Blood and Roses

7 | The Demons I Have

~Angelo

Today was one hell of a day. I can't deny it. One of those rare moments where everything seemed to align in my favor. The best day I've ever had, no doubt. Cruising through those streets, my heart pounding, right beside the woman who holds my fate in her hands: Camila. Yeah, she despises me. She's got this twisted plan to end my life if I can't make her fall for me in a measly few days. But you know what? That doesn't faze me. Not one bit.

From the very beginning, I've been captivated by her. I can't help it. She's got this allure, this undeniable beauty that reaches deep into my soul. She's flawless, perfect in every way. And you know what else? I love her. I want her to see that. Maybe she'll never return those feelings, and if that's the case, I'll accept my inevitable demise at her merciless hands. But not yet. Right now, I've still got a shot. Why do I believe I stand a chance with a woman like her? Because I made her smile.

Camila's truth is a harsh one: she's forgotten how to smile. It's been years since happiness graced her lips, ever since that tragic Halloween when her parents were ruthlessly ripped away from her. They were the only ones who truly understood her, the ones who made her feel cherished and welcomed. But that happiness was stolen, leaving her bereft and broken. Since that day, she's sworn to never gift anyone with her smile, believing they don't deserve it, that she doesn't deserve it.

But today, everything changed. Amidst the chaos of our escapade from the cops, I saw it. That elusive smile emerged from the shadows, radiant and untainted. Her cheeks flushed with red, her emerald eyes sparkling like precious gems in the sun. It was a sight I'd longed to witness for an eternity. The question, though, lingers like an ominous cloud: did she even notice? Has she gone so long without smiling that she's forgotten how it feels? If she didn't recognize that fleeting moment of joy, then what does it matter? What's the point of caring about something she's pushed so deep into the recesses of her heart?

No, I can't afford to entertain such thoughts. I forced myself to clear my mind, pushing aside any doubt that threatened to creep in. Sitting up in bed, legs crossed, I gazed out the window, fixating on the stars against the black canvas of the night sky. No room for weakness. No room for uncertainty.

It matters. Of course, it matters. That smile, after all this time of her living in numbness, it means something. It could be the beginning of something significant. Maybe, just maybe, I could be the one to ignite the spark that transforms her into a happy 18-year-old once again. The possibility grips my mind, and I can't let go.

The midnight hour passes, yet sleep eludes me. My mind is consumed by the potential future, the intricate dance of possibilities that lay before us. Will she end my life at the week's end? Or will fate be kinder, allowing us to find a way to make this work? But lurking in the shadows is my most dangerous adversary, my greatest enemy. He waits, biding his time for the perfect moment to strike.

Felix Reid, my most bitter rival, the brother of the man I mercilessly took from this world, Marco Reid. The day I ended Marco's life, my arrogance got the better of me, and I paid the price, getting caught by the police within minutes. Unlike now, there was no Camila to save me from the searing pain of a taser. No, that day, I felt the volts course through my body, leaving me writhing on the ground, helpless against the swarm of officers who had me pinned down.

Five officers, each holding a limb, while my wrists were cuffed together. They subdued me with ease, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it. That was the moment my feud with Felix ignited. Only an hour after my arrest, Felix learned of his older brother's brutal death, and his fury knew no bounds. He stormed into the police department, driven by rage, seeking vengeance against the one who took his flesh and blood away. I still remember the murder in his eyes as he forced his way into the interrogation room. Cuffed to the table, I was utterly defenseless before his wrath.