Shoutout to @chastityreso who took the time to read and acknowledge me.
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6 Years Later
It is the same routine every Sunday. Wake up from the hour - two if I'm lucky - power nap before my father berates me about my "lack of discipline," take a shower to wash off the residual evidence of my kill from the night before, brush my teeth and get ready for mass. That's right. Church mass at 6:00.
After drying my hair, I wrap the towel around my waist and quickly grab my toothbrush and toothpaste. As I'm brushing my teeth, I hear a hard knock on the door.
"Son, you have about two minutes before I break down this door and drag you to church naked." I smirk at that because I can only imagine the harsh looks and glares I would get because of my indecent nudity. Have to love my father though for trying to rush me. I spit really loudly into the sink to let him know that I'm almost done and I get my desired response: a loud groan.
"I'll be in the car," he says with a stern voice. "Just hurry up."
I silently laugh when I hear his footsteps fade. I rinse out my mouth and quickly make my way into my room. I walk towards my dresser and pull out and put on a fresh pair of boxers and black socks. I turn and look at my clock and inwardly curse when I see 5:45 in bright red. Damn it, we're going to be late and I'm going to hear it from Father. I quickly grab the first things I could find in my closet: a loose grey shirt and black jeans. I swipe my phone and watch off of my nightstand and sprint down the stairs. I run out the door, almost stumbling trying to simultaneously secure my phone in my pocket and put on my shoes. When I enter the car, I can already feel my dad's glare burning holes in the side of my head.
Great, this car ride will be fun.
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"I tell you this every time, young man. There should be no reason, and I do mean NO REASON, why we are late for mass. It's selfish and ..."
It is ironic really. The fact that I commit sins - murder, treason, more murder - every night of the week but still go to church every Sunday morning is a little humorous to me. Most people would question why a demon and his father attend church and actually listen intently to whatever the priest's sermon is and to be completely honest, I question that logic, too. But my father is the one who insists on attending every week and he is not someone to question. Personally, even with all of my "rudeness and inconsideration," I still adore attending mass. Why? Because the congregation consists of humans and the creatures that go bump in the night, obviously unbeknownst to the human community. Those weak little humans definitely do not know who they are preaching to. Other than that, church is alright.
"... remind you every time?" my father questions. "We continue this because ..."
I quickly turn around to face him. "Because we cannot let others know about what we truly are," I interject, "yes I know."
I turn back and look out the window even though I know my dad is giving me his signature glare that could permanently shape his face. I honestly do not understand why he gives me this lecture almost every Sunday. Well, I do because I constantly give him the short comments that I know he hates, but I would never admit that out loud. I hear a sigh, another response that I usually get from my father. An awkward silence immediately makes its way into the car. Because of the sound of the dead pervading during the car ride, I do not initially notice the feeling of a hand touching my shoulder. I turn around slowly, confusion clouding my mind when I see my father with a look that bores into my soul.
"You know we are not good people, right?" he asks. I roll my eyes after hearing such a ludicrous question. Of course I know I'm a bad person: I'm a teenager who probably would be sent to another planet if people found out about my nightly activities.
"Yes, I know."
"Liam, even though we aren't good people, there's one thing that you need to understand."
"Yes, Dad?"
"There are people in this world who are fragile - like flowers. While our souls are darkened, we make sure that those people don't turn out like us. They're the reasons why this world is not as despicable as it should be."
The look on my face in that moment is probably priceless. Is my demon father really trying to give me some sort of lesson on ethics and moral behavior? I would've answered back with a snarky comment but my father clears his throat and eyes towards the window. I check the time on the stereo and see 6:03. I look outside and witness the large stone cathedral with the prism colored stainless glass windows. I guess during the small sentimental moment with my father, I didn't notice that we arrived at the church.
"Come on," my father says, "we're late for mass." My father walks out of the car without giving me a second glance. I sit in the car a little dazed. Flowers? What the hell would he know about keeping people innocent when he was the one who brought me up in the world of sins? I let out a loud groan and slam the door when I finally exit the car. Looking up, I see that my father already walked into the church. I close my eyes, clench my fists and restrain myself from letting out a large growl.
I stomp my way into the side doors of the church. I dip my finger in the holy water and make the sign of the Cross (us powerful demons are resilient to all those things that are said to repel us). I glance over the congregation to look for my father but to no avail. Before I could get out a growl that could probably set this church on fire, a soft yet powerful aroma of vanilla, cinnamon and lavender wafts through my nose. Pretty. My pupils dilate as I inhale the scent. In that moment, all my senses leave me as I start to follow the scent. My legs somehow take me across the center aisle - I vaguely remember genuflecting - to the side of a center pew on the left side. I must've looked like an idiot because the only thing that brings me out of my perfumed stupor is a small soft giggle. I look down and I see the most beautiful creature in front of me.
"Would you like to sit down?" the angel whispers.
I let out a shaky breath and reply, "Yes. Yes I would."
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Just a heads up the next few chapters will be a little slow on plot because I why not?
KAMU SEDANG MEMBACA
Fragile Heart (Niam)
Fiksi Penggemar"Liam, even though we aren't good people, there's one thing that you need to understand." "Yes, Dad?" "There are people in this world who are fragile - like flowers. While our souls are darkened, we make sure that those people don't turn out lik...
