"If I can't find the cure, I'll

I'll fix you with my love

No matter what you know, I'll

I'll fix you with my love."

- Lady Gaga, The Cure

, staring right back at us. The foods were great and awesome. It's not because of the fact that Slate made it, it's because he really is a good cook. He's good at the kitchen. I kind of expected that – he has been living on Earth since forever. I would assume that he has done a lot of things already, did things that humans normally and usually do.

We remain watching the city and the sky as a comfortable silence looms over us. I turn my head to look at him, admiring everything about him. This demon sitting right next to me is the reason why I feel this way. He's a demon that has changed. He's the reason why I don't want to go back to my homeland; the reason why I don't want to be found. I'm enjoying sitting next to him, or having him around me. He is a demon, I'm an angel, and by nature, we are enemies, but deep in our hearts, we know that we aren't.

Slate turns to look at me, his eyes boring into mine. His eyes glisten, and his face becomes angelic and more handsome as the light of the moon spotlights him. My breath hitches because never he once he looked at me like that. There's this emotion in his eyes that is just overwhelming for me to see. Then I remember something from my dream that I had. I saw his face; he was in the heavens. He was an angel. It could be anyone else, but the angel in my dream and Slate's face share a strong resemblance. Everything was white, but it all burned down to blackness when the angel's light disappeared. I thought I had seen my parents, but they were blurry, and I wasn't sure if they were really my parents.

"You have a worried look on your face," he states softly, his hand cupping my face and I lean into it, feeling the warmth of his hand. "Mind telling me what's bugging you?" He doesn't demand. He wants me to tell him what's bugging me in my own will, and I appreciate that.

Looking down at my lap, suddenly finding it interesting, I heave up a sigh. "Just a dream I had," I begin, letting out a chuckle once I think that it's a ridiculous thing that the angel in my dream and Slate were just one person. It's a ridiculous dream, that's it. The heaven hadn't turned into hell. "I thought I saw you in my dreams – you were in the Heavens, and then... the Heavens turned into Hell. White turned to darkness. I thought I saw my parents, too, but... it's just a dream. I shouldn't be bothered by that."

For a moment he tenses, his face turning white as if he has seen a ghost, which would be a ridiculous thing since he's a demon. Then he looks away, his jaw clenching, and I see how he has become tense. I furrow my brows, trying to decipher why his mood has changed suddenly. Then he looks at me again, his hand covering mine. "You shouldn't be."

I have this feeling that he's hiding something from me. An important thing. But if he doesn't want to tell me what it is, then that's fine. If he wants to tell me, he'll do it. And I know that someday, he's going to. I just need to wait for that time to come.

Giving him a small smile, I squeeze his hand, letting him know that everything is going to be okay. Slowly, he leans down, his eyes boring deep into mine, holding a lot of emotions. My heart races as his face nears mine, and it stops every time he blinks. Gently, his lips land on mine. My thoughts become scattered, and my mind goes blank as his lips move with mine.

His other hand rests at the back of my neck, guiding me as he kisses me passionately. My heart feels like it's about to explode – even in the kiss, it feels like he's pouring everything into it – every emotion, and I don't mind. I like it. Heavens, I love it. I kiss him with passion just as much as what he gives.

Kissing under the moonlight is romantic, and never once I imagined that I would be doing this with anyone, much less with a demon. But hey, life is full of surprises. Is this called love? Am I feeling love now? When I stare into him, I feel something inside my stomach, and my heart always beats faster. Is that love? Apparently, I don't know. And I wish to have the answer soon.

Slate's free hand begins to roam around my body, making me feel hot and bothered. As his fingertips gently grace my skin, I become breathless. His touch and kisses make me feel that way. He has that power over me. He nips on my bottom lip, which makes me moan and I part my lips open as he asks for an entrance. It's not forceful – he asked for my permission, and that's okay. He slips his tongue inside my mouth and his tongue touches mine, which I find erotic. His tongue roams around my mouth – every inch, every part, there his tongue is. His hand grabs the hem of my shirt, gently tugging it. He pulls away from the kiss, which disappoints me. His lips are warm and soft, and I want his lips' attention more and more and badly. He takes off my shirt, admires my naked chest and stomach, and goes back to kissing me. Both of his hands are now touching my chest, each index finger of his hands swirl around the buds. Apparently, those actions ignite something inside me and as each time passes, my pants tighten.

"Can I make you feel good?" he asks me as he pulls away from the kiss for the second time.

With no hesitation, I give him a response, "You always do, so yeah."

He lets out a smile – not the sly one, but the genuine one. Sometimes, I miss the sly smirk and smile he gives me, but the smile he's giving me right now is better. My chest is exposed to the cold wind, but he's there to keep me warm, and that's fine. I love it. He goes back on kissing me, as if he can't get enough of my lips, and I'm not complaining.

Picking me up, never breaking the kiss, he transport up back into his room with just a flick of his fingers and he gently lays me down on his bed. He breaks the kiss, his fingers tracing the outline of my face. In his eyes, I see it now clearly. The need, the hunger, the pleasure, it's all in his eyes.

