𝐚𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚 [𝟏𝟖+]

Chapter 12

𝐒𝐡𝐞 furrows her eyebrows at him, and asks "What do you mean 'It's' not you?". He bites his lip, and bites back his words. "Nothing, don't worry.". They stare at each other in silence for a few more minutes, until Dahlia stands up and dusts herself off. "Well, if you're not experiencing any side effects, I'll get back." She slides off her lab coat, and hangs her bag over her shoulder. The demon nods slowly, keeping his head down as he stands up off of the gurney. She goes to attach his handcuffs, but decides against it. He looks at her curiously, and she shrugs and begins walking him back to his 'cell'.

He looks at her one last time, before turning around as she closes the door behind him. He clenches his jaw and lays on the dirtied mattress, wincing slightly as the rough material makes contact with his scars. As he lays, thoughts of Dahlia begin racing through his head. Her lips, he imagined pressing his own against them and enveloping the warm pillows. Her eyes, he thought about the way she looked at him, with a certain curiosity, a certain sympathy that he hadn't seen in humans before, and he felt pangs of guilt once she'd mentioned Selma's daughter, despite him not being implicated. He thought of her skin, the way her perfume lightly smelled of vanilla and lilac as she stepped closer to him. 'I can't think of her that way. She only wants to kill me, like the rest of them.' he thought to himself bitterly, and stood up to greet the wall in front of him. 

The wall was decorated with claw marks, and blood stains from when they first summoned him into this God-forsaken room. Memories of him thrashing in the arms of those who'd sedate him and mercilessly killing the rest, live inside this room. He'd been there for years, isolated and used as a test rat, but it all changed once Dahlia arrived. In his eyes, she was an angel. The angel who would run away with him for once and for all. 

As Dahlia makes her way to her car, she decides to drop by a phone repair shop to figure out what's going on with the cryptic messages. Just as she considers it, another text message beeps from her phone. 'I miss you already.' It says, and she scoffs incredulously. Whoever it is, is toying with her. Feeding off of her fear and paranoia. She grips the phone tightly as she drives to the shop. Once she arrives, she practically darts through the door and straight to the counter. 

"What is this?" She pants, and holds out the phone to the man. He hums as he reads the texts, and then pulls the phone from her grasp. She stares at him as he curiously investigates, and he hands her back the phone. "It's encrypted." He explains blankly. She looks at him as if he has three heads, "What? Can't I block the number?!" She exclaims in desperation, and he furrows her eyebrows at him before shaking his head. "There is no number, Ma'am. I don't know how these texts are appearing, but there's nothing we can do." He sighs, and she rubs her temples in an attempt to soothe herself. She thanks him, and promptly walks out. 

She stares at the phone in her hand, and an unfamiliar feeling courses through her. She feels a certain disdain for the simple object, and It's ability to completely control her life. The way she can't dispose of it only drives her into further despair, so she decides not to look at it anymore. On the drive home, thoughts of the demon seem to occupy her mind. The way he stared at her, she'd sworn she had seen warmth in his eyes, something he doesn't seem to have with Oliver. The way his hair hung down his forehead, she'd have to fight the urge to brush it away with her fingers. The way he looked at her when she stood between his legs, and the perverted jokes he'd crack at any given moment.

Dahlia curses herself internally for having such thoughts, but the thoughts don't feel as wrong as they should. It's almost like it's right, like he's right. But he's a demon! There's no way a demon and a human could ever have anything besides pure hatred for one another, right?"