daughter of hell

daughter of hell 43

as promised:D

P.O.V. (Luci)

Picle, tomato, salad, molten cheese, picle, ketchup. Oh, this was going to taste so good. Who ever said a demon could not love? I loved my sandwich.

"How I wish you'd eye me up like that."

"Dream on, loserboy."

"Oh, I will."

I turned around and pinned him down with a hateful glare.

"Do not dream of me. The possibilities of how you'd dream make me uncomfortable. So don't."

"Sorry about the crosses."

That made me stop. Did I hear an apology from Mr. Cocky? That alone was enough to tear my eyes from my sandwich (who I still loved very much).

"Correct me if I am wrong, but did I just hear an apology from you? You, the priggish Mr. Cocky, are apologing to a mere demon like myself? I must be dreaming."

The playful grin he flashed me, did not made me feel victorious.

"I knew that one day you'd be able to admit you dreamed of me."

"Nightmares, I can assure you." I added dryly.

"Nightmares are dreams too. I'll take what I can get." He shrugged.

"Nightmares are terrifying dreams. Dreams in which our worst fears are brought to life in fully convincing detail."

Ha, that shut him up. Yeah, I wished.

"Did you know that to some cultures, nightmares were the result of the visitation of demons. the word nightmare comes from the Anglo-Saxon mare, for goblin or succubus."

"I think we covered the part of me NOT being a succubus. It's downright insulting for you to even think such a thing."

"Why? A succubus is a demon. You're all the same."

"I can assure you, we are not."

"What's your rang in Hell? I already know you're pretty mighty in heavon, but how about in Hell?"

I grumbled, this was exactly the subject I wanted to avoid.

"Do you ever have nightmares?" I asked to distract him.

"Sure, I do. Who doesn't?"

I so badly wanted to say: me! But I couldn't, I had them all the time and each time more terrifying than the last. In nightmares we are alone. The terrifying worlds we create in our minds are populated with our fears.

If we run from an axe- wielding maniac, he can find us no matter where we hide. If we stab an angel with a knife, he may not even notice, or the knife may turn to rubber. Our thoughts betray us; if we think, I only hope he doesn't have a gun-lo! he has a gun. It is no wonder we are grateful to return from nightmares to the relative sanity and peace of the waking world.

Relative being the keyword, because true sanity was something my mother stole from me a long time ago.

A cold hand cupped my cheek, and a cold arm encircled my waist and pulled me into a wide chest.

"Don't let your fears get the better of you. It are only dreams, and when you are awake I will be there to keep you safe."

Why did I found this reasuring. I should not be comforted by his words. I knew I should fight him, but for the hate of all evil, I could remember.

"Talk to me." He said.

"Distract your mind by talking to me."

Distract my mind, that was exactly what his sent was doing to me. He smelled so good and his arms around made me feel safe. Before I knew what I was doing I found myself talking to him.