"It's been a long time since I came around

Been a long time but I'm back in town

This time I'm not leaving without you."

- Lady Gaga, You and I

Knowing that Slate will leave in a matter of days has me getting lonely. I want to feel his presence around me – Hell, I want to see him every time. I feel like there's going to be a missing puzzle piece whenever he's not around me.

Now I'm trying to isolate myself, kind of practicing, because Slate leaving is inevitable. In fact he might get called now and leave immediately than wait for few more days.

Slate notices what I'm doing and tries to talk me out of it, stating that he'll just be gone for a few days yet he can't tell me how many days. He just keeps saying that it's just a few days, but who is he kidding? I'm not stupid. I know that he'll be gone for so many days – it could take a week or a month. Don't ask me why I know – I just do.

Surprisingly Slate doesn't do anything that will force me to acknowledge him. He just keeps letting out an exasperated sigh here and there, or whenever his eyes meet mine and I'd avoid it. Right now I'm staring at the city of Brooklyn – the sky is a bit dimmer, dark clouds swirling above the buildings of Brooklyn city, indicating that it's going to rain sooner or later. Looking down, though they just look so tiny like ants up here from where I'm seated on the floor cross-legged, the mortals are starting to run – some are jogging as they must have forgotten to bring umbrellas. Weather news must have forgotten to inform them. Much people don't really like the rain whereas I do. The winter, the autumn, the spring, and the winter – I love them all. People don't see it, but they really need those weathers. Except for the storms.

"Hey, are you mad at me?" Slate's voice suddenly shocks me and I jump a bit, whirling my head around to glare at him. He gives me an apologetic smile, something that he usually doesn't do. It makes me happy (though I'm going to try to hide it) that he can give that kind of smile to me. "Sorry if I scared you. So are you still mad at me?"

Am I mad at Slate? I'm not. "No, I'm not, Slate. You know that." I whisper, shaking my head and looking out to the city of Brooklyn through the window. The clouds get darker and darker as each second passes by. Slate takes a seat beside me, cross-legged, and I scoot beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. I hope he doesn't mind. When my head rests on his shoulder, he doesn't tense or jerk my head away, he just lets my head rest on his broad shoulder, one of the things I like about his physical features. "It's just that... Slate, you will be gone for God knows how long, and the last time you have left me... I nearly got killed had not Maki interfered and saved me."

Remembering the day I almost got killed, I shudder at the memory – I'm still thankful at Maki for saving me. It's because of him that I'm still living here, with Slate, in our unit in the city of Brooklyn. Slate tenses when I mentioned Maki's name. Slate really hates Maki, or Dantalion. I don't really know why Slate hates him – it seems like he just does without any valid reasons. But then again, I have yet to know the background of Slate and Maki, and they must have had a sour past for them to be like this – hating each other.

Turning my body, I look at him and see that his jaw is clenched and now I'm contemplating whether I should put my arms around him tight, or do nothing at all. Slate turns his face to look at me, and his lips are set in a thin line, and his gaze is hard on me. It feels like he's stripping every inch of me with the intense look in his eyes.

I squirm against his intense gaze, getting uncomfortable. I shouldn't have mentioned Dantalion's name – his name has an effect on Slate, and it's not the good kind of effect. It triggers something inside him that I have yet to know, or it will remain a mystery to me. Perhaps if Slate trusts me enough (do demons trust?), he'd tell me everything about his past and himself.

"Were you hurt that day?" he asks me, voice shaking in anger as his eyes darken. "Tell me."

"No, I wasn't," I respond, shaking my head. I face him again, wanting to really hug him but can't find the courage to do so. If I hug him, would he be offended? Would he like it? Is he comfortable enough with me for him to let me hug him? I move a muscle, pushing myself to just give him a hug but something stops me, which I don't know what. Perhaps it could be how tensed he is, or I feel like he's being dangerous right now. My arms are wide open, hanging in the air, and slowly I drop it. "No, I wasn't."

Then his arm snakes around my waist, pulling me closer and I flush, cheeks heating up at the mere action. His body is warm, just like always and what I always expect to feel; he runs the pads of his fingers across the skin of my arm, and it sends a shiver down my spine. "I'm..." he lets out a sigh. "I'm sorry."

To say I'm shocked when I realized that he said sorry to me is an understatement, I'm beyond shocked. He never apologized. Slate never apologizes. Demons never do. But the fact that Slate said sorry, means that they can be sorry, which means they have the capability to think that everything should not be destroyed. And Slate proves it to me with just a one single sorry. "For what?" I ask him.

"For not saving you," replies Slate, eyes downcast, as if he's ashamed. This time I hug him because I know this is what he needs. Never would I have thought that I would be comforting a demon someday, but I guess life has a way of surprising everybody, I guess. "I should have been there; I should have been the one to save you rather than Maki. I should have been the one who carried you to your safety, and not just some random demon who keeps following you."

