How to Turn on The Devil

Chapter 8

(Michaels POV)

Her kiss, her breath, her taste.

I could feel every nerve and emotion in her body.

From the moment we first spoke she was honest, and I liked that about her. It excited me. The way she was so clear, and not in a shallow way. It made her deep. Sometimes I would sit against my wall and hear her singing. I liked the way we talked. It was spontaneous, it wasn't thought out.

She made my blood boil, and I hers. I yearned for the way her fingers grazed my sides. She was so innocent, the way her cheeks would flush when she would think of me, the way she could get like that with me and no one else. I liked it. I liked to spur her on, and hold her face close to mine as we mended together. I watched her every day. The way she read, the way she smiled, the way she planned to find me and hurt me and give me the what for. Her neck smelled of lilac and sweet perfume. Her lips tasted like cherries, filled with blood and poison. I craved it again and again, as her tongue interlocked with mine. When I pulled away for breath she could barely open her eyes, as I tilted her jaw back and held her head whispering in her ear. I knew she liked the sound of my voice. I could tell by the way her heart would beat faster, its pace would increase with every syllable.

>Her mind would beckon me, it would reach into my soul every time she would yell it was like she was starting a fire. A fire against her own soul, how I wanted to devour it. Her back leaned against the banister and the tresses of her hair let loose as the weight from my hips shifted onto her pelvis. I liked feeling her body underneath me, her curves aligned with my shadow, like night and day meeting together and creating ...the apocalypse.

After I pulled away she licked her lips...with that damn smile, it was beautiful enough to make you want to kill yourself. It was clever. Nothing else was said, and nothing else needed to be. She and I turned away and walked to our separate quarters. The minute I stepped into my room I felt it. The obsession...what was this turning into? I felt sick...what was I turning into. I couldn't tell her about this...I couldn't cower down now, not after I had been so weak. Oh, but I am weak after everything she said...and I don't even know how she figured it out. How did she know about who I was? She didn't follow through with her parent's advice. Don't ever trust the survivor until you know what they did to survive, she won't trust me now, because I will never tell her.

When I sat at the vanity I stared at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair. I imagined her sitting beside me, whispering in my ear. Why couldn't she have been there from the start, helping me, telling me my purpose? Is my purpose even with her? I felt angry at her, as if she was sucking my power out of me, and using me, and lying to me. I hated getting emotional. I wanted to slaughter her, and feel every ounce of her blood being drained from her body, but also kill anyone who tried to harm her or got in her way.

I felt so rejected, and I lay down on my bed looking up at the ceiling before feeling an empty space....the ring was gone. I knew she took it now, but I couldn't ask for it back. Hell, I was surprised she didn't even bring it up in conversation.

I wanted to find her again. Touch her again. I wanted to experience everything through her touch, it was the only way I knew how. I wanted to feel her and embrace her and shield her from anyone else, she would be all mine, but I couldn't tell her. Something about the way she stood before me made me want to hide, made me want to hurt her...but I wouldn't hurt her physically. No this would leave a much deeper of a mark.

The cogs in the clockwork of her mind are turning and so are mine. I haven't told Ms. Mead about her, and I don't think I will, but her guidance that I've collected mentally in the previous years will suffice for this. I need to focus on everything. I must get rid of my feelings and keep her as an asset, and most importantly...get the ring back. 

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(Back to Medeya's POV)

My lips trembled underneath him. I could feel the heat, I'm sure he could too. His hands caressed my neck in a way that stimulated every muscle in my body. His lips were so soft but passionate. He kissed deep and unlocked something inside of me that I didn't even know was there. I couldn't even believe what had just happened, I certainly didn't expect it, I think a slap across my face was the only thing I would have expected, even so. It made me grin just thinking about it, and he didn't even say anything afterward. I needed time to process it. Langdon kissed me! As in the psychotic antichrist who would kill me if he wanted to...and it wasn't just a kiss, it was like everything around us didn't exist and the only thing he had on our minds was the sound of lust. The voice in my head telling me it was wrong had been overpowered by the sound of Michael's voice as he whispered in my ear "how bad do you want this".

It consumed me, it made my heart melt into his hands that traced along my jaw.

I stopped to memorize how his eyes looked once he pulled away and departed, and I turned my back so he couldn't see the crimson shade beginning to fill my cheeks, but I'm sure he knew it was there. How is it a man who barely expresses emotion can seem to understand exactly what I'm feeling? Maybe he's pretending, but I was too tired to care...although I knew after that I would have a hard time falling asleep. I had so many question...why did he kiss me...what does this mean...how does he feel, but then I heard a new voice, a voice telling me to shut the fuck up and let everything be. Besides...this world is too cruel for happy feelings. I let myself smile thought, as I lay in my bed that night. Mr. Gallant was mostly out of my mind, and the smell of Michael's cologne still lingered across my chest. I nuzzled into my pillow and felt something sharp underneath me...realizing I still had the ring from earlier in my pocket. I gazed at it before my eyes fluttered shut. It used to remind me of family...but now it reminds me of him.