Haley Thistle
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Monster March: Amadou the Gargoyle
🕑 Added 2023-03-10 19:00:02 +0000 UTCFemale Reader x Male Monster
Many years ago, the building you work in was renovated by an eccentric man who liked to collect supposedly ‘cursed’ items. He had the building’s exterior made up to mimic old cathedrals, so there was lots of stonework involved. The building was a stark, dark grey thumb sticking out among the rows of glass and brick on either side. Part of his collection was also mounted on the building facade - a wide array of gargoyles and grotesques.
The building has remained largely untenanted for a long time because of its exterior. Not many people want to run a business out of a supposedly cursed place. Eventually, the owner started filling it with his own businesses - a laundromat in the basement, a cafe on the ground floor, a fashion design studio, a non-profit charity organization, an app development house, a makeup company, and finally a newspaper, which is where you work.
Since the paper is fairly new, it initially had to experiment. For a while, it only did feel-good stories for a world oversaturated with bad news. Then for a time, it focused on debunking popular myths. Now, the paper is leaning towards investigative work.
Recently, you’ve been between writing assignments. The previous week you traced stolen artwork from the local museum to the home of a billionaire businessman in the area. He claimed he was unaware the artwork was stolen and, as he put it, ‘donated’ the stolen artwork back to the museum. It bothered you that’s all you got out of the work you put into it, not to mention your editor told you to stop digging once you figured out where the paintings had originated from.
You’re going through old unsolved cases now, after having written another puff piece between your preferred projects. You glance up from your laptop, lean back and glance out the window. There you see your favorite coworker.
You open the window where there is a small terrace of black iron. Hanging off the corner of the building is one of the bigger gargoyles of the whole collection. You like to call him your coworker, since he’s always by your desk and always there to listen.
“Good afternoon, Amadou,” you sigh.
Amadou is a beastly-looking figure with his shoulders hunched forward, arms straining as he holds onto the ledge so his muscles pop with sinew. His mouth gapes open wide to admit the gutter that drains water from his throat. His wings flare out, hugging the wall of the building. His huge hands and long fingers coil around the small ledge he is perched on, while his feet press back against the wall.
You remove a coffee cup from the ledge and dump out all the rainwater within. “Need a refill there?” You place your untouched mug of cold coffee next to him, then sigh as you stare out into the distance.
“What do you think, Amadou?” you murmur. “Should I continue on that piece about these supposed hero sightings, or should I do another round of interviews at Hephaestus Academy? That new kid Spite is getting attention again. Maybe him?” You look up at Amadou and his strained, horrified expression.
“Yeah, you’re right,” you sigh. “I think stories about the academy are played out too. And I’m exhausted with hero puff pieces.” You take in a long deep breath as close your eyes. “What’s that?” You turn back to the stone figure. “You think I should continue looking into those paintings? No? You mean Solomon Savage?”
Amadou glares beyond you, not moving, not speaking. Part of you wishes he would respond at least once, so you wouldn’t feel so crazy. Or maybe you just don’t want to feel alone.
“But my editor told me not to.” You look thoughtfully back to your desk and drum your fingers on the windowsill. “But he doesn’t have to know about it. It’s always bothered me since I figured out where those pieces in his collection came from. How could he not know?” You look back at Amadou. “You think there is something more there?”
Amadou doesn’t reply.
“Thanks for the pep talk. That’s exactly what I needed.” You slip back inside and go to your desk.
Solomon Savage was an extremely well known figure. He had his own news program for a while before he retired. Now he chairs several projects around the world. He funded quite a few research facilities, as well as a security company. He has an extensive art collection, which is what drew your attention.
Ages ago your father, also a journalist, covered the sudden disappearance of some artwork from a local museum. You watched him work on this project, so you were already familiar with the paintings. Once you saw a glimpse of Solomon Savage’s art collection during an interview, that’s when you jumped at the chance to finish your father’s work.
You weren’t allowed to go beyond covering his donation of the paintings back to the museum, but it always bothered you that an avid collector like Solomon Savage didn’t know the origins of these paintings. You already have a backlog of old articles you could submit for publishing, which might allow you to continue to investigate this story.
On your way home that evening, you stop by your favorite thrift store. It’s one of your destressing rituals to go in and look around. You usually don’t get much, but it’s nice to see what’s new and catch up with the owner. That evening you find an old newsboy hat, and for some reason, it makes you think of Amadou. You also think it would be sort of a cute joke, considering he’s your ‘coworker’ at the newspaper.
