Horns VS. Halo

Chapter 3

                                                                                                  
                                 ~Vance~

"Why does she have to come with us again?" I inquire boredly, pointing to the back seat, not even sparing a look at the nuisance I'm referring to.

"I'm coming because he wants a girl's opinion, don't you Eli?" Charlotte shoots back with a sarcastic tone.

Eli just blushes a deep shade of red and quickly glances at her in the rearview. When is he not looking at her in the rearview? Not for the first time I want to use my magic to seal her pretty- yet very irritating lips shut and move his eyes to the road.

Eli's car is on its' very last wheel, sputtering as if begging for its' life. The radio speakers crackle loudly as he blasts heavy metal and I throw my hands over my ears and try to focus on the outside world.

It never ceases to amaze me that on the surface level, the civilians walking their dogs and mowing their grass seem so unbothered, so content, so innocent. I know very well that looks are deceiving and just how sinister people can really be behind the scenes. The living world is so ugly when you've seen the kinds of things I have.

To my relief, I see the Brookfield mall coming into view. Miss Holier-than-thou better stay in her place and keep her opinions to herself.  It doesn't take me long to understand that she has very different ideas.

"Eli, I think you would look very handsome in this, don't you Vance?" She inquires, holding up the most hideous sweater I'd ever seen in my 5,000 years of life.

"Actually, I think that sweater belongs on a 70-year-old librarian named Carol," I respond snatching it out of her perfectly manicured fingertips and tossing it back on the rack. Those pink nails might as well be claws the way she's digging them into my mission.

I watch in contentment as the arrogant little smirk gets wiped clean off of her face.

"Well let's see if you can do any better then," she challenges, crossing her arms over her chest. I spin Eli around and waltz him over to the streetwear section.

"You weren't even looking in the right place," I quip over my shoulder. I can feel her glaring daggers at the back of my head.

I send Eli to the dressing room with Jean and leather jackets, gray sweatpants, tight shirts and shredded jeans. His Pokémon shirt has holes in it anyways.

"Whatever, since my help isn't needed I'll just go shop for myself," Charlotte pouts, as if anyone gives a rats ass. Good, you'll only mess things up anyways.

After a few minutes of waiting for Eli to finish in the dressing room, curiosity nags at the back of my mind. What could she possibly be shopping for, anyways?

After knocking on the door to Eli's dressing room, it's clear he's going to be in there a while, so I decide to take a little walk.

By "walk" I just mean I really want to see what Charlotte is up to. She always has some trick up her sleeve, always plotting something. I scan the store and catch a glimpse of her strawberry blonde hair walking down the aisle, right towards me.

I swiftly dodge behind a rack of granny nightgowns and watch as she walks into one of the dressing rooms.

I make my way closer and hide behind one of the racks near the door. As if sensing my presence, the door swings open and Charlotte stands in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"You're stalking me now too? I'm pretty sure that's against the rules of the agreement between heaven and hell," She grumbles.

I let out a sigh and step away from the rack, leaving myself exposed to her prying eyes.

"Well, I don't make a habit of following the rules," I respond, doing my best to keep my eyes off of her figure in the little black dress she'd tried on.

To my shock, she reaches out and scrunches the fabric of my shirt between her fingers and drags me into the dressing room, closing the door firmly shut behind her.

It's only now, up close, do I get the chance to fully appreciate the way the mini dress hugs every curve of her body. My eyes seem to break free of the restraint I had on them and scan over every inch of her. Judging by the flush to her cheeks, she notices this.

Her grip never loosens on my shirt and she backs me up against the dressing room door. Slowly moving her hand up my chest and lightly pressing her fingernail into the soft flesh under my jaw, pinning me in place.

"It's a shame things had to be like this but just know that when I'm done with you, you'll be at the gates of hell begging for them to open," she says with calm rage.

Before I can respond, she spins around and pulls her hair to the side, gesturing for me to zip up her dress. I find myself strongly desiring to do the exact opposite, but I silently obey.

My hands softly graze the small of her back as I take my time pulling up the zipper. I'm biting my lip too hard and taste copper in my mouth.

The second I'm done zipping up her dress, she's spinning me around again and shoving me out of the dressing room. I lean against the door, sliding my hand down the wall in defeat.

I hear myself say, "You should get the dress."