Leaning down, he begins to plant soft kisses across my jaw down to my neck, gently nipping my skin. I let out a moan out of pleasure as his lips keep sucking the sensitive area around my neck. My head gets cloudy as his lips work its wonder on my neck. Both of his hands go down on me, his fingers hooking into the band of my pants, then he slowly tugs it down, completely exposing me to him.

I never knew that this, what's happening right now, will be this euphoric to me. There's so much pleasure, so much joy, and it cannot be contained. He's bringing me all I deserve, and I'm loving it. This is so, excuse my French, fucking awesome. I know that I shouldn't be saying a bad word for a reason that I'm supposed to do the good deeds and things, but when I'm around him, I just realize, I can be anyone I want. I can say what I want, and he will never judge me for it. He might tease me for it, but I know that will never mean it.

Slate takes a hold of me and it brings an overflowing euphoric feeling straight to my heart, and I become more breathless as each time passes. He caresses my skin as if he's admiring a jewel that is probably the most precious thing in the world. He hovers his lips on my skin, near the collarbone, and he slips his tongue out, the tip teasing me.

"Holy Hell," I say breathlessly as he nips on my skin.

He lets out a chuckle, the one that is so deep and manly. "I love it when you curse," he states, giving me a seductive wink. And he never fails to seduce me, to woe me. Good Lord, how can he be so handsome and awesome and... damn it.

Cupping his face, I bring my lips to his, wanting to taste those sinful, soft and perfect lips of his. "It's hardly a curse." I manage to let out, still feeling breathless. Then he completely takes my pants off, throwing it somewhere around his room. Whatever clothes we were wearing right before this happened, it's all gone now, thrown away somewhere around this room.

His body pressing against mine is just what I need in my life right now. I have never experienced this pleasure before and I doubt that anyone could make me feel this way but Slate only. I can't breathe, can't move, can't think properly.

"Tell me what you want," he whispers, his voice husky, in my ears. His voice sends shiver down my spine, and it makes the hair at my arms stand up. His voice is so sexy and manly, and it's like music to my ears.

Tell me what you want, his voice rings in my ears; the words keep replaying like it's a broken record inside my head. "You," I say with no hesitation and doubt in my voice. "I only want you."

His eyes bore into mine; the emotions in his eyes never fade. They just stay there, as if his eyes are the home of his emotions. I study his face, admiring how perfectly sculpted his face is. It's like he doesn't have any flaws at all. Slate presses himself into me, leaving no gap between us, and I gasp when I feel how hard he is down there.

"Say it again," he says gruffly, the tip of his nose lightly hovering across my jaw.

"I want you, Slate," I mutter, my voice almost breaking down. "I want you, Forneus."

I have never spoken his real name, but right now seems like the appropriate time to let it out of my mouth. I think Forneus is a great name, especially if it belongs to him, and it does. Slate's lips tug into a small smile, then brings his lips down on mine. He continues to rub me down there, my member, and it seems like he doesn't have any plans to stop at all. His hand leaves my member, then goes to my inner thigh, massaging it, then he begins to lift it up. His other hand, its fingers, begin to rub my... hole. Which makes me blush like hell. How come rubbing my hole brings me pleasure? Seriously.

"Do you trust me?" he asks me. He knows I do. I do trust him. I freaking trust him with my life.

But instead of saying a sarcastic comment, I only nod my head vigorously.

"I want to hear it,"

"Yes, I trust you," I say just to get him move faster.

"Say my name,"

"Slate, Forneus, Slate, Forneus," I'm practically begging now. No, scratch time, I'm begging now. With the way my voice is, I know that I'm begging. "Just please continue with whatever you're doing to me."

Just right before he continues, there's a knock somewhere around the room, which jolts us up both. My eyes frantically search around the room, and when my eyes find the floor-to-ceiling windows, there's a winged demon staring right at us.

"What the actual fuck, Dantalion?" he mutters angrily, glaring daggers at Maki.

I hide myself with the thick blanket on his bed, and stare in shame at Maki. I hope he didn't see anything.

"Sorry for cockblocking you, Forneus, but I just need your help."

"No, go away."

"Please," Maki says, though he word has been spit out. "I'm going to go in." Then he teleports himself inside the room.

"Fine, what is it? Let's be quick." Slate scratches the back of his head, not ashamed to Maki that he's still naked. "If this isn't important, I'm going to decapitate you, asshole."

Maki looks my way and throws me a wink, which makes Slate growl loudly. "Okay. But first, let me have something to drink."

Both Slate and I groan.

Well, it looks like whatever Slate has planned for tonight is ruined. But the thing is, I'm still hard, and he's still hard. How come they don't get awkward about this? I bury my face in the pillow in shame. Whatever. I just need to deal with this. And I just hope that once Maki is gone, then perhaps we can continue. Right? Right.

Sorry. I just had to. I'm sorry if I update late. It's just that, I'm still busy with work and my life and I need to pull myself together. Plus, Lana Del Rey has just released a new song and it's awesome. I feel like everybody is releasing songs and I just can't take it anymore. From Lorde to Lady Gaga to Paramore to Selena Gomez to Lana Del Rey. Why are they doing this to me? Anyways, I'm done with my rant. Thank you!

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