The Devil In His Eyes {BEING REWRITTEN}
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- Parts 3
BEING REWRITTEN
Was once The Devil's Deal, got changed to The Fiend Agreement due to family issues, didn't like that so it's now permanently The Devil In His Eyes.
~
"I see, " moments pass "Okay, yeah. I'll give you a baby" he pauses to watch her face light up "Under one condition"
"O-Of course"
"You will birth a healthy son on Christmas Eve. You will watch him grow up. On 12:01 am, Christmas Eve his 18th birthday, you'll hand him over to me." The demon smirks seeing the lady's face fall completely.
"Wha-at?"
"Congrats Johannah Deakin, you're pregnant!" and just like that the demon was gone.
MAY CONTAIN IMAGES THAT YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH. READ AT YOUR OWK RISK. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED!
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β π©π¦πͺπ’π―π’π«π π’ /Λπ©ΙͺπͺΙπ―Ιπ«π°/ ππ‘π§π’π π±π¦π³π’: π π£π’π³π’π―π’π‘ π°π±ππ±π’ π¬π£ πͺπ¦π«π‘ ππ¬π―π« π¬π£ π―π¬πͺππ«π±π¦π π£π¦π΅ππ±π¦π¬π«; πͺππ―π¨π’π‘ ππΆ π¬ππ°π’π°π°π¦π³π’ π±π₯π¬π²π€π₯π±π°, π©π¬π«π€π¦π«π€ π£π¬π― π’πͺπ¬π±π¦π¬π«ππ© π―π’π π¦ππ―π¬π π¦π±πΆ, ππ«π‘ ππ« ππ π₯π¦π«π€ π‘π’ππ’π«π‘π’π«π πΆ; β΄ π‘π’π³π¬π±π¦π¬π« π‘π―π’π°π°π’π‘ π¦π« π‘π’π©π²π°π¦π¬π« β "Then tell me," I rasp. "Tell me and I'll deal with it. I'll handle it. Just-don't shut me out." "I can't," she says again, voice breaking. "I can't tell you. I can't be with you. And I can't stand here and watch you break and know that I'm the reason." She swallows hard, her throat moving. "Please don't make me explain it. Please just... stop." I take a step toward her anyway, rain dripping from my eyelashes, my chest hollow. "I don't care if it kills me," I say, and it's not bravado; it's a man with nothing left to barter. "If that's the price, fine. At least then I get to be with you before it ends." She makes a small sound, half sob, half laugh, and it's the most human thing I've ever heard from her. "Don't say that," she whispers, almost fierce. "Don't ever say that." She holds my eyes for one last beat, lips parted like she might say something else - something that could undo all of this, something that could make the rain stop mattering. But she doesn't. Instead, she exhales, low and unsteady, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says again, softer now, like a confession. Then she turns. And that's it.
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