And lead us not into temptation, they said.
She fell into temptation nonetheless. Well, actually, Angel fell in love with her own temptation: Lucifer.
But she is not very interested in being freed from this evil; she wants temptation.
She wants to...
It's been a week since Moonlight and I are connected. The thought is still insane, and my mind can't wrap itself around it.
And it's been a week that I haven't seen Damon.
I'm relieved that I haven't seen him in a week, it gave me time to process everything that has happened. Right now, I'm in my room, staring outside. To the river where Moonlight and I were walking. A short knock sounds on my door, and then the door opens.
Audrey comes inside, with a smile. I explained everything to her. Well... the Moonlight part, at least.
"Hi," she says. "Hi," I smile back. From the minute that Audrey saw my wound on my wing, she took care of it. My wing is slowly recovering, but unfortunately, I can't fly.
This made me so mad, that I cursed the building where I crashed into. I took off the bandage around my arm because it's 'healthy' enough. It can manage without a bandage.
My wound is still very visible, that's the bad thing about it. But I just ignore it. Or I try to ignore it. But it's healing.
"So..." Audrey begins, and I narrow my eyes. She's going to say something that I'm not going to like.
"Satan's throwing a party tonight..."
"No," I say. "I'm not going. You can go, but I'm staying here. End of discussion."
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Thirty minutes later, I'm standing in front of my closet, deciding which clothes I'll wear.
After a lot of whining and pleading Audrey convinced me to go with her.
I put on a white jumper and black, skinny jeans with slits at the knees and my black sneakers.
I braid my hair in a loose braid, and walk to the living room, waiting for Audrey. Audrey kept on insisting that I'd wear something nice for the party. After what felt like an eternity Audrey comes out of the bathroom, in a short dress, her face caked with make-up and in 6-inch heels. Her hair is perfectly curled and her lips are blood red.
"Shit! I forgot my mascara!" she says, and runs to the bathroom. After a couple of minutes, she comes back, with now black eyelashes.
"Don't you want to wear a little make-up?" she asks. I shake my head.
"Then... do you want some lipstick?"
"Nope," I say. "Eyeshadow?" she tries again.
"No."
"Mascara?"
"No, thank you."
She sighs deeply. "Foundation?"
"Am I that ugly?" I ask, irritated.
She shakes her head. "No! I think you're beautiful, and I love your hair. I was just wondering," she says innocently.
