"Look at him, look at me,

That boy is bad, and honestly,

He's a wolf in disguise

But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes."

- Lady Gaga, Monster

The demon – Slate – spats to me, his voice coated with so much venom that I feel like it's going to tear my skin and make me die. I flinch, my eyes stay squinted, as if I'm still preparing for the blow that I know will not come; yet.

When I look at the demon Slate, his hand is raised in the air, still in a fist, and Maki is doing the same thing. The way they breathe, the way their chest heaves up and down, lets me realize that they have stopped fighting, and that I've really done something stupid that could get me killed. My whole body is frozen, feet stuck on the ground, as if it's somehow glued to it. Slate's nostrils are basically flaring, and the way he glares at me lets me know that I will be in a big trouble.

There are wounds on his face, which I can't bear to look at. They are really fresh, and blood is still oozing out. Same goes for Maki. When they were fighting, I have realized that I got tricked. He's a demon, just like Slate, but he's been way nicer than Slate. But I still remember the look he had on his face – he was so calm, so at ease, as if he was never afraid of what was coming. And he definitely knew what was coming. He scares me. I would like, or prefer, to see an angry Slate, than be fooled and stabbed behind my back.

"Stop fighting," I say, almost below a whisper, so low that I thought they didn't hear it. But they are demons, why am I surprised when they did? "You're going to... destroy the house with all the throwing and you might attract... humans. Mortal humans."

Maki bursts out laughing, as if what I've said is something that kids would love to hear. What I've said is not funny. What if his neighbors hear what the commotion was about? What if they go here, and they see two demons fighting? I roll my eyes and cross my arms across my chest, glaring daggers at Maki. He leans down on me, so close that the tip of our nose touches, and a blush makes its way into my cheeks, heating it up.

"Cute," he comments, grinning up at me.

This triggers again the demon behind me. Slate moves so fast, as if he's a phoenix, I don't see him move or do anything. All I know is that Maki is flying across the room. Slate scoops me up like a groom would do to his wife after their wedding ceremony, and his wings stretch out even wider that I've ever seen, and it begins flapping wildly, and soon enough, we're busting the roof of Maki's house and we're flying up high in the sky.

I look scared and confused, but somehow I feel calm. I feel... safe. Somehow. This confuses me. Why would I feel safe in the arms of a man, much less of a demon? I look down, and see that we've gone so high that the clouds are already blocking the view below. In fact I can't see anything but clouds.

Looking up, I see Slate's jaw is clenched. I see the tip of his horns protruding from his temple; I can't get a better view since his head is tipped upwards. Blood is still oozing out, some of it has already dried out across his bare neck. I make a face. There's still a blood, a liquid one, across his jawline and I brush it away, which makes him tenses. Nonetheless I continue to do it.

His jaw is so firm, and strong, and the stubbles on his chin are ticklish and soft against my fingertips. I actually like running my fingers across his stubble. He remains tensed under my touch, and I have this part of me that wants to make him calm, to let him know that I'm okay. I continue to do it, feeling the hair against my fingertips. I wait for him to snap at me, to tell me to stop what I'm doing, to let me know that he's uncomfortable, but he doesn't do anything. He just continues to fly, and fly, and fly, never speaking to me.

Realizing now, I leaned down my head and rest it on his bare chest, dried blood splattered across it. I look at him through my lashes, to see whether he minds or not. He doesn't act on it. It's either he's good at ignoring me or he's too mad at me that he can't afford to give me a glance or utter a word at me.

Despite that, I assume, he's mad at me, I still lean down, closer, and press myself against him because I like the warmth that seeps into my skin. The wind blows colder, he makes me feel warmer. That's better. In fact I like that his bare skin is pressed against mine; the feeling is something that I don't want to fade away. I could do this all day.

"Hmmm," I hum. I really like this. Without realizing it, my eyelids are already drooping down, blocking the view of his firm and set jaw and the stubbles on his chin. "You feel so warm." I murmur. "Is that what it feels like in Hell?" He chuckles; his chest vibrates, sending shivers down my spine. I like his hearing his chuckle. Finally my eyes shut open.

His skin still feels warm against mine and right now I wouldn't trade anything for this. I wouldn't trade anything for his skin pressed against mine. I smile to myself. I remember him pulling me closer, and I lean into him more. Best thing, I think as darkness finally settles in.

