☾° Compelled. ⌜ d. swing. ⌟

☾° › twelve.

Zena Phoenix.

The stare down was intense. Silence has completely drained the life out of the room, and truthfully, I was just waiting for my own existence to be snuffed out with it. Finally, the reticence was interrupted by the his raucous vocal instrument. 

"I don't know why you keep thinking that if you ignore me I go away, Zena. That's not how this shit works. You ignore me, and I get angry."

"I wasn't ignoring you. I was giving you time to spend with your new girlfriend." I replied hastily as I moved about my apartment with the sole intent to stay as far away from his angry ass as possible.

"Don't come at me with that jealous bullshit, she's not my fuckin' girl. You woulda known that if you ain't try to fucking kill us all. When were you gonna tell me?" His voice lowered at the conclusion of his last sentence, as if we weren't the only two in the room. However, his question confused me.

"Tell you what, DeVanté?" My thick eyebrows sloped downward as he only kissed his teeth like as if I was acting clueless purposefully. "And you got some fucking nerve calling me jealous. I ain't got shit on you."

"What's behind your back." He quizzed, nodding toward the fact that I had my hands clutched at the small of my back. The grimoire of spells now felt heated in my grasp, the urge to drop it came on strongly. That's when I realized exactly what he meant.

Shaking my head unhurriedly, I let my lower lip protrude from my top one. "Nothing. My hands." I lied stupidly. This nigga had the sensory endings of a damn dog, he could sniff the fib out a mile away.

Before I could blink, he had swiftly moved behind me. Grabbing my left wrist and pulling it from the right hold of my right hand. I wasn't stupid enough to try and fight him, so I voluntarily relinquished the book. Hoping it was enchanted and it would transform itself into a novel of cajun recipes. I closed my eyes tightly as the room fell completely silent. Only the sound of old pages rustling could be heard behind me. Dropping my arms at my side, I held my breath until the sound of hearty laughter abruptly cut through the silence.

"So what you plannin' on doin'?" De questioned as he took his time rounding my body until we were face to face again. His eyes were glued to the pages as he mouthed one of the spells quietly, a smirk still playing on his lips. "You got some kinda spell in ya' lil' book to get rid of me, baby?" His already low resting voice reverberated off of his vocal chords, creating a growling effect, causing the pit of my stomach to turn. "Hm?" He reiterated as he threw the book down onto the floor and invaded my space. His hand found the back of my neck, his fingertips resting against my skin as he caressed my nape delicately.

I knew the gentle touch was faux, and my suspicions were validated when he cupped my neck, using only a portion of his strength to clench down on it. My teeth gritted as the pain set in. Leaning his head forward, he placed his lips against my forehead, trailing kisses down the center of my face. My body began to tremble, making my fear known to him — as if he needed another reason for pure amusement.

"You can't get rid of me. I need you. You need me. As much as you hate to admit that shit. You wanna make me the bad guy, fine. But in all that, rememba' how the bad guy makes you feel."

Once his pillowy pair grazed mine, he just knew he had me in his clutches. And I would be inclined to agree since I in no way objected to the kiss. Allowing his roguish embrace to overtake my better senses, his tongue slipped into my mouth and asserted dominance over my own. His intense kiss weighed me down, if restricted my body from acting on the power struggle that I was having in my mind. Placing my hands against his chest, I used my strength to push him away from me.

"No, DeVanté. No!" I all but screamed, using the back of my hand to wipe the mixture of our salivas off of my lips, his body language grew immediately cold. I watched him use his thumb to flick the bridge of his nose which was an obvious sight of irritation. When his eyes met mine, I immediately felt the need to back down. But my newfound knowledge of all the power I possessed wouldn't allow me to do so.

"Life wasn't suppose to be like this! Love isn't suppose to be like this...it's not even love. It's like...I'm drawn to you. Like I HAVE to be with you. The universe won't allow me to make my own choice. I can't take you to my family, we can't have children. We can't die from old age together. My friends hate you because there's a very high chance that you'll kill them! This was NOT how it was suppose to be!" I could feel my cool exterior crumbling away by the moment. In no way did I believe anything I was saying. I was in love with this man, despite everything that he had done. It didn't feel like I was being forced into loving him — I had a choice, even though I wanted to blame my bad decisions on anything but my own recognizance.

"You don't know shit about how your life is suppose to be, Zena. This shit has been pre-destined. Can't you see that? You and me, it's fate. But you still tryna fight it so you can live a regular life. There's nothing fucking regular about you, Nyx!" He barked, however, the time of his voice isn't what piqued my curiosity. It was the fact that he'd called me another woman's very odd name. A name that I heard fall from his lips many times, especially in his sleep. However, I'd never been able to connect those dots until this very second.

"Who the hell is Nyx!?" I screeched before I could even form another thought. It was one thing to be caught in a compromising position, but mixing me up with some other bitch was inexcusable.

All the blood from his face drained immediately. I had never seen him look so powerless or out of control. He was always such a dominant being in the room, but at the mere mention of that name he seemed to turn into a little boy.

"I-I didn't say that I said—." He stuttered, which at first caught me by surprise. I had never seen him so flushed with embarrassment. It would've been endearing had I not known what he was capable of.

"No! Nigga. You called me Nyx. Now you're mixing up our names? But you're standing up here talking about fate? Can you please leave? I got shit to do." Him becoming docile empowered me in a way, it made me feel like I was finally the controller in the situation instead of being controlled. However, as expected. My reign was short lived.

"I'm not goin' nowhere until you explain this shit." He rebutted in a confusingly ataraxic timbre, kicking my book with the toe of his boot. Above everything else, the man had a gift of flipping the script and making me feel like I owed him an explanation when he failed to offer me one.

"What is there to fucking explain? It's right there in black and white. I know yo' ass has learned how to read in the three centuries that you've walked the earth!" I shot back, only to receive a glare that would've sent me straight to the morgue if it could've. "Sorry." I corrected demurely. "After what happened the other day, I went to see my grandmother. She told me that I come from a long line of witches and I may have powers too. The book is so I can figure out if I do or not." I told the half truth. He didn't deserve to know the entirety of the story. That, and the fact that I didn't remember it.

"Truth is, I don't give a fuck that you're a witch. That shit effects me none. It actually makes shit kinda exciting when you think about it." A mischievous grin was now plastered on the lower half of the male's face, which in turn caused me to smile as well. I kissed my teeth loudly and waved him off mentally. "But forreal, Z. I'm not tryna mess around on you. I'm not fucking that girl. I ain't even seen her in 40 years, man. I don't want her. I want you." Molasses lacquered his timbre, it amazed me each and every time how he could turn on a certain amount of charm and expect me to puddle again his feet. Not this time.

"So if you want me, can you finally explain to me who Nyx is? Oh, and while you're at it. I wanna know about Demitri too." My arms folded a crossed my chest as his

A smirk graced my lips as I watched his whole demeanor change, a amusing combination of defeat and rage shone through his nonchalant persona. for now I was the one running this shitshow of a relationship we had — and he couldn't take it.

—
it's the way 2020 got us in a chokehold. enjoy this though. ❤️