Paxton was an intelligent demon and although they had their differences - mainly, they traveled in different circles and Ashton wasn't in the market for new friends - the dragon could appreciate that he may have met his match. At chess. Not that he'd ever admit to Paxton how close he came to beating him every time they played. That would just inflate his ego and deflate Ashton's. The black dragon chose his words with care, his compliments with absolute fragility, and words of affection with only one boy.
Today that would change as the spell gone bad settled over them. Ashton looked up from the knight he had his finger on - black, of course - and eyed Paxton. He'd been getting this strange sense about the demon, as though he knew him so well already and it was foolish and made no sense, but Ashton couldn't deny the familiarity his soul responded with when their eyes met across the checkered board.
Ashton moved his piece, feeling strangely as though Paxton's gaze was undressing him. And it wasn't making him furious. "Your move."
Elegant fingers curled under his chin and Ashton sunk down into his seat, long limbs stretching under the table. His foot bumped against Paxton's, but Ashton didn't move it, simply watching the demon for his reaction. Ashton, meanwhile, grumble-hummed about being hungry. His own gaze was hungry for something other than fresh red meat.