"Sometimes I'm scared I suppose

If you ever let me go

I would fall apart

If you break my heart." - Lady Gaga, Do What U Want

. Sometimes I wonder when he has gotten these things. I mean, ever since I came here, his attention is all on me, and never once he let his eyes go somewhere. I wonder if he has a job. A mortal job. I'm imagining Slate in a dark tailored suit, running a fine business here in Brooklyn, with his brushed up dark hair that looks almost black, and his eyes so dark that it almost looks like he doesn't have any irises, he could be pretty demanding. He has already taken a shower earlier, after snuggling up with me. When he got out the shower, I swear he looked like he was one of those mortal models who keeps letting everyone see how gorgeous they are as they walk through the catwalk. There were beads of water running down his six-pack abs, and his hair was damp. His cheeks were red, and his lips were plumped. He looked like he came out of a sexy scene.

"Wear these," he says as he puts the clothes on top of the bed. Slate is currently wearing a simple grey tank top, showing and flaunting how big and awesome his muscles are; there are veins clearly visible running down from his bicep down to his wrist, and just the thought of his warm hands touching my bare skin has me shuddering.

He gives a light green V-neck shirt, and just looking at it, I feel uncomfortable suddenly. I'm not really used to wearing mortal outfits, but I don't have any chance. He also gives me a white tight shorts, and I look at it incredulously for a moment before nodding my head and head inside the shower without saying anything to him. Once I step into the shower, I smell the soap, shampoo, and other stuff Slate puts on his body. That's why he smells so good. And the fact that his natural scent is so effing good doesn't give me any more reason to hate him. I grab a soap as I turn on the shower, and for a moment, I think back of the last time I have turned on a shower, and I was so dumb. A chuckle escapes my lips and as the cold water cascades down my body, I begin to rub my skin with the melon soap. Rinsing, I lift my chin up and let the cold water hit me in the face. It relaxes me and I let myself think.

Once done showering, I step out of the shower and study myself in the mirror; I look very mortal. There's no sign of me being an angel. My eyes are still the same, prominent like an angel's, but there's something about my eyes that don't look angelic at all. It's about my irises of my eyes. Sighing, I splash a cold water of my face and grab the towel that is hanging on the metal rack and dry myself off.

I head out of the bathroom and wear the clothes Slate has lent me. As I wear, I look in the mirror and find him watching and I jump out in shock, putting a hand on my chest where my beating erratically heart lies. "Goodness, stop doing that," I mutter, annoyed. He smirks at me. I roll my eyes, then a blush creeps up on my face as I remember that the shorts are still above my ankles, giving him the view of my now clothed-in-boxer groin. I turn around, hiding myself and immediately reach for the shorts and pull it upwards. He groans, as if annoyed that I hid my precious thing inside. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Around the city," he simply mutters, turning around and walking away. I frown at his disappearing figure and shrug. He acts like a kid. I throw on the V-neck shirt and look myself in the mirror. I really look human, and vulnerable, and powerless.

Walking up the living room, I see him casually sitting on the couch, staring into a distance. When his eyes meet mine, I shudder again as I see that his eyes look really black and that's kind of creeping me out. He stands up, smoothens his tank top, and motions for me to follow him. Then he halts to a stop.

Slate turns around, looks at me for a few seconds before raising his index finger and points it at me. I take a step back, as if someone has pushed me and I feel suffocated all of a sudden. I glare at him, and see him grinning up at me widely. "There. There's an invincible thread that is wrapped around you, so if you decide to take off, then I could just drag you back." He has a sly smirk tugged on his lips and I roll my eyes at him, taking a deep breath, calming down myself. He motions for me to follow him and I follow suit, checking and watching how his back flexes as he strides his way out of the apartment. Since we're on the 16th floor, it's either we take the elevator or use the stairs. I'd rather use the stairs than be in a single room with him. As I attempt to use the stairs, he immediately lifts his index finger and with just one flick, I take a step back and he grins at me, pointing at the elevator and I give him an icy glare.

We take the elevator, and Slate pushes the G button and I wait in vain, wanting this torture to end. I busy myself, thinking, replaying the memories when I was still an angel, and it feels good to have those memories. Once the elevator makes a sound, the metal door opens and both Slate and I get out.

"First stop will be... um, Brooklyn Bowl... I think it's located in Wythe Avenue," he says, looking up high in the sky as if the answers are there, and then he trains his eyes on me.

"Oh no don't look at me," I say, shaking my head. "I have no idea about this place. Remember?"

"Oh right," he nods, agreeing with me. "It's definitely in Wythe Avenue."