"Wait, what?" I ask him, dumbfounded. I must have not heard him right. Maki is following me? And he keeps doing it? "Maki?"

His jaw clenches again, and the intensity in his eyes grows harder. Based on his expression, I already know that he's telling the truth. Maki is following me. He doesn't nod or give an answer, though. Why would Maki follow me? Slate could be mistaken, right?

As if hearing my internal battles, he says in a harsh tone, almost spatting the words out of his lips, "He's interested on you, Adrian. That demon lusts after you."

Maki is lusting after me? Then my eyes widen in realization, mind processing what Slate has said to me. I open my mouth to say something, but the words are pushed back down my throat, which leaves me no other choice but to close it. In my head I'm making a lot of reasons and statements to counter his allegations, but then again, Slate is a demon, so he knows what he's saying. In fact Slate could have lusted after me. Does he still lust after me? The thought of him lusting after me doesn't shake me to my core. In fact it seems like he has woken inside me and, even though I'm ashamed to admit it, he wakes up my mini me. God, what a mortal thing to say.

But thinking that Slate has been in this world for so many years, probably hundreds or possibly thousands, he could have lusted after any mortal he saw, it has me feeling jealous. Does he want someone right now? Does he want a mortal right now rather than me? God, what am I thinking? Why am I thinking about this?

"Look, once I leave here, I'm going to put spells here in this room," he states, the hands on his side clenching and unclenching. His eyes bore into mine, keeping me glued. "You're not going to get out of this room. You gotta let me know what you would like to have to keep yourself entertained while I'm gone before I go. I'm doing this so he wouldn't be able to creep on you. That or..."

"Or..." I press.

The demon in front of me remains silent, lips pursing, then after a few seconds of thinking, he says "Or I gotta mark you,"

Furrowing my brows in confusion, I ask, "So? What? Is it going to be painful?"

"No and yes in your case," he responds. Then he looks away, hiding his face as the time stretches out. My hands are getting clammy, eager to know what marking means for a demon. If Slate is the only demon who would mark me, then I'm fine with it – I know Slate. He's not going to hurt me, or let anything harm me. Slate turns around, eyeing me for a second as I wait anxiously. "Marking means I claim you as mine; it's not going to be painful. On the other hand, you get to spend eternity with me, and that's going to be painful, trust me, Adrian."

"Um,"

"Yes, um, Adrian, um." He says, slightly annoyed. I'm getting the sense that he doesn't like my reaction at all. "That's not an option for you, Adrian. I don't want to spend eternity with you." Ouch. To be honest, that's a blow on me. I mean, am I really that annoying for him to deny me that? Do I want to spend an eternity with him? I don't know. Would I want to spend the eternity with him in the future? I don't know. Seeing the expression on my face, his face softens as he looks at me. "I didn't mean it like that."

"It' okay, Slate." I say, eyes downcast, finding my lap interesting suddenly. My fingers fiddle with each other, my heart aching as his words run inside my head. "I mean, why would you want it? It's probably going to suck." I let out a chuckle with the hope to remove the pain in my heart and the awkwardness in the air. Hopefully the tension, too, because I still feel it lingering in the air.

"Adrian..."

Without saying anything, his arms shot forward and curl around me, pushing me into him and I let myself be crushed by his strong arms. I like the feel of his arms around me – I love it. I love the way it makes me feel; it makes me feel protected. I lean into his touch, wanting more of it. Every time his skin makes contact with mine, it burns and leaves a tingling sensation.

"You know that I really don't mean that, right?" Slate leans down and whispers into my ear. "I think I do."

"You think that you mean it?"

"No, dumbass," he lets out a chuckle, resting his chin on my shoulder. As he chuckles, his chest vibrates, and I find it cute. "I think I do want to spend eternity with you. That means more teasing, more making fun of you, more... more... I guess moments."

"Moments..." I say, testing the word on my tongue. "Yeah, moments. More moments. I think that's going to be so cool." I agree, nodding my head. Having a lot of moments with Slate the demon isn't really a scaring thought.

"We're going to have a lot of moments if you spend eternity with me, Adrian," he says and his voice sends a shiver down my spine. The way he says it, it sounds so sincere, so wishful, and it's making me heart do somersaults.

Tipping my head up, he looks down on me; I'm facing his chin whereas he's facing mine, and then he leans down, planting his lips with mine and it feels so good and heavenly. "Yeah, my demon, we're going to create a lot..." I murmur, then he leans down again to plant his lips against mine. It's the best.

Hello guys! I'm sorry if I wasn't able to update right away. I've been sick, and I still am - Good Lord, runny nose is one of the worst. But hey, I'm recovering fast. So let me know your thoughts about this chapter by commenting below! I did my best to make this interesting and sweet, and I hope I succeeded. As usual, the first one to comment will have this chapter be dedicated for him/her!

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