Falling For The Demon: The Girl Who Taught Hell to Love

Chapter 5

The cold air whipped against us, making me shiver. I felt the hairs on my neck stand up, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the chilly breeze or the man standing right in front of me.

The way he watched me reminded me of a lion, as if he would pounce at any moment if I made a sudden move.

Despite my fear, I had to appear brave. I couldn't let him see that I was afraid of him. “What are you doing here?” I asked the first question that came to mind.

He tilted his head to the side. “Have you been crying?” he inquired, curiosity lacing his voice.

My eyes widened. Had I really been crying? I raised my hand to my face, wiping away any tears that might have been there. “No,” I responded quickly after confirming there was no dampness on my cheek.

Why would he care if I was crying? It wasn’t his business. Can’t a girl cry in peace?

“You do seem upset. You were in a better mood the last time we met,” he said, taking a step closer to me.

“You make it sound like we're friends. Newsflash: we aren't. The last time I saw you, I thought you were creepy. You vanished right in front of me!” I reminded him, then bit my tongue, realizing I had made a mistake by bringing that up. “Whatever. I'm leaving,” I quickly said, starting to walk away.

He closed the distance between us in an instant. “I didn’t say you could leave,” he said, his towering figure looming over me. “Aren't you curious to know what I am?”

The truth was, I was curious. I knew I would go home and rack my brain trying to figure out what he was, but I also knew that curiosity could be dangerous.

I stared up at his face, trying not to be mesmerized by his otherworldly beauty. “No,” I replied. “Can I go now? I had a pretty bad night. All I want to do is go home.”

He clicked his tongue as if he were showing sympathy. “He should have defended you when his friend spoke so poorly of you.”

“How did you—?” My eyes widened in surprise. "Were you spying on me—?"

"You are not important enough to be spied on."

I gritted my teeth. "Then I must not be important enough for you to waste your precious time on me either," I said, sidestepping him.

"I've got time to spare," he replied, blocking my path again.

I was starting to get irritated with him. "What do you want?" I asked begrudgingly.

A charming smile curved at the corners of his lips. "I am curious," he announced.

That makes two of us.

"About?" I asked.

"You, of course," he responded without missing a beat. "How are you able to see me? I understand you can communicate with the dead. A small population of humans can do that, but none of them have spotted me before."

I looked at him. "Had it ever occurred to you that they might have seen you but never actually acknowledged it?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. I am sure no one could see me," he said confidently. "I can only be seen when I want to be seen. The other day, you weren't supposed to spot me."

I raised my eyebrows at that. "Must be nice to possess that kind of ability," I sighed.

Invisibility. What I would give to have that now.

"So how are you able to see me?" he asked, getting back on track.

My eyes caught his again. "I have no idea how, but I am envious of everyone who couldn’t see you," I said, walking past him.

I felt his large hand grip my wrist, effectively stopping me in my tracks. "I didn't say you could walk away," he said, his grip tightening with authority.

I glanced at his hand before meeting his gaze. "I have no obligation to wait for your command. Remove your hand from mine, or I will—" I paused, realizing I had no clear idea of how I could threaten him.

The truth was, I had no clue what he really was.

"Or what? What will you do?" he challenged, a glint of mischief sparking in his eyes.

With a heavy sigh, I lowered my head. "Look, I don't know what you are. I have no idea how or why I can see you when you're in this... incognito mode," I explained, my voice steady and clear. "It may be hard to believe, but I assure you I am telling the truth."

"I am a demon," he declared, seeming utterly confident and even proud of his admission.

My eyes widened in bewilderment. I didn't expect him to reveal what he was.

"Where are your horns and wings?" I asked, genuinely curious.

His expression shifted, revealing a hint of surprise at my question.“Did you—why would you think that? Who told you that demons have horns and wings?” he asked, clearly mortified.

“Is it too stereotypical? Demons are usually depicted with horns and wings in nearly every movie featuring them,” I shrugged. “Wait—so that’s not true? You guys don’t have horns and wings?”

His nostrils flared in disbelief. “I can’t even imagine us with horns, but the wings? Yeah, we have them.”

“Where?” I pulled my hand away from his grip and circled around him to inspect his back. “There are no wings,” I said, a wave of disappointment washing over me.

“I just told you I’m a demon, and you’re worried that I don’t have wings? Aren’t you frightened? Even just a little?” He turned to face me, a spark of interest evident in his eyes.

Instinctively, I took a step back. “Yes, I am frightened," I admitted, though my tone seemed to convey anything but fear.

“You're lying.”

"It must be because I'm so used to seeing ghosts and talking with them. My brain just hasn't fully processed that you could be dangerous yet." I reasoned. That was the only explanation I could think of at that moment.

He studied my face for a moment, seeming lost in thought. "I would love to continue this conversation, but your date is on his way here with some drinks."

Thank goodness. I was worried he wouldn’t be able to find me.

"Pro tip: Don’t drink whatever he offers you. He spiked it with something," he warned.

I glared at him. "Dylan would never do something like that."

He smirked. "It's up to you whether you want to drink it or not. I was just being nice by letting you know what I know." He shrugged. "It looks like I have to go now, Arabella."

