Bloodflood

11

"Everyone, out," Azazel demanded, a grimace on his face as his eyes moved through the unsuspecting bodies. No one moved but the tension was almost cold. I felt a shiver crawl up my spine but I was too frozen to move. "I need to speak with my wife."

His eyes focused back on me as the effects of the demon version of ecstasy began to kick in. The drug flooded my system like it had done before, subtly before suddenly. Only this time, I had been unprepared. I couldn't escape the giddiness or the profound desire to climb on top of him and mount him. Meanwhile, he wanted to yell at me. We were on two very different wavelengths.

I looked over to Felicity who stood still, seemingly unsure what to do. Her eyes moved to the others, searching for an answer.

"Please don't leave me alone with him," I whisper-yelled at Felicity, latching onto her arm.

"Why?" She whispered back.

"I don't trust myself alone with him," I admitted sheepishly. Her eyebrows lowered as she sent me a flat look and rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Lilo," she scoffed.

"I'm serious," I whined.

"You'll be fine. You're a big girl. You can control yourself."

Was I? I felt like an impulsive teenager again, thinking with my body and not my head. But she was right, wasn't she? I was able to control myself and my desire. I wouldn't let it engulf me the way it was desperately trying to do. It was winning but I was strong. All I had to do was ignore it and it would go away.

The only thing I could think to do was to not look at him. But it was hard. His presence was power. He was hard to ignore and easy to look at. I wanted to keep my eyes low, staring at the floor but what would that help with? He was a cocky motherfucker. He would demand to be seen.

Azazel inhaled slightly, seeming slightly intrigued with a slight raise of his eyebrow. I gritted my teeth. His lip curled slightly to the right, his gaze piercing. How could he look at me this way when we weren't alone? I felt stripped naked, bare in front of his eyes. How I desperately wanted to be.

"Why?" I finally challenged, once I caught my breath.

His nostrils flared. It was obvious that I was the first and only person to not give in to his demands  This man was obstinate and sure he commanded it, but he believed he was owed my respect. Better yet, he felt he was owed my subservience. I had never been subservient to anyone and wasn't going to start now. It wasn't my problem if he couldn't respect my individuality or autonomy. It was his.

"I want to talk about the wedding," he informed me, eyeing the others in the room again. "Alone."

"I don't really want to talk right now," I admitted.

I had just found out that I accidentally drugged myself. The last thing I wanted to do was have a serious conversation. I wasn't even sure if I could have a serious conversation. Internally, I was bouncing off of the walls. I had enough energy to last me three days. And the euphoria I was feeling definitely wasn't warranted. The desire to move, dance, and be social was unable to be ignored. The drug was overtaking me and I had no other choice than to submit.

"We need to."

"No, we don't. I want to go back to the party and have fun. I want to be able to enjoy my actual wedding."

His eyebrows creased slightly, his lips parted, and a small breath left his mouth. Maybe I was crazy to think that for a second I recognized a brief, slight moment of pity. Guilt. But it was gone and he turned to Procel sharply, a vacant look on his face. There was no more emotion, only the same guarded expression he usually wore.