Sable shrugged. "Honestly, if you don't want the couch, I understand. Just...If I sleep on the couch, I'll end up on the floor, and a sore me is an irritable me who can't fight as well as he should."
"Oh, no...it's not like that," she said, a bit flustered that he'd think she wasn't actually fine with the couch, or that she was trying to displace him. "It just reminded me of something my brother would've said. I have no intentions of stealing your bed," she assured him.
Sable shook his head. "Just most would jump at the chance to sleep in the bed, sharing or not. Of course, among my kind, if someone agrees to share a bed with you, they either want to mate or kill you in your sleep..."
She raised a hand to her face in an attempt to hide the crimson creeping upwards. She had kinda figured as much, but she was still unprepared to actually hear it being said, and in turn have to respond. "Yes, well...I certainly don't have any intention to kill you...and, er, mating, doesn't quite appeal to me at the moment, either..." She said quietly. "Not that your I dislike you or anything, but..." She stopped, not wanting to continue in her awkwardness.
Sable couldn't help but smirk, giving a slight chuckle. "I'm going to assume humans aren't as blunt then..." He sighed, sitting. "I have no intentions of doing either to you, and since you're nothing like us, I'd trust you not to doing such to me."
Watching him in the corner of her eye, she tried to recover. “Well…some humans are. We’re all a little different, I guess,” she fiddled with the glass in her hand, glad it gave her something to do. “Yeah…you don’t have to worry about me, doing that… I kinda just keep to myself…”
"I sense that." Sable's wings fluttered a little. Among his people, males didn't often wear shirts, and he was no exception, but today he was wearing one, and although holes were in the back to let his wings though, it still make them sore where the shirt rubbed them.
“Heightened senses, right.” She finally moved from where she’d been standing, still as a statue, and sat next to him on the couch. Not immediately next to him because, well, he had wings. She tried to think of something to say. “Just out of curiosity, does your kind have a name? Like, how I’m called a human?”
"We've got a billion names. Some our own, some our ancestors', and some the humans. I think one of your favorites is 'demon'." Sable said, shrugging.
“Mmm, it actually never crossed my mind,” she said, “but I could see how that name could fit…With the wings, and the killing, and all that…” She put her cup down and drew her legs up. “I doubt we coined the term specifically for your kind, they say demons live in a sea of fire.”
Sable shrugged. "I think the oldest name for us...was fairy."
She blinked. A…Fairy? Turning to face him, she carefully looked him up and down, a slow smile spreading across her face. It wasn’t long before she burst out laughing, unable to contain her amusement.
Sable frowned. "What? What's so amusing?" He asked, becoming slightly offended as well as annoyed.
She tried to stop herself, taking deep breaths. He was annoyed, she could see that, but she couldn’t help herself. “Sorry,” she said, in between her last little bits of laughter, “I’m sorry, it’s just, you don’t look like a fairy at all. None of you do. Not at all,” she breathed, finally managing to calm down.
Sable huffed. "And what is a fairy supposed to look like?" He snapped, irritated with her for making fun of him and his race.
Suddenly realizing her mistake, she made a mental note to never anger him again. He was terrifying. She reminded herself why she is always too polite and never really opened up to people. This is why. A very extreme reason why. “They—well, fairies are—“she faltered, looking away from him. “They’re…small and…and colorful….weak…” She was proud of herself for her efforts at speaking. “Sparkly,” she added.
Sable shook his head. "Fairies. Pale. Insect-like wings. 'Magic'."
A very brief irritation flowed through her, “Well, if you know what they look like—why are you asking me?” she said, probably the closest to snapping she had ever been. Then her anger faded, as quickly as it came. “Maybe I was thinking of sprites,” she said quickly, but quietly.
"I was asking what humans saw!" Sable growled. "Not what we see. Not what humans once saw. It was a human who gave the description of fairy a very long time ago. It was a human who made that association."
She resisted the urge to cringe at his growl. She didn’t like this at all. Not only was she god knows how far from home, not only was she at the bottom of the food chain, but she was stuck cooped up in a house with an angry fanged butterfly dude. She always knew she was unlucky. “Here,” she said, reaching in her boot. She had a very small notebook and a pencil stashed in there. Just in case she ever needed to record a scientific observation or something. She skillfully drew a picture of Tinker Bell and shoved it towards him. “This is a fairy. Now tell me, do you look like that?”