The Devil Likes Lemon Cupcakes

The Devil And 666

                       »I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

                          in secret, between the shadow and the soul.«

                                                     Pablo Neruda

 My socks were soggy, resulting in very cold feet and my instant craving for a hot shower. I watched my dirty shoes and the muddy jacket, just laying there, on the floor, remembering the last thing that happened – his kiss.

How could one simple thing taste so delicious, yet be so cruel?

I tried slapping my cheeks to wake up and surprisingly some dried dirt feel off my hair and onto my covers. That's right, I feel in a mud puddle.

Hm, at least he took off my shoes before he left me on the bed. I'm just glad he didn't took off anything else. Or tried to rinse me with water. I cringed at how realistic the last two sentences sounded.

Wait!

I suddenly blasted out of my bed.

What about-

I glanced at a tiny black furball, taking a nap on my table. Could it be-

I got up and walked towards the desk. And there she was. Something that was a fierce giant beast just a minute ago, was now a tiny kitten, sleeping on my *Charles Bukowski.

I could not comprehend the incredible difference, not even when I stroked the kittens' soft fur and she let out the cutest sound as she stretched out those little paws.

My Waneta. This little thing.

I shook my head and went to take a shower.

I tried coming to my senses while splashing my face with cold water, but it just wouldn't go away. The thoughts, the memories...the way his face would show up every time I closed my eyes. The way I felt searing pain in my lips every time I remembered our kiss. I kept reminding myself that he was the devil and that these kind of things meant nothing to something like him. Besides, he can have everything and everyone.

I'm not trying to put myself down, I'm not ugly, I know that, but...why would he want me if he can get girls that are way more beautiful than I am...

Ugh, why am I even thinking about him, stupid Luc...

»You have a cat on your table, you know that?« A male voice echoed from the other side of the bathroom door.

»Yes,« I answered back. »I um, found her on a street.« I said a quick lie to my brother.

»Oh, I thought you switched to witch-obsession or something, with the cat being black and all...Does mom know about this?« Jan asked.

I grimaced at his dumb observation. »No.«

»Are you keeping it?«

»I guess...« I have to.

»Good,« He snorted in the same weird pig way I do. Apparently it runs in the family. »now I can have an excuse when I'm trying to get rid of a chick in the morning – taking it on a walk. A cat, that is.«

I furrowed my eyebrows. »I think those are for dogs.«

»Does it have four legs?«

»Well, yes but-«

»Then it walks!«

I sighed at my brother's stupidity. »I'm not sure she will like you.«

I heard steps toward my room, the cracking of the wooden floor as Jan's enormous feet stomped on it. »Of course she will like me,« He said with a high pitched voice, uncommon for a guy. »won't you- Ouch!« He yelled as the object of his affection growled angrily. »It starched me!«