"What's Brooklyn Bowl by the way?" I ask him as we begin to squeeze into the sea of people. As we're on the street, I can see the view of the bridge and it looks magnificent. Although it's much more beautiful to look at in the night, when the lights are turned on across the cables. "Is that a restaurant? I wish it's a restaurant. I'm kind of hungry."

He halts to a stop, and my face hits his hard back. He turns around and hums. "You're hungry? Well... how about Coffee Colette? Oh... Juniper! Or we could go to SEA Thai or Two Door Tavern." I look at him incredulously, as if he has grown another him. I feel like I'm too dumb, with no idea what he's talking about. From the looks of it, he must have been staying here for quite some time now, considering that he knows a lot of places. "Right, right, you have no idea where you are. Brooklyn. Ah, Brooklyn. We shall go to Coffee Colette. It's just located around the corner of N 9th Street, on Berry Street. Come follow!" As if I have a choice if I don't follow, I think bitterly, trailing behind the demon like a puppy.

We walk for a couple of minutes, and my legs are now aching. If I were still an angel, and if I still had my wings, I would have flown already just to not tire myself, but I'm a mere human who has a mortal capabilities only. Sighing out loud, we continue to walk and Slate beams once he sees the place. But store is named Café Colette, not Coffee Colette. This makes him frown, then he scratches his head, then shrugging. We head inside and the smell of food instantly invades my nostrils, tickling it.

The store has a vintage look, with the walls painted white and the wooden seats polished, it really looks good. The store is not really small, but not really large either. There are a couple of people, mostly wearing office suits, and they either have coffees in their hand or newspapers. There's a curve bar just on the corner, and there are a lot of good looking ladies taking the people's order and Slate heads toward that direction. He looks at the menu and smiles at the girl named Jenna.

"I'll get... Chicory and Fried Chicken Salad." He turns to look at me. "And my boyfriend will have the same." I frown at his choice of word and I look at the girl named Jenna, and mouth to her 'we're just friends' and the girl smiles at me, which makes Slate frown at the girl, which results to Slate tightening the thread around my neck, which results to me softly kicking him on the sheen. "And two Iced Tea."

The demon turns around immediately after broadcasting our order and I look at Jenna and say thank you, and Slate decides to pull the thread and I'm forced to take a seat with him on the corner, far from where I can see Jenna. Slate is gritting his teeth and I shrink back in fear, looking away and I can feel his gaze burning the side of my face.

"When I say you are my boyfriend, you are my boyfriend," Slate says through gritted teeth and I nod meekly, still not looking at him. He puts his hand underneath my chin and forces me to look at him, and I nod once again, fear evident in my eyes. "Good." He says, smiling brightly. This demon is bipolar.

After waiting for a few minutes, our order has been served and it's served by Jenna. I smile brightly at her, winking and she seems to blush, turning around and walking away almost immediately. Slate stomps my foot and I wince in pain, glaring at him. Just by looking at the food, it looks very delicious. The demon begins to gobble the food down rather fast and I, being a graceful angel I am, eat slowly, savoring the food and how the taste explodes in my taste buds and I let out a moan of pleasure as I eat, shutting my eyes. When I open them, Slate is looking at me with an open mouth, brow arched and I flush.

Slate and I eat in silence, and after eating, Slate leaves a couple of dollars on the table and we head out. As we pass Jenna by, I thank her and Slate basically drags me out of Café Colette, and that's when the roaming around the city starts.

He shows me a few buildings here and there, and we even get the chance to walk through the bridge and I feel so happy. As we take a walk on the bridge, I can clearly see how beautiful the East River is, and it's perfect. The birds chirp loudly as they fly high up in the sky. The river is as calm as my mother, and just by looking at it, I realize how I'm longing for my mother's beautiful face. I want her comfort. I know that if ever she sees this beautiful river, she will love it just as much as I do.

We visit the Bushwick Inlet Park, Music Hall of Williamsburg, Williamsburg Cinemas, and the Metropolitan, which is kind of awesome since this is the first time I've seen a train. Then after visiting Metropolitan, we head to the Union Pool, Alligator Lounge, and we decide to eat again, this time, in The Bagel Store. After eating, Slate decides to go in Martinez Playground.

By the time we get home, it's already 5:47 and I feel exhausted. It's actually fun. Roaming around the city, I mean. Never once I have given the thought of escaping away from the demon, until now, but then again even if I have thought of that earlier, I wouldn't be able to escape because of the thread invisibly wrapped around me.

But I must admit; today is a good day. With the demon.

e