Demons are from Heaven

PART 8: MY INCUBUS

You're mine . . . You belong with me.

Scipio . . . Scipio . . . Scipio . . .

"Scipio!"

I shot up from my nightmare – dream?

I calmed my breathing down, and the stranger's name resurfaced.

Scipio.

Scipio.

Scipio.

Did I really have a flashback in my dream? A memory from a decade and plus years ago?

Scipio . . . Who the hell was Scipio?

Then I remembered the boy's dark blue eyes, resembling the demon's dark blue eyes from earlier.

Could it be . . .

"Harley."

His voice was a whisper around the room. And he never sounded so sure at the mention of my mere name before.

I trembled as a haze of dark smoke collected itself before my bed, swirling, swaying like wind.

"Scipio . . ." I tasted the familiarity in the name.

For some reason, I wanted to say the name over and over, like that would help me remember other things apart from the dream I had.

Who was Scipio?

The smoke crawled over me, and I leaned back on my elbows when it stopped right over my body, right on my face.

"Harley." He breathed again, as if elated. As if there was something I had done that won me this privilege of his figure leaning over mine with my eyes tightly closed.

Silence.

I slowly opened my eyes, coming face to face with a person – no, a beast, really. A very, very, very beautiful one at that.

A set of massive black wings on a muscular back, bull horns sprouted over waves of silver hair falling down a handsome face, and navy blue eyes glowing.

Those navy blue eyes staring right through me.

God.

"Wh–what are you doing here?" I swallowed hard, feeling the coldness of his skin seeping into my warm body. "Are you really here? Finally back?"

He smirked. God - How can someone possess such blessed facial features? Hell - his whole body was bestowed with blessings. He was a walking personification of sin. And it was doing weird things to me.

"I heard my name being called." He marked, indigo orbs darted down to my lips and back to my eyes. "So yeah, of course I'm here. I promised to always be here, remember?"

I couldn't remember shit about a promise, but I definitely did call a stranger's name in my sleep and in my wake, too.

I stared at him, still too entranced by his physical magnificence.

"Scipio." I repeated, as if to test the waters. The name finally settling too well on my mouth.

Then he was kissing that mouth.

I gasped, taken aback by his sudden action.

He tasted like something I couldn't name. And I couldn't remember feeling this riled up over a simple kiss.

I was never the one to lay back and let things done to me. But I couldn't move under him. Not because I was trapped, but because I didn’t want to. I willingly let him overpower me and savored every second of it. Nobody has ever kissed me this way. With such passion, such vigor. Nobody has ever made me feel this helpless in the span of no time. Underneath the ground but above the clouds. Drowned deep but raised above.