Demon ∞ l.h.

∞ Chapter Twenty Nine ∞

∞

I don't know how long it had been when I finally slipped out of my blissful unconsciousness, but one thing I did know was that the heaviness of my arms and legs, paired with the nausea I felt turning my stomach, was not a good combination. It felt as if someone had hit me with a bus, made me run a marathon, and then held me in a bucket of ice water. I tried to move, to squeeze the hand that held mine or twitch a single finger, but my body refused to cooperate. I was paralysed, trapped inside my own head.

The slow and rhythmic drag of a damp clothe across my forehead was a constant and comforting motion, a familiar sensation to me. It reminded me of whenever I was sick as a child- my mother sitting vigilantly at my bedside for hours on end and, whether I was awake or asleep, wipe the sweat from my forehead.

The cloth was cool against my feverish skin, but even so, my teeth rattled with cold, my shivering bordering on violent. Voice surrounded me, coming in and out of focus, my hazy mind unable to comprehend what was being said, let alone who was speaking.

But one voice stood out in particular. His voice was always there when I was flitting between awareness and unconsciousness – loud and demanding He was relentless in trying to figure out what was wrong with me. No one knew exactly, not from what I'd heard – Hell, even I didn't know what was wrong with me.

Every once and a while the crescendo of voices echoing through wherever I was ceased, that is when I assumed it was night and everyone had left to sleep. Did Demons even need to sleep? I should ask Luke when I wake up. Well, if I wake up.

He spoke to me during these quiet periods. He spoke about anything and everything – He even read me poetry aloud, whether He had written it himself or not, I didn't know, but I knew that I had never heard anything like it before. He read to me aloud right now, his deep timbre soft and calm. He probably thought the poems weren't heard at all, but He didn't know that it was easily my favourite part of being hostage to my own body.

"your body is a temple

but not for the reasons they said it all was.

It is a temple, because every soul who

kneels before it should be there for worship.

You are not a place for nonbelievers.

You were not made for heretics."

I liked this one; even it was one of the happy ones. Some of the poems He read weren't so happy – these were usually my favourites. His voice was smooth and rough, so calm yet so passionate, so raw with emotion when He read them. His voice was a never-ending stream of paradoxes that I could spend the rest of my life explaining. The topics ranged, whether it being people becoming slaves to intimacy or the unknowable expanse of the universe, they always had me hanging onto every word – like I had a choice.

"I think that will do for now, people will be back soon." I heard the soft sound of pages ruffling, the shutting of a hardcover book and then the soft shushing of someone standing from a plush chair. I didn't want him to leave, He didn't read as many poems as He usually would tonight and I could feel desperation flowing through my body to get Him to stay.

After exerting every amount of energy I had, I finally felt it. My finger twitched, very deliberately scraping the rough palm of His hand as it's grip loosened on mine. Then, silence. He didn't even breathe.

"Eve? Eve, if you just moved do it again for me, darling. I know it must be hard, but if you can, please do it..." But I couldn't. Once again, my body was no longer my own. If I could have, I would have been screaming loud enough to tear my vocal chords. I was frustrated at myself for using all my energy at the wrong time. Why had I not thought to do it at a better time?

He still held His breath as He waited for me to twitch again. He waited and He waited, and eventually a sigh dripped past His lips. Then, He left me. And finally, I was alone for the first time since I had collapsed.

I didn't even know how long ago that was.

∞

oh my god, i must be the worst author in the world fuck haha. i constantly promise 'next chapter soon' and then i completely forget until a month later damn it. thank you to those who are sticking with this book and supporting it even though i am super slack. please vote and let me know what you think so far... who do you think the mysterious He is?

xx