Page 47 of The Devil

The devil doesn’t fall in love.

You already have, you piece of shit.

Be that as it may, not even I’m that evil; to force the woman I love to live a life of torment with me.

You’re just like him, Lucius, the man who raped me. The man who ultimately drove me to a piece of rope and that tree. You’re his spawn, his curse upon me. No one could ever truly love you; I should have had you terminated to save you from a life of horrific loneliness.

But I could be the one to break the curse.

Do you really believe that, Diablo? Do you really think Helena Carter deserves to have a love based on ‘could’? She is an angel, and you are fallen; don’t bring her down with you, Lucius.

I’m half you too, Mom.

I was an angel too, once, but he dragged me down to hell with him; I took my life and left my son, I am just as fallen as you are. Don’t force her to become like me; don’t make history repeat itself.

I can be good…

Oh, baby, you were born bad…it’s in your DNA.

“M-Mr Hastings?”

A sudden tap on my door, one that seems almost too loud for Steven’s nervous disposition, echoes across the room.

“What!” I snap as I wrap a towel around me.

“Erm, well, apologies to disturb you, b-but Miss Carter, she’s wondering…that is to say, she’s worried about your, er…”

“Fuck’s sake,” I mutter to myself over this guy’s lack of balls.

He’s terrified of you, son, he knows you’re evil too. Stick to what you’re good at – being the heartless devil who keeps everyone at arm’s length. Make this your last night with her.

“Get the fuck out of my head!” I growl at myself before slamming the closet door shut. “Steven, tell Miss Carter I’ll be five minutes. Now, leave me the fuck alone.”

“Y-y-yes, Sir, of course, Sir,” he stutters, flapping his feet about on the floor before rushing off, probably trembling as he goes.

Listening to his anxious footsteps pacing away as fast as he can, I sink my ass onto the bed and release a long, frustrated sigh.

“You’re right, Mother.”

Lucius

She stares at the stars above, but my eyes focus solely on her. She is everything I do and don’t want. She’s everything I can’t have but want more than anything in the world. She’s the reason I will never have a relationship past one night. She’s the reason I will live an angry and frustrated life; she’s the reason I will hate myself for every day I’m not with her.

“Dance with me, Topolina.”

I hold out my hand for my wide-eyed girl and give her one of my rare genuine smiles. She cautiously takes it, probably wondering why I’m suggesting we dance when there’s no music to dance to. However, I know in about a minute and a half the hotel next to the marina will restart their set and I may or may not have offered the band a few hundred dollars to play the song I wanted for us.

She stands inside my arms, and it has never felt more natural. When the music begins, I point to the sky to make sure she can hear it too and when she does, she pats my shoulder playfully and laughs softly. I smile and pull her in closer so we can sway gently to the melody, the words, and the messages that I cannot tell her myself.

I feel her gently shudder against me as she listens to the words. I knew she’d get it because nothing slips past that brain of hers. Too clever, too sensitive, too perceptive to be able to hide anything from her. And yet, I still can’t say what she desperately wants me tell her, to say what I want to say to her too. So, instead, I hold her close to me and inhale her scent so I can at least take it with me when she leaves. Which she will. She has to.

Helena

Lucius and I make love one more time in the master bedroom before we break apart. For a long while after, we lie completely still with a gulf between us. I stare at him knowing I will never get over my diablo, and yet, I don’t want to get over him. I feel too much when it comes to him. As he stares back at me, I wonder if he is thinking the same thing, if he’s finally realized what this could be between us.

“I return home on Monday,” he eventually whispers, and I feel the space between us widen, even though we haven’t physically moved. “When do you go back?”

“Four weeks,” I utter, to which he simply nods without words. I’m already losing him again. “Is this where you say it was fun, but see you around?” I laugh but he doesn’t smile back. “You mean, this is totally it? You have no intention of seeing me again?”

---