Sympathy For The Devil - Pete Davidson {FINISHED}

1.2

edited <3

pierce the veil - stay away from my friends

      "A motel?" I stared up at the rotten building that was probably the only building in this desert that we've been driving in. The air was thick and hot, something I've learned that I heavily despise since it mad my skin feel not like my own skin.

      You would think that the place would be abandoned but it wasn't, there was a miserable looking man inside looking tiresome at the front desk. He barely lifted a smile when we walked up to him, I don't blame him though, it's too hot here to be happy.

       "Room for two." Pete's voice carries out through the room as I glance around at all the torn up artwork on the walls. It probably was a beautiful place at some point in the universe, but it surely wasn't now. Pete's hand rests on the lower half of my back slowly guiding me outside where a number of rooms resided clustered together.

      It wasn't that far of a walk and not that hard to find since I doubt many souls or demons were deciding to stay in places like this. The door was a mint blue with a few chipped spots revealing a silver underneath it as well as the walls were a plain white. There were no art on these walls, only tears.

      "I thought we couldn't sleep?" My hand trails over the comforter on one of two beds, the fabric being rough against my skin. It was a red scratchy fabric that I could only imagine would be warm to be underneath at night.

       "You can't. Though I could help, powers and all." I turn around to face him only to see the infamous smirk on his face. The smirk that's always on his lips whenever he's around me.

      I do admit that at most times I only imagine about being able to dream again. A way to escape from my mind and reality. When I was alive it was one of the few things I looked forward to doing the moment my day started. Being able to escape your placement in the world and go somewhere else always fascinated my small human mind.

       The bed's comforter wrinkles the moment I sit down on it as Pete joins across on his own bed. There was nothing entertaining in the room, not even a television. There's only one reason people would come to this sort of place and to be fair, if it were to happen, I wouldn't stop it.

      He sits there. I sit here in my thoughts. He glances over. Silence. My mouth opens but no words come out. So he takes over my thoughts once again. Silence until there is none.

      "If you want to go back at anytime, you can just tell me." His voice comes out shy-like, barely quiet but barely there. He was so polite and nice.

      "Thanks, but I don't think I want that though." I lean back flat out on the bed with my eyes staring at the yellow stained ceiling. My hair was pooled out framing around my face when he stands up and walks over to my laying body. His hand very ever lightly touches my skin, outlining it like a drawing. His finger stops at the base of my mouth where he presses his index finger against my bottom lip. Our eye contact never once breaking.

      The gesture was soft but as well tender, one you would expect from a lover. A hidden lover. Forbidden. The sort of forbidden that was taunting that no matter how hard you tried, you get reeled into it every time.  The feeling was nothing new to me.

      And just as soon as it was there it was gone.

      I lean back up as he backs away with what seemed to be a conflicted mind. 

      "Have you ever been to the real world? Like Lust has?" His eyes flickered from me to the ground.

      "What?" He shakes his head as his hand runs through his short cut hair. "Sorry. Yes, I have."