"Sometimes, love is as simple as watching the moon and sometimes it's as difficult as counting the stars.But I love doing both for you."
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The night air was brisk, carrying the scent of wood smoke and autumn leaves as Aadam held the gate open for me. Cameron's house loomed ahead, which looked as though it had been plucked straight out of a haunted movie set.
Strings of eerie lights cast a ghostly glow over the yard, where skeletons, jack-o'-lanterns, and cobweb-covered gravestones created an unsettling atmosphere. From inside, I could hear muffled laughter and upbeat music-a stark contrast to the devil standing next to me.
And what a devil he was. He looked like he had stepped straight out of the infernal depths of Hell.
I tightened my hold on his hand, my dark Seraphim wings brushing against his arm as I walked beside him.
He was muttering under his breath, still visibly annoyed. And I couldn't stop staring at him.
His black shirt clung to his body like a second skin, the top few buttons left undone, revealing a teasing glimpse of his toned chest.
The faint edges of an intricate flame- like emblem climbed up his chest, peeked out from beneath the fabric. His black pants hugged his frame perfectly. And the horns. Oh, the crimson horns perched on his head made him look every bit the dark, dangerous demon he was supposed to embody.
His messy black hair had been styled just enough to look effortlessly perfect, like he'd woken up looking like sin personified.
He looks... sinful. Absolutely sinful. Like he could snap his fingers, and the whole world would bow to him.
And yet, he didn't seem happy about it.
"Stop gawking, sweetheart," he muttered, though the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement.
"I'm not gawking," I protested, my voice coming out softer, more playful than I'd intended. "I'm... appreciating."
"Stupid horns," he grumbled, adjusting the horns on his head for the third time. "Cameron's dead to me."
I bit my lip to keep from giggling.
He's sulking like a child. How can someone this dangerous-looking be so adorably petty?
"I swear, if Cameron even looks smug tonight, I'm going to throttle him." he growled, yanking at the edge of his shirt as if it could somehow loosen the invisible chains of his irritation.
"Come on, Aadam," I teased, resting a hand lightly on his arm. "You look incredible."
He snorted, turning his smoldering gaze on me, the amber undertones in his eyes catching the light. "Who even picks costumes by drawing lots? It's insane. And he rigged the damn lot. You were supposed to be my white seraphim, and I was supposed to be your Archangel Michael. The white wings, the hero. And instead, I'm-"
