Sympathy for the Devil

29

The sun set on us for tonight.

This seemingly perfect day was ending.

And I didn't want it to be that way. I wanted to stay in this moment for a long while.

Killian ran his fingers through my tangling of curls. The hurt that swarmed in his eyes dimmed as the sky glistened in orange and pink hues. His brown eyes turned to a brighter melted caramel. Less chocolate infused. Less dark as if to compensate for the darkening sky. Ireland is five hours ahead of New York City. We could go back now and it would still be hours before the sky would turn to a silky dusk.

Ireland's sky currently looked like cotton candy throw up. It was stunning. It was what I imagine Heaven would look like all the time if a place like Heaven existed at all. I doubt the Otherworld is as pleasant since the Gods rule over that realm, too.

Suddenly, the world was opening up for me again rather than swallowing me whole. I could feel it.

"Do you still paint?" I asked as his hands fell back to his sides after an intensely unspoken intimate moment that turned my insides to mush. "You were always a great artist." I didn't realize until I spoke the words that I may be reminding him too much of his human life. Our lives have evolved now. For better and for worse. I no longer take photographs or write as I once did. My interests are now more narrowly focused.

"Not as much as I'd like anymore, I still sketch occasionally, usually at night or in the morning. Mostly when I find it near impossible to sleep. Insomnia is a relentless fucking bitch sometimes, I swear. During the day, it's too suffocating to do much of anything lately. This ounce of free time has been needed lately. Why? Are you offering to model for me, Jellie Belly? I've heard nude portraits are a rite of passage for young and aspiring artists. Plus, I'm feeling inspired now by this view in front of me, but imagine how I'd feel when you're undressed."

"You wish, Kill." I stammered on each word.

Killian nodded. "Very much so." He admitted as my cheeks tinted red. He placed a gentle hand on my cheek and cupped my face, drawing me in. He wiped the red away as if his hand were an eraser. "Another beautiful trait of paradise is that everything shitty melts away with the winter slush."

"Promise me we won't end up like Hanna and Finn. Hanna is still alive, yet vacant and distorted. The life was sucked out of both of them. Who knew morbid was a personality trait?"

"You won't end up like that. You'll always be my Jellie Belly."

"In no way will I ever be Jellie Belly. I don't even like Jelly Belly's. They're like chewing on flavored and medicinal plastic."

"The nickname stays. Get used to an eternity of it." A smile was plastered on his lips as his deeply grooved dimples were revealed. He reserved that look solely for me. That teasing smirk was all mine.

A finger of his grazed the corner of my mouth. A glob of mayo stuck to the corner of his finger as he sucked it. I finished off the last bites of my sandwich and washed it down with the last swallow of root beer.

"Will my brother really die tomorrow night?" I asked with a hard swallow. I failed at leaving my troubles in New York.

"It seems that way. If we keep forcing ourselves to collect souls without attachment and follow orders, he will. You want to break a rule, then by all means, be my guest. But know that I tried to break the very same coveted rule. For you. It didn't stop shit. It only temporarily delayed the inevitable." He paused as he brushed a strand of hair away from my eye. "They cannot possibly punish us further. The only catch is that we are bound and defined by nature and the natural order of a world that is both supernatural and human-ridden. If you save Julian, someone else will be forced to take his place. That includes fates tampered with in the Book of Fates. If I use my ability to revive someone who died, then someone else must consequently take their place. It keeps things in checks and balances. That's why I don't bring people back. That, among other obvious reasons." He was talking about his parents. He brought them back, and they still abandoned him and thought of him as a monster.