The next morning, you come into work and take the newsboy cap from your bag, feeling silly for how excited you are to dress the statue.
“Amadou, I have a gift.” You slip out onto the terrace and place the cap on his head. “Oh, yes, very handsome!” you remark with a smile. You take the coffee cup left on the ledge, fully expecting the old, cold coffee to be filled with bugs and debris. Instead, there’s nothing in it except a couple of coffee stain rings.
You look at Amadou, then back at the mug. “Did you… no!” You scoff, go back inside and set the empty mug on your desk. Someone must be playing a joke on you. You have big plans for that afternoon, so you set to work right away. You want to interview Solomon Savage again. It’s probably a pipe dream now - after all, he’s become secluded after he said he wanted to focus on his family.
You make a call to the same place you did when you were researching the artwork. A woman answers. “You’ve reached Savage Industries, how may I help you?”
“I’m hoping to meet with Mr. Savage again,” you say. “I mean, I have before. I’m the reporter who covered the artwork in his collection that turned out to be stolen.”
“I remember you.” Mr. Savage’s sharp, steely voice comes over the phone.
“Mr. Savage.” You try to remain bright, but you feel chilled to your core. “It’s good to speak with you again!”
“Are you still on these artworks?” he chuckles.
“I just wanted to do a follow-up.” Your throat grows thick as your nerves start to rise. “See what you’ve done with your current collection. Has anything happened since the paintings were identified.”
“Slow news day, I take it?”
“A lot of people are curious, Mr. Savage.” You anxiously tap your pen on the desk. “And I would be remiss if I didn’t follow up on our last interview. It felt quite open-ended to me.”
“Because of you I had to give away some of my prized pieces. I understand it was the right thing to do, but also understand that I am quite aggravated.” Then he starts to laugh. “I joke, of course. Journalists like you are a dying breed. In fact, the whole news field is dying out.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” You glance back at Amadou. For some reason he makes you feel better.
Solomon sighs. “There’s nothing much to talk about, I’m afraid. I’ve yet to replace the paintings, and I’ve been busy with my family all this time. I’ve already told you everything I knew about those paintings. I’m afraid I have nothing else to give you.”
“It doesn’t have to be about artwork this time, Mr. Savage.” You know this might be stupid, but you’re willing to throw yourself into anything at this point. “Perhaps we could discuss something you’d be more interested in.”
He’s quiet for a long pause. “I don’t think so. I have nothing to talk about that the world doesn’t already know. So for now, and hopefully a long while, I don’t have to hear back from you. Have a good day.” The call ends.
You glance at your computer screen and get an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You get up and go, heading towards the museum. The museum director is happy to talk with you about the night the paintings were stolen - at the time, he had been a simple curator at the museum.
It gets late, but you continue your interview. You ask hard questions, making the director think hard about the events that transpired. You take him down the hallways he speaks about from memory. You both run as if chasing the culprits.
Eventually the director has to go to the bathroom, so you sit before the paintings. You study them, thinking about the routes the director told you about. As you’re sitting there, the lights suddenly flicker off.
“Hello?” you call out. “I’m still here!” You stand in the shadows. The only light comes from the dim security lights at each corner. You follow the red glow of the exit sign when you see something move in front of you. It darts across your vision, and you jump back.
“Hello?” you call out again. “Someone is still in here!”
Something moves behind you, and you scream. You drop your phone, which you had been using to record the interview, and sprint down the hall, following the glow of the security lights which flash as you run past them. You hear something behind you, breathing and hissing. It ricochets against the walls, bouncing off them as it follows behind you.
Something’s wrong. None of the alarms are going off. Whatever is following behind you should be setting them off, but there’s nothing! You dash into the main showroom, where a collection of antique jewelry and gowns is on display. In the shadows all the mannequins look like people standing in wait. You turn around. You can’t see what’s chasing you, but in your gut you know it’s still there watching you.
You try to steady your breathing. Reaching into your pocket, you rub the can of mace on your keychain between your fingers. You hear something guttural in the shadows and you pull the mace out, holding it before you.
The sound becomes a laugh, sinister and malicious. You look around, shaking, when one of the mannequins moves. It runs and lunges at you, and you spray it with the mace before it tackles you to the ground. It hisses and spits in your face, and the mace burns you, but you keep spraying it at your attacker.
