The Reality Of Nightmare (BxB)

CHAPTER XXVI: THY SERVANT

CHAPTER XXVI: THY SERVANT

"Love is just a history that they may prove
And when you're gone, I'll tell them my religion's you
When Pontius comes to kill the King upon his throne
I'm ready for their stones."
- Lady Gaga, Bloody Mary

After our feet getting soaked in the salt water, I feel calm and relaxed. The demon just looks the same. Slate's eyes bore into mine and I feel myself freeze; earlier he wrapped his arms around me while we stared ahead, into the distance, watching the ocean cut through the horizon. Slate moves forward until our clothed chest is almost touching, his hot and minty breath fanning my face.

I watch his eyes; they darken, then they become bright.

The wind brushes past us, and his hair flies and Slate looks magnificent, so handsome, and God, perfect. I have this strong urge to close the distance between us and capture his lips with mine. Is it possible to crave for something you never tasted, you never felt, you never touched? The more I think about his lips, the more I feel like I've already kissed him, tasted him.

Slate looks away, his jaw clenching. "We should go back home to our unit." He says, not giving me a brief glance. He walks towards the shore, wears his shoes (and ignores that his feet are still wet), and leaves me at all. I scurry, wearing my shoes hastily and running after him. Once I reach him, I walk beside him, making sure to keep a couple of distances away from him because God knows much I want to hold his hand. Am I being ridiculous? Am I going insane? Probably yes. Only a crazy angel would want to hold a demon's hand and be happy about it.

Leaving this place is kind of a disappointment. Since this is the first time I've been in a beach, it makes me want to stay more. In fact I could just stay here forever. But if Slate wants to go home already, then so be it. Plus, I think there will be a day that I'll be able to go back here. It's not really the end of the world so I'm sure that I'll be back here someday. Maybe alone; maybe with Slate again. Who knows?

Continuing to follow him, I get suddenly lost that I bump into his back. Slate slightly turns his face around, looking at me over his shoulder.

"Wait me here," he says to me, his tone leaving no room for a conversation as he saunters away from me, being a face in the crowd as he swims through the sea of people walking across the theme park. Yes, we're back in the theme park and I enjoyed staying at the beach more than here.

Waiting patiently, my eyes scan the area – mortals are scattered everywhere; they are holding gadgets in their hands, arms stretched out, as they pose for the camera, angling their faces so they'd look good. It looks amusing how mortals can easily be drawn by these gadgets that they don't really need – well, maybe they do need the gadgets because they think that it should be part of their lives when it's really not. I think? Maybe this is my angel-side speaking. I mean, what do I know of being a mortal? I've been born an angel and I barely know how mortal things work.

They give out their best smile, laughing along with their friends when they see that it's not what it should look like and that they should pose more. I roll my eyes at them because I don't even understand it. Looking to my left, I see someone very familiar to me. I squint at my eyes, trying to see whether my assumption is correct.

When the guy with the jet black hair, gelled up rather messily, looks sideways, my assumption is seriously correct. I'm looking directly at my old servant Leandre Bonavi. He still looks the same and I miss him so much; his eyes roam around, scanning the area, and his forehead is creased. I run towards his direction and when he's within reach, my arms stretch forward and curl around him. Immediately he tenses, breaking free, looking at me with malice and alertness in his eyes, and when his eyes meet mine, recognition flickers in his eyes and a bright smile tugs into his lips.