Sequel of The Devil & The Angel: Volume 1
A year and a half has passed since young Daisy Miller met the dark devilishly handsome Damien D'Angelo. Now the two are smack bang in the middle of a new chapter together, living their passion filled lives...
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Chapter Song - The Prowl by Dan Auerbach
A cross stitch pattern laid out in front of me, empty from the thin strands of coloured string. A plan is devised in solid concrete, but floats in the air like a ghost, as it's yet to be lived.
Salt and peppered hair, wrinkled eyes and sagged skin, along with darkened under eye bags decorate my fathers aged face. Still the same, yet completely changed. The vile man isn't as old as you'd believe, but from years of prison, the aging process has sped up.
How sad.
I sit across from him, the simple, yet classy restaurant humming with chatter and a slight echo of kitchen noise floods the words yet to be said.
I'm relaxed and ready, nothing can hurt me. Nothing can surprise me, as you can't shock the predicted. As the space of silence grows, I sit patiently, wondering how my father will circle me as if I'm a vulnerable prey.
Luckily I slashed the skin of a sheep.
Quite honestly, I could sit here all day, whether or not my father talks and chatters on and on about information that he thinks will deter me. Or 'secrets' I've known for years in advance. He has nothing on me, and I smile internally because acting weak is something so simple.
Weakness is perceived as disgraceful, something most sprint away from ever showing. I, however, know weakness is the best cloak. A mask that unlocks all doors, one that earns all secrets and every drop of information, letting the blood of my enemies seep right into the palm of my hand.
They never know until the last minute, when the sheeps skin has rotted, and the wolfs winter fur grows thick and gruff. No one knows how much I hide, except Daisy, but she would never admit how much she truly understands me.
And I love that. That she knows understanding me isn't something to be discussed, but yet knows it's better kept hushed and still in the silence.
"Funny, isn't it?" my fathers hoarse voice breaks the tension.
I fight a smirk. "What is?" I question casually.
"How just yesterday you took every order I gave and now.." he drifts off, eyeing me up and down with false pride.
"A normal father would be proud," I comment, clamping my hands together in my lap.
His jaw ticks once, but he masks it quickly. I'll give it to him, he's keeping his calm and collected barrier quite strong, though I'm excited for the moment I smash through the cracks.
"Perhaps, but luckily you don't see me as such a faint figure," he answers.
I shrug. "Touché,"
He's surprised by relaxed demeanor, no touch of anger laced in my words or sarcasm found in my replies. Though, he keeps his shock from my cool and calm behaviour under wraps.