Suddenly, the mannequin is knocked away. There’s someone else here now. Two of them. You get up from the ground, every orifice in your face burning from the residue of the mace. You get up and try to run away, but you trip and fall, crashing into one of the displays.
Something grabs your ankle and you scream, hearing shouting and fighting behind you. Your ankle is released, and you jump up to run again.
“I’ve got you. It’s safe,” a deep voice says as you’re lifted from the ground. A window shatters, and you’re flown out into the night. You hear the flapping of wings, and you cling to whoever, or whatever, is holding you.
You’re set down upon a roof and you scramble away from whoever is holding you. You can barely make out its shape as your eyes still burn from the mace.
“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” the voice soothes. You notice it has a slight French accent.
“What’s going on?” you stammer. “Who are you?”
“That’s going to be hard to explain.”
You want to rub your eyes, but you know that will make things worse. You ball your fists up tight, trying to focus on the pain of your nails digging into your palms rather than the pain in your eyes and throat. “I’m so sure!”
“You were attacked by Rabid,” the voice says gently.
You spit, hoping to get some of the mace out. “Rabid? The villain? What the hell would he want to attack me for?”
“Calm down and I can explain.”
Your vision is slowly returning. You can see the creature standing before you as more than an amorphous blob. It’s dark grey in color and looks monstrous in size. You see long legs, a narrow waist, and huge shoulders. Is it wearing a cape? Or is that wings? It’s standing in shadow, but the glow of streetlights is between you.
You close one eye and squint the other one. “Step into the light.”
The creature moves into the glow, and finally you can take him in. His large hands, his powerful shoulders, the great big wings on his back, the newsboy cap on his head.
You try to open your eyes wider, but that only hurts them more. You wince in pain.
“Easy now, easy.” The gargoyle approaches you and places his hand on your arm. “Let me help.”
“I must be seeing things! This mace is doing more damage than I thought. It can’t be.” You take hold of his wrist, turning his monstrous hand over to see all sides of it. The long fingers, the sharp nails, the extra nub at the wrist. It’s just like his.
“When you didn’t come back, I got worried.”
You glance up. His face is blurry, but when you touch his head you can feel the horns, the elongated ears, the small, squished nose.
“Amadou?” you whisper in awe.
“It’s me,” he says reassuringly. “I’m here to protect you.”
“Holy fuck.” You use both hands to feel his face. It isn’t stone, but velvety skin that’s cold to the touch. His horns feel like bone, and you feel sinew and muscle as you touch his chest. “Holy fucking fuck!” You pull back in alarm. “You’re THE Amadou? The one on the window? The one I give coffee to?”
Amadou lowers himself and smiles. “I appreciate that, by the way. Do you know how hard it is getting anything, looking like this?”
“Oh!” You press your hands around your head and pull at your hair. “You’re alive!”
“Technically,” he says with a shrug. “Only at night, but I at least have you to thank for that.” He holds out his hand. “Let me take you home. I’ll keep watch over you tonight.”
“I have so many questions!” You blurt out. “This is crazy! You and Rabid? Just because of some paintings?”
“You’ve kicked the wrong hornet’s nest, I’m afraid.” Amadou takes your hand and pulls you back into his arms. He holds you like a princess, and your confused brain stills for a moment. “Hold on tight. I’m about to take off.”
“Take off what?” You turn to look up at him, and he smirks. He flaps his wings and jumps into the air. As you sail into the night sky you cling tightly to him, burying your face in his impressive chest musculature.
Eventually you’re able to lift your head, and you watch the city twinkle below you. As you look back at Amadou, so many questions run through your head, but they go quiet as you observe him. He was always the bright spot in your day. Who knew he was even brighter at night?
Amadou sets you down on the roof of your building. “You’ll be safe here. Too many people live in this building, so there are too many witnesses.”
“For Rabid?” you ask. “Why is he chasing me?”
“I can’t be certain. All that I know is that somehow he and Solomon Savage are linked. I think he’s sent Rabid after you.” Amadou touches your temple and gently tucks your hair behind your ear. “Not to worry. I’m going to watch over you during the evenings. Hopefully, during the day, you’ll be safe.”
You swallow, finding your throat still raw from the mace. “Why only at night?”