My face is pressed into a warm and hard surface. It feels like my face is pressed onto something hard, but soft. I don't know how to explain it. In fact, my whole body is pressed into a warm surface. I feel like I'm wrapped into something warm, making my insides tingle. I push myself closer, feeling the warmth it's giving me.

"Morning," a voice speaks; the thing that my face is resting on, it vibrates and I hum in response. It vibrates again – I kind of like the feeling.

Slowly, adjusting to the light, I open my eyes and eventually see the light seeping through the windows, lighting up the whole room. The first thing I see is the light, then the ceiling, then the organized things in the room. My brows furrow in confusion. Where the Hell am I? I rack my brain for any recollection of things that happened last night – I remember Maki bringing me to his home, then finding out that he's a demon, then Slate came in and busted the door open, and then both Maki and Slate fought. Then Slate punched him, with so much force and anger and hatred, so hard that Maki flew across the room and then Slate carried me bridal style and then flew into the sky. And then I remember something about feeling warm and fuzzy inside.

Tipping my head up slowly, I see Slate smirking a different kind of smirk (not the usual type smirk he always wears, which is the sly one) and see his eyes twinkling with something. Then it dawns on me: he has become my bed and pillow for the rest of the night. I slept with him. I slept with a demon. WITH A DEMON. IN THE BED, WITH ME. Then I realize: he carried me to his room, then took advantage of me, then slept with me. A demon slept in the bed... WITH ME.

I yelp out loud, scrambling to get out of the bed. It really freaks me out that someone is in the bed with me. I don't care if something has happened between us (why am I thinking that something happened between us?) or nothing, but it really freaks me out that someone, a guy – and a demon, has slept with me in the same bed. IN THE SAME FREAKING BED.

His hand shoots out, catching my wrist. Slate tugs me back in the bed with him, putting his arms around my waist, very tight, pulling me closer and tighter. He chuckles softly and I try to squirm my way out but he just wouldn't budge.

"Seems like you were enjoying me as a bed," he teases, tightening his hold of me. I glare at him, though my cheeks are tinting with a deep blush. "We should do this often."

"I-I-I... in your face!" I spat, trying to be tough, but it comes out as a squeak. "I so did not enjoy it!" My voice fails me. He barks out a laugh, which puts me to shame. Because, I have to admit this with shame and horror, I really like the warm feeling that he's giving me. There's a part of me that screams he's a demon, a blood-hungry creature, a tormentor of a mortal's soul, but there's a huge part of me that says ignore it and just make myself feel good by being so close to him.

He ignores me, as if I haven't said anything. He continues to hug me; he lowers his head until his chin makes contact with my bare neck, and something starts to escape my lips – I'm giggling. I squirm, trying my best to close down the gap between my chin and chest, but his chin is on the way. He continues to tickle me, and I go on full-blown laugh. I tip my head back, accidentally giving him more access; I can practically see him smirking, and his eyes twinkle evilly (not that kind of evil where he wrecks things and throws stuff, but a different kind of evil).

"S-S-Stop! Slate!" I gasp, trying to catch my breath.

He stops suddenly, looking at me through his lashes. His face is now close to mine, and I can see how beautiful and dark his brown eyes are. He's almost perfect – from the shape of his head to the features of his face. My heart races faster – I want to feel it against my fingertips, but I'm afraid that one move would bring something bad.

My breath hitches when Slate begins to lower his head down on me, while his eyes stare right back at mine, unflinching. My heart slams right back into my chest, faster than ever, as if it's running like a Ferrari. It rings in my ears, and I'm scared that he can hear the beat of my heart. Those lips, which I now consider as deadly and sinful, are inviting and tempting. I don't know why I have the sudden urge to close the gap between us, but I don't. I force myself not to. I don't want to put myself in a deeper mess.

His lips part, and I stare at it. The room grows warmer and warmer as each second passes by. The tip of our nose is touching now; I'm completely frozen, completely aware of how my heart beats like a drum. His eyes remain focus, holding my gaze, and the more I stare into his eyes, the fuzzier I feel and the warmer I get.

Slate pushes me but holds the gaze of our eyes. He pushes me only to make a room for himself, to get on top of me so he's basically straddling me. I can't speak. It feels like something is stuck down my throat. I want to tell him to back off, to get off of me, but something says to me that it's wrong to say, or it's not the right thing to say. Because I'd be lying if I claim that my body is not liking this. I'm sure as hell liking this. I definitely do.

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