My demons (book 1)

On the run

"How predictable," remarked a cold, sarcastic voice she had never heard before. She looked around and spotted a male figure leaning against the tree not far away from her. He was a skinny looking guy, most likely in his early twenties, with his hair dyed in a nearly white tone which matched perfectly with his pale skin, a stark contrast to his black clothing.

"What are you on about?" she asked, confusion tinting her voice. "And who are you?"

"I'm just saying, Aisha...it is Aisha, right? I'm just saying that you always run to the forest. They will find you again. I'm Lucas, by the way." he said in the same flat tone, his black eyes looking dead, empty.

"Okay, Lucas, good to know that you are such a pro in running away. How in the gods name do you know who I am?" she groaned, getting annoyed.

"My dad made you this way," he deadpanned but she could see a flash of something in his eyes. Guilt, perhaps?

"Your dad?" she asked, trying to process his words.

"Yes," Lucas shrugged indifferently, leaving her wonder how much of the indifference was an act. "He started with me, of course and since I turned out to be such a success, he decided to make some more," he continued, letting out a humourless laugh at the end. "But by the looks of it, you let your demon to consume you, haven't you?"

"Obviously. You haven't?" she asked, observing him further. He sure looked like he did, with his empty eyes and ice cold voice.

"Nope, I was born like this," he laughed. "Tragic," she deadpanned. "We would make a good pair, though. Fancy running away with me?" he smirked and she supressed the need to roll her eyes. "I'm running away either way, might as well have some company," she shrugged and he grinned at her.

They had gotten on the first bus they could catch without even checking where it was going, leaving the place she once called home far behind. They got off it as the night started turning to day.

They stopped at a sketchy looking hotel, but none of them was really bothered by it. Lucas figured, once you live through a nightmare, places like this just don't have the same effect anymore. The receptionist smelled of stale perfume and the tables had ashtrays instead of flowers. It was dingy, dark and cheap. Perfect. He picked up the room keys with a wink and turned towards Aisha. "Looks just peachy, doesn't it?"

He laughed as she didn't even dignify him with a response, shouldering past him to an elevator. "You don't even know what floor we are on," he shook his head in disbelief and she narrowed her eyes at him. "I figured you'd be capable enough to press the right button," she deadpanned and he graciously complied, pressing the number four.

They made their way down the row of doors that looked like the building inspector was either bribed to pass it or drunk on the job. There were at least two screaming matches going on in separate rooms, but they paid them no mind making their way to their room. The room itself reminded Aisha of the ones in crime series, the ones where murders usually occur but when she voiced her opinion on that matter, she was met with nothing but a shrug. So he wasn't a crime show fan, fair enough. 

She closed the doors behind them and locked them. Hearing the click, he finally turned around to face her. 

He must have recognised the look in her eyes as she subtly bit her lip, her gaze landing on his suddenly dry lips. His eyes burned with lust and she figured they must be mirroring her own before she crushed her lips onto his and a wave of sensation ran through her veins. It took him aback for a second before he kissed her back with the same urgency, throwing her on the bed as if they were on tight schedule. He ripped her clothes of and she could hear the fabric tearing. She helped him take his clothes of before he started kissing his way down her body, each touch of his lips burning against her skin. She gave him everything and he did the same. He felt everything, she felt nothing.

"I could get used to this" he said, resting his head on the pillow next to hers. "Don't. It's a lot better if you are not used to it," she replied, placing her arm across her eyes. "You so planned this."

He laughed as he ran his fingers through his hair. "Brave of you to assume I ever plan a single thing in my life."

She laughed for a moment before straightening up again. "Can you now explain to me why are we stopping at the hotel? It's not like we need sleep or anything."

"Well," he said, turning to face her. "We can't risk being seen for now, so it's safer to travel by night. And we need to look at your bruises."

"We could have done this before recklessly having sex. What if I'm dying?" she sarcastically remarked as he started inspecting her body. "Nope, nothing serious here," he concluded shortly after and she rolled her eyes. "What a shocker."

"You are a complex piece of art, aren't you?" he murmured, looking up to meet her empty gaze.

"Art pieces arefragile, I'm better than that."