“Those are the rules,” he chuckles. “For now, at least.” He takes your hand into his. “It’s a lot to explain, but right now is not the time. I’ll go to your window, get inside and lock all your doors. Don’t answer for anyone.”
“So the gargoyles on the building are cursed?” you exclaim, almost excited. “I always knew there was something remarkable about you!”
Amadou chuckles shyly. “I’m trying to protect you. Now is not the time.”
All you want to do is race up to him and study every facet of his face and body. He’s beautiful as a statue, and he looks even more stunning now. But this is no time to be getting starry-eyed. There is a villain after you.
You wake in the morning, realizing your phone’s alarm isn’t going off. Then you remember that you dropped your phone at the museum, and Rabid probably has it now. You groan, sitting up in bed to see a figure standing at your window.
You walk up to the statue outside, placing your hand on his back. Last night he felt like velvet, but he’s returned to the cold stone you had known for so long. Looking up at Amadou, you see his gaze is focused intensely outside. You don’t remember when you fell asleep, but you must have been exhausted. Amadou stayed all night watching out for you. What will your co-workers think when they find your office building is missing a gargoyle?
You splash cold water on your face and get ready for work, leaving a note taped to Amadou in case you don’t get home before nightfall. Walking into work, you’re on pins and needles. You half expect to be grabbed and ripped to shreds as soon as you walk through the door. But nothing happens, and no one seems to be aware of anything that happened to you.
It’s not until you sit down and turn on your work computer that you finally notice something wrong. The whole computer is wiped. All your research, all your progress, your data and backups - all of it’s gone. The only thing left for you is a document in the center of the home screen. You sit and stare at that document on the screen. “Well, shit.” You click to open it.
“I hope this note finds you well. Just in case you didn’t get the message last night, I think it’s best you give up the ghost. What you will find beyond those paintings is a world you don’t wish to entangle yourself in. If you wish to keep digging, then this note is your last beacon to safety. If you lay low, last night is the worst of your troubles. If you choose to ignore this note, then I’ll be seeing you soon.” After a few minutes of staring, the screen suddenly goes black, and you hurriedly get away from it.
You want to go to your editor to talk about it, but you recall how he insisted you didn’t look any further into the story with Solomon Savage. He could be working for Solomon, or at least being bought off by him. You leave the building, feeling unsafe without Amadou there.
You pass the museum, expecting to see police cars and who knows what out there after the chase last night. You know Rabid bounced off the walls and touched displays without a single alarm going off. Your chase had done a lot of damage, so you expect there to be some sort of commotion. Instead, the museum is closed for renovations. No police cars, no cops, not even a police horse around.
“Not liking this,” you mutter to yourself. You leave, fearing you’ll see the museum director or be spotted by one of Solomon’s men. If Solomon Savage has Rabid, one of the worst villains in the world, in his back pocket, doesn’t that make him a bad guy, too? Then again, you can’t think of a billionaire who isn’t a bad guy in one way or another. Still, having Rabid as your ally isn’t good, especially if Rabid was only following orders.
You decide to go to the only place you felt safe researching Solomon Savage - the library. It’s the only place you can hopefully research anonymously, without leaving a trail. You can go through the archives about him.
Old newspapers reveal that in his student years he was a bright but troubled young man. He excelled in his studies, but had issues with authority and constantly bucked the system. Had it not been for his money, he would have been removed from all the schools he attended.
Later years showed his growing research development business with his partner and cofounder, Dr. Maksim Harlan. The two worked together very closely for years, until one day Solomon disappeared. It happened shortly after they were researching a meteorite crash site. They collected samples, and then Solomon fell off the radar. Most of his work was seized by the government, leaving Dr. Harlan abandoned and without a penny to his name.
You know that name, but only because of your recent dealings with the Hephaestus Academy. Dr. Harlan is a professor there now, working on training future scientists, both super and regular.
You get yourself a burner phone with what little cash you have and call the school to schedule a meeting with Dr. Harlan, giving a fake name and reason for showing up. It’s getting late as you finish scheduling the meeting, and as you step outside a chill goes down your spine. Taking a sharp breath, you quickly go down the street towards home.
You’re almost there when something falls from a tree in front of you. You start to reach for your mace, but it’s not there. The figure rises before you, towering, and then its wings flex.
“It’s just me,” Amadou says gently.
