe if your pompous fat ass wasn’t so big you wouldn’t need us to move outta your way,” body shaming of course is wrong, though I do not think Isaiah would care to listen to me lecture him about that then and there.

Having been thoroughly instigated the boy grabbed him by the collar and shoved Isaiah into the wall, immediately attempting a follow up attack that perhaps could have succeeded had Isaiah’s foot not shot up into the attackers groin, “you little coomguzzler!” he exclaimed, doubling over with his hands over his crotch, “who the hell goes for the balls?” He groaned out in pain, barely being able to speak through labored breaths.

“What’s wrong, never fought a peasant before? It’s nuts or nothin buddy,” Isaiah taunted as he dusted off his jacket with a smug grin. He lacked decorum and restraint, I was honestly shocked to see how quickly he resorted to violence, to fight such a needless battle with such boorish tactics. “Come on Bonbon, let’s go,” and just like that he was finished? It was like the other person ceased to exist in his mind the moment the battle was won. I watched as Isaiah simply walked away while the other boy curled up on the ground in agony. It was honestly pretty horrible. Though, it was also kind of hot. I should not say that though, I do not condone such violence after all. Still, perhaps I envied how he was able to stand up for himself, even if his methods were a bit unorthodox.

What? No, I was not enamored by his unruly display of violence! It was tactless, barbaric, uncalled for. All the boy did was call us a slur, one that did not even describe us. The boy was rude, for certain, but rude enough to provoke a fight? Then again, I do suppose he threw the first punch, well shove, but still he was the aggressor. Internal moral quandaries and other odd feelings could wait though, I had questions that needed answers. 

Following Isaiah back to our room, I left the incident behind us, physically and metaphorically, and immediately assailed my roommate with as many questions as I could think of. “Were you born with those eyes or did they change to be like that? And by demon, do you mean enemies of the gods, actual demons, or monstrous beings people do not understand?” There were many more questions I had, but of course he could only answer one at a time.

“Chill, chill, Bonbon,” he placed his hand on my head and lightly rustled my hair, “relax a moment and lemme process your questions, okie?”

“Okie,” I nodded, feeling oddly soothed by his pat on my head.

“Good boy,” he chuckled, “I was probs born like this, both hair and eyes, though maybe it happened when I was a kid,” 

“You do not know?”

“I was an orphan so like I don't exactly know a whole lot about my childhood to be honest,” he gave a fake little laugh, “but I’m like fifty-two percent sure that I was born this way.”

It was likely he made up a number, though I suppose that did not matter. Come to think of it, he had mentioned being an orphan our first night together. Regardless I followed up with my next question, “and what about the demon thing? What did you mean?”

“That rare genetic condition we got, it’s not really a condition, it’s a curse. Or at least that’s what people say,” he began to explain, “they call it the ‘devil’s mark’ where ya get odd lookin eyes, often mismatched like me and you,” he took off his eye patch, showing me his eyes once more. Just as I had seen that morning, there was a pink eye and a blue eye, mirroring my own. In turn, I removed my eye patch, and we stared into each others eyes. Never had I thought I would meet someone like me, let alone become roommates with them against my will. Perhaps this was the goddess’ way of showing mercy on me, after years of hiding myself from everyone. Could I now be open and true with this new friend, this boy who shared my secret? These were the thoughts that bubbled inside my mind as we were locked in each other's gaze. “Goddess damn, that actually looks really cute,” he disturbed our momentary silence, catching me off guard.

“Cute? Wait, you mean me?”

He stammered, “oh, uh I just mean, like ya know cause pink is a cute color and it looks cute with the blue too. So like, it’s not that I think you’re cute, just your eyes are cute,” how many times would he become flustered in one day? A part of me wanted to try and see, to actively find ways to fluster him.

With a devilish grin I replied, “your eyes are really cute too,” and as intended I sent him into a panic.

“Wha? You, wait, huh? Really?” his eyes darted across the room as his face shifted through different hues and shades of red, before he forced a cough while banging his chest with his fist, feigning some state of composure, “thanks, but like it’s just a pain, ya know? The eye patch gets really itchy sometimes, and it’s like not the most convenient thing havin your depth perception impaired by one eye always bein covered.”

“Oh believe me, I know, I know all too well, Isaiah,” I giggled, “but if we were to be cursed with something, having pretty eyes is a relatively easy curse to bear.”

He nodded, then shook his head, “I mean there’s the social stigma,” he sighed, “no one wanted to help me growin up, cause I was the demon boy of the streets. I got really lucky that I was eventually taken in by my mah,” he slumped down onto his bed and kicked his shoes off, “I probably woulda died if I spent another year out in the cold like that.”

“I am sorry Isaiah, I am sure that had to be rough,” I stood beside him, placing my hand on his shoulder, “never would I ever know the pain you must have went through as an orphan, but at least I can relate to you in some way, even if it is small like this.”

“Small?” he perked his head up and laughed a little, “you think this is small? You still don’t understand the gravity of this do ya? We’re demons, we’re not human. You and me are the same thing, and the rest of the world hates our kind,” he practically sang as he spoke, waving his arms to emphasize his point, “mayber there aint no one in this world like us, and we’re here together!”

“Surely there are others like us, how else would you know what we are?”

“Okay, yeah there are others like us,” he corrected himself, “but I betcha there aren’t any others in this school, or the nearby city either. Hell there may only be one of us for every thousand ‘normal’ people.” Honestly I was unsure how real those numbers were, it was true I had never met anyone like us, though to be fair I lived my whole life inside the castle. Still I was glad to see him smile, he was happy about this, even I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips. He was right after all, we were not alone anymore. “Listen, Bonbon, we didn’t exactly start off great but like, let’s forget all that okay?”

“I will admit I was not the most enthused when we met, nor was I pleasant to you. If you are willing to forgive me, then I too am willing to move forward,” 

“Good, good, so then we’re friends, right?”

I nodded, “I certainly would like to be,”

“So it’s settled, Imma watch your back and I’ll keep you safe no matter what, okay?”

“You do not have to go out of your way to protect me though, Isaiah, just your friendship is enough for me,”

He shook his head and stood, striking a pose as he pronounced it, “No way is that enough. This is like a once in a lifetime meetin, some kinda fate, ya know? So, I’m promisin this to you now. I, Isaiah Snowdrop, am gonna stay by your side and protect you forever!” He declared it so boldly, there was nothing more I could say in protest, I simply accepted it.

“Very well, and I will cherish you then, my friend,” we smiled at each other, and laughed. Only hours later when I had been laying in bed had I realized I never actually got any concrete answers to my questions, however for the time being I was content.