My jaw dropped in utter horror. "How do you know my name? You claimed I wasn't important enough to be spied on, yet it’s evident you’ve been watching my every move."

"I couldn't resist," he replied with a cheeky grin, his striking grey eyes twinkling with mischief.

I narrowed my eyes at him, suspicion brewing. "I don't know how things work in your world, but we have police here. I’m sure you’re aware of that."

"And I’m equally sure they can't touch me," he shot back, a smug smile creeping across his face. Suddenly, he glanced over my shoulder with a sigh. "Duty calls," he murmured, his reluctance palpable.

With a casual wave, he disappeared into thin air. I stood frozen, staring at the spot where he had been just moments ago, disbelief washing over me. Did that really just happen, or was I starting to lose my grip on reality?

"Hey, Arabella!" I heard Dylan call out, his voice slicing through my confusion. I turned to see him striding toward me, two cups in his hands. "I've been searching the entire mansion for you. I almost thought you’d left!"

I took a moment to gather my composure. "Just getting some fresh air," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Here," he said, halting right in front of me and extending one of the cups.

I eyed the cup with uncertainty. The demon guy had mentioned Dylan spiking my drink. What if he really did?

Clearing my throat, I reached for the cup he held out, but then quickly switched tactics. "I’ll take this one," I said with a tight smile, opting for the cup he had set down for himself.

Dylan's expression shifted noticeably, strain crossing his face. "Uh, sure," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of unease.

"Aren't you going to drink?" I asked, my gaze fixed on his untouched cup.

He let out a nervous chuckle, the sound barely masking his discomfort. "Um, I'm not feeling thirsty at the moment." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

It seemed the demon wasn’t lying after all.

I nodded slowly. "Same here. I think it's best if I head out now. My mother will probably start looking for me, and I don’t want to add to her worries." I was desperate to leave this party.

I couldn't bear the thought of spending another moment with Dylan after uncovering his true intentions.

He looked a bit let down. "I see. Do you want me to come—"

"No, that’s not necessary. I'll see you on Monday," I interrupted, handing the cup back to him. "Drink it when you get thirsty." I didn’t give him a chance to respond; I turned on my heels and walked away, leaving him there, his disappointment lingering in the air.

Where was Vanilla? I hoped it was alright to leave her behind for now. After all, she was a ghost, and I was sure she could manage on her own.

I couldn't shake the thoughts of that demon man in the bus. How long had he been tailing me to know my name? He seemed nice enough, but I was well aware that appearances can be misleading.

Still, I made a mental note to thank him if our paths crossed again. If he hadn’t alerted me about the spiked drink, who knows what might have happened?

After changing my clothes at the restaurant, I headed home, casting occasional glances over my shoulder to see if either Vanilla or that demon would appear out of thin air.

"Arabella!" I heard Vanilla call my name.

"Did you have fun?" I asked without turning to look at her.

"You could say that. It was entertaining to watch people my age do all sorts of silly things," she replied, a mischievous tone in her voice. "What about you? How did things go with Dylan?" she asked as she walked by my side.

This time, I glanced at her. "You won't believe what happened," I sighed. "It turns out Dylan isn't as nice as he seemed." I then recounted everything that had occurred at the party.

"It never crossed my mind that Dylan could be cunning," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "What about that man you met at the party? Is he really a demon?"

I thought about it for a moment. "I'm not sure," I finally admitted. "He vanished right in front of me. What else could he be if he's not a demon?" My curiosity was piqued.

"What if he's just a soul like me and is lying to you?" Vanilla suggested, her voice laced with uncertainty.

I shook my head before she could finish speaking. "That's not possible. He was able to touch me," I told her, watching her eyes widen in surprise.

She reached out and tried to touch me, but once again, she couldn't."I already don't like him," Vanilla grumbled, prompting a chuckle from me. "Do you think you’ll see him again?" she inquired.

I smiled to myself and replied, "I believe I will. I have a feeling he will come looking for me again."

Vanilla paused for a moment, lost in thought, before speaking up. "I think you should avoid him, even if he does come to you. He might try to touch you. Do you know what that means? He could hurt you."

I nodded in understanding. "I’m fully aware of that, Vanilla. But I don’t think he will hurt me. He looked out for me at the party. Why would he do that if he intended to harm me?"

"I don't know, Arabella," she shook her head, concern etched on her face. "It's already enough that you can communicate with the dead. I don't think having a demon in your life would be wise."

"It's not like I have a choice in this, Vanilla. Let's wait and see what life has in store for me," I said, trying to maintain a sense of optimism. "Can you check if my brother is home tonight? I had a rough night, and I really don't want to see him right now."

She nodded, "Of course." She agreed immediately and then vanished into thin air.

I let out a deep sigh, grappling with the reality that he could ever cause me pain. If he had truly intended to hurt me, wouldn’t he have done so by now? Yet, Vanilla raised a compelling point. The presence of a demon in my life seemed like a daunting challenge, even for someone as resilient as I considered myself to be.

Would he seek me out again, or was he merely a fleeting presence, like a passing cloud in my life? The uncertainty lingered, leaving me to wonder about the undefined nature of our connection.