“You scared the shit out of me!” You clutch your chest. “I’ve been on high alert all day.”
Amadou shakes his head. “Why did you even go out?”
You approach him and take his hand. You feel safer now than you did on your own. “I had to know. I couldn’t just sit and stew in it. I also don’t want him to get away with this.”
Amadou scowls. “It’s not safe, and during the day I can’t protect you.”
You frown. “I got myself into this mess, and the least I can do is sweep the mess out from under Solomon’s rug. He’s hiding something, and if he’s hiding that work with Rabid, the world deserves to know.”
Amadou frowns and his ears fold back. “So you’d rather save the world than yourself.”
You shrug. “The world has a lot more problems than I do.”
A soft smile spreads across his face, and Amadou pulls you into a hug. You relax in his embrace, feeling comforted after a long day of having to look over your shoulder for hours.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” Amadou murmurs. “But from this point on, your safety is my job. Try not to get yourself in too much more trouble.”
“You still have to explain to me this whole ‘not being made of stone’ thing.” You wave your hand over his body. “I thought I had just been talking to the wall all this time.”
“It got through,” Amadou smirks. “It was the first voice I had heard in so long. That’s when I was finally able to start waking up. It’s a long story.” He laces his fingers with yours, and something about it feels familiar to you.
“I honestly have nothing else to do between putting my life in danger and fearing for it,” you try to joke.
Amadou nods and takes a deep breath. “Let’s start with once upon a time. Hundreds of years ago, there was a castle on a cliff. It was inhabited by a young queen who had just given birth to her first and only child. The queen’s husband, who was a powerful wizard, vanished during a war, so she wanted to protect her daughter. Over the years, she befriended the beasts who lived in the waters and caves of the cliffs. She made them her knights and guardians, creating one of the most impenetrable fortresses in the kingdom.
“Her daughter grew up to be wise and lovely, but also enamoured with the beasts. She fell in love with one, carrying on a secret affair with him. He would fly her from the roof of the castle to the caves of the cliff. One day, a strange man came to the castle. He was angered by the creatures who had seemingly taken over, and used magic to curse the invaders. He turned them stone, one by one, until he came into the throne room. He revealed himself to be the lost king and insisted on having his kingdom returned to him.
“The queen, seeing her long-lost husband had gone mad, tried to calm him. The beasts had become her friends and confidants, and it was against her will for the old king to harm them. Try though she might to placate him, his anger was so great that he killed the queen. He went to find his daughter, only to discover her love affair with the monstrous knight.
“He cursed them both and all those within the castle. Taking pity on his child, he cursed her to go to neither heaven nor hell, and instead to be reborn. Only then would the curse on the castle and all those inside be lifted, if only temporarily. During the night, they would stalk the earth, turning to stone once the sun rose. I think that…” He stops and turns his head. His ears perk up and he pulls you close to his side.
“Is something wrong?” you whisper.
“Not sure.” His eyes scan the night. “I thought I heard something.” He protectively puts his arm around you. “This isn’t a safe place to be. We should get you home.”
“That can’t exactly be safe, either. Maybe we should hide somewhere else for the night.” You take in the concerned look on his face, and continue walking at a quicker pace. “What happened then? Did the princess get reborn? What about her knight?”
Amadou chuckles. “They must be together again.”
You decide to go to your office. You have a key and can get inside, and there are security cameras that could capture anyone breaking into the building. Amadou flies you up to the roof, where the two of you hide out for the night. You look out over the city as the wind blows through your hair. Amadou takes the hat you gave him and places it on your head.
“Thanks,” you chuckle shyly.
“It’ll at least keep your hair from blowing around.” Amadou leans over the edge. You take in the size of him, his long, long arms roped with muscle. His back arches slightly, with spikes protruding along the spine. You recall running your fingers down those spines until you touched the base of his tail. But you’ve never done that before. Have you?
“This world is amazing,” Amadou murmurs. “All the lights, the sounds - there was nothing ever like this back home.”
“Do you miss it?” you ask.
“It’s sort of hard to remember. The long sleep took them all away.” He stands erect, towering over you again. “I can remember vague things, but mostly what I recall is not the world, but the people.”
“Is there anyone in particular you miss?”
“One person,” he whispers. “But it doesn’t do my mind well to dwell on that.” He looks down at you and smiles. “I’m here now, and my life is starting over. I have to get to know this world and figure out my place in it.”
“That’s brave,” you remark. “Coming from such a different time, and into one so strange, I would be terrified.”
Amadou chuckles. “I think you’d be surprised at what you are really capable of. After last night, I’m sure most people would have locked themselves away or given up the chase. But you’ve only begun to fight.”
“I don’t want a world ruled by men like Solomon Savage, even though it practically is,” you say, “If I can take down even one, all the better, right?”
Amadou takes your hand again. “I’ll help you, even if I am useful only half the time.”
You fall asleep in Amadou’s arms, his wings wrapped around you like a tent. You dream that you’re standing over a cliff and looking out over the ocean. As you step closer to the edge, something flies up from the bottom of the cliff. You look up and stretch your arms out, grabbing hold of Amadou’s hands as he comes in to land. You pull him into your arms, hugging him tight.
“I’m glad you’re home!” You say excitedly.
Amadou touches your face and brushes his finger against your bottom lip. “It has been a long time, my princess. I must get used to you again.”
You wake as a car horn blares through the night and sit up, rising with Amadou. You rub your eyes as he looks over the edge. A second later he’s tackled and thrown back across the roof.
You scramble, jumping to your feet and racing towards the door. A car is thrown, crashing above your head as you unlock it. You careen down the stairs, nearly stumbling and falling several times. From above, someone jumps down the stair shaft and lands at the bottom.
“We just want to talk,” Rabid snarls. His voice is the low, sinister growl of a tiger bearing down for the kill. “Since you don’t want to listen to clearly-written warnings.”
“Someone wouldn’t be working this hard to silence me if there wasn’t something worth hiding.” You turn back towards the door but it slams shut in your face. You scream, and then Rabid is right behind you.
“We don’t know where you found that little friend of yours, but you’re lucky to have him.” Rabid is holding his side, which is oozing deep orange blood. “Had,” he corrects.
You press your back to the door and jiggle the handle. It’s locked from the other side. “How did you know I wasn’t listening?”
Rabid tilts his head up and he chuckles. “You’re not the only one we’re watching.”
“You keep saying ‘we’.”
Rabid lunges at you and you duck, just as the door bursts open and Amadou crashes through. He knocks Rabid over the railing, falling with him down the shaft. You race back out onto the roof and lean over the edge, trying to see if there’s anyone you can call for to help. Instead, a gunshot knocks the hat off your head. You run, ducking back into the building.
Rabid claws up over the railing, hissing in your face before Amadou flies up and grabs him. He flings Rabid outside while you race down the stairs. You dash into one of the offices above the newspaper, head towards a window, fling it open and throw yourself out of it. As you do, Amadou snatches you from midair and flies off with you.
Rabid screams as you fly off. There was no way to win by fighting - Amadou would turn to stone soon, and then you would be left to Rabid’s mercy. Right now, it’s safer to escape and hide than fight.
Amadou takes you to a pier on the coast. You find an old beach house that’s been abandoned to hide in. Once you’re settled, the sun begins to rise.
“You have to be careful,” Amadou breathes. “I can’t protect you once the sun comes up.” He touches your cheek, then smooths his thumb across your bottom lip. “It’ll be alright. Don’t be scared.”
You press a kiss to his lips as sunlight begins to filter through the boarded-up windows. “I’m not,” you whisper.
Amadou moves in for another kiss, turning to stone the moment your lips touch.
“I have my knight,” you whisper. You settle down, resting against his stone form. You should stay awake, you know. Someone has to keep watch. But after such a horrible night, you can barely hold your eyes open. You fall asleep against Amadou, only to be scared awake by thunder.
You feel drips of rain on your face, falling from a leak in the roof, and outside lightning illuminates the sky. You sit up and look at Amadou. He’s still stone, so it means it is still daylight even though the storm has made it dark. You rest against the wall, taking slow, deep breaths, then stand up and go out onto the porch. The ocean is choppy and gray. Small waves are crashing onto the shore, assuring that bigger ones are behind them. The trees dip sideways as the wind blows, and rain comes down in pulsing sheets.
Back inside you hear a crackle like logs in a fire. You turn, seeing flecks of stone flake from Amadou’s fingers as he moves. The stone is cracking and chipping away. You move closer to help, breaking fragments of it away from his face until he takes a breath. He stretches his wings, and debris flies everywhere. Then he stretches out his arms and brings you close to his chest.
“We made it,” he breathes. He looks towards the door and sees the storm outside. “How long has it been raining?”
“I’m not sure. I woke up to the thunder.” You stand and close the door.
“I’m sorry it must be this way,” he grumbles. “I am sure the last thing you want to do is hide.”
You sit back down beside him and take hold of his hand. “Don’t worry,” you murmur. “I’m not giving up, so neither should you.”
Amadou smiles down at you. “You’re far too brave for your own good.”
“That’s why I have you.” You kiss him, pressing close this time. He won’t turn to stone for hours, so you want to make sure this kiss lasts. “My knight,” you whisper to him.
Amadou clutches his arms around you with a soft whimper. “Princess.”
“So it’s true.” You pull back.
“I didn’t want you thinking you had to rely on who you once were,” he murmurs. “You’re you now - alive, beautiful, and stupidly courageous.”
You chuckle and hold his hand to your cheek. “But I remember things. Touches and moments. They’ve all been coming to me slowly.”
“I loved you then,” Amadou whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “So much I cannot describe the pain of waking without you.”
“Don’t cry.” You kiss tears from his cheek.
“These are happy tears,” Amadou sniffles sweetly. “I am not sad at all.” He cups your face between his large hands. “I can hold you again. That is all I want.”
You kiss him, slowly wrapping yourself around him. The heat between your legs grows into a passion that is all too familiar. You remember the cave where you made love. His skin was cold compared to your warmth, and your breath steamed as you breathed into him. His tail would wrap around your waist and he would dip his head to kiss your breasts.
You undress now, removing your shirt so you can press your bare skin to his. His fingers trail up your skin and he nuzzles happily between your breasts. He pushes up your bra, kissing and licking the hard peaks he finds. He nurses, moaning against your skin as the ache in your loins grows.
“It’s been too long,” he pants. “I’m not used to you anymore.”
You kiss him, hurriedly chucking aside your pants. His dick has started to come out of an opening in his groin. It looks like a large navel, but it opens and dribbles with something wet. His shaft is bright pink at the end, darkening to black at the base. The head is slightly pointed, and the curve of the shaft becomes bulbous around the center. It’s glossy and slick, dripping with that same wetness.
He tastes sweet as you kiss him there. The wetness is sugary and lemony in a way that’s pleasant and strange. His long fingers rub your folds, gently squeezing with each lick and kiss you give his shaft. The odd shape makes it hard to suck, so you drag your mouth down the side. He shudders and moans, thrashing his tail as more of the shaft pulses from the opening.
You whimper as his fingers slip inside you, and his thumb rubs against your clit. It’s been a long time since you last had sex. You squeeze around his fingers, feeling them curl inside you. Sitting up, you look into his eyes as you straddle his lap, rubbing yourself against him. You review vivid memories of all the times you made love. The cave was lit by a single torch as the waves crashed against the cliff.
Outside, the storm rages, thunder booms and rain splashes from the windows. “I want you,” you whisper to him. “Before the sun rises, I want all of you.”
Amadou growls low in his throat. “I am yours. I will never belong to anyone else. My princess,” he moans, “take me.”
You accept Amadou inside, squeezing tightly around him. He moans into your ear, gasping for breath as you ride him. His tail has curled itself around your waist while his hands are squeezed around your hips.
You’ve never felt this before, but you remember it from long ago. The bulbous curve inside molds itself to your shape, and every time you move you feel it pulse. You tremble as you thrust your hips, so Amadou arches his. He thrusts upwards into you, making you bury your face in his chest. He snarls and grunts, bestial and hungry.
You lick his chest, gently nibbling until you feel a shudder deep inside. He tilts his head down, kissing you as the shudder becomes a throb. You cry out against his kiss, dragging your nails down his side. Amadou holds you up, keeping you flush against his chest. His wings wrap around you as he cradles you lovingly. He continues to move inside you, slowly pulling out. He sighs heavily, twitching before he lets out a soft laugh.
“So new,” he whispers, “but just like it was.”
You lift your head, kissing him again. “I remembered every moment.”
He kisses you back and smiles. “I promise, this time I will protect you.” Tears trickle down his cheek. You brush them away and he nuzzles his cheek into your palm.
Amadou trembles. “My princess, I’ll keep you safe. I won’t lose you again.”
