Light To A Grey Heart

Mirabelle…A wondrous beauty.

The name compliment the meaning. Yet, I feel it does not describe her beauty to perfect precision. What is perfect precision is watching her as she makes every single move. The way that her fingers flip that page while she is reading, it is done effortlessly and elegantly. When she smiles at something pleasant, it is a curve that happens so naturally, it lights up her face like a million fireflies would light up hell.

She is everything a sinful man such as me would like to have in his presence. Yet, I do have her in my presence for only now, for only until she stops reading or when the sun starts fading.  I can say with certainty now that she will come to this park very often, hopefully, every day, and that there gives me a reason. But I have one problem.

I need to hunt a demon.

But I do not listen. I am sitting here and getting lost in an angel's eyes. That awkward feeling in my heart has not once faded when she consumes my mind. Every time I take my face away from fake-reading the paper, it just pops up again and knocks on that grey heart in an effort to just grow some light. I know that the moment she will be away, I will be back to who I am, the Devil's son, though something does tell me that feeling will remain.

I think I have perhaps not thought this 'wanting to feel a human' thing through.

Is this why humans are sinful because they can give another so much of what one desires. Yet, desire is such a strong word, the word that gives you that hint that you are about to sin. Though if a desire makes you happy, then why is it a sin? Is what I want then a sin?

Well, Damien, I think you should ask yourself that one again, of course! You are one day set to become the King of hell. Everything that you want is a sin. Humans should be forbidden from both demons and angels.

But put all these things aside, I cannot have this woman.

I don't even know what I am going to do with her once I have tasted the forbidden fruit.

Will we become one of those that sit in the park and take pictures? The only way that any woman could be with me is if she sins so badly that she ends up in hell.

But then she will go into her own loop of hell, and I cannot stop that. That is how things work. As with here with the humans, things work a certain way as it does by the law. Well, get your ass in hell, and it works by the law in hell, which is not pleasant. You do not come to hell to have a picnic. If I so much as find you smile in our loop of misery, then I turn it up a notch, and you will forget that you ever knew how to do it.

So, I beg to ask the question, "So, Mirabelle, do you come here often."

I listen as she starts to chuckle but a pitch too fast and pull her eyes away from the book that she is so intently reading, "Damien, you do know that is the worst pick-up line that you can get."

I only but shake my head at her, "What do you mean by pick-up line?"

She gasps at me in amazement as she now places her book on her lap. As she turns her body to face me completely, that goddamn awkward feeling pops up, but she continues.  "I mean, you are trying to pick me up. Aren't you?"

There is a slight hint of amusement that play in my brown eyes while I, too, now take my body to face her, and the moment I do that, my body completely loses control. But, "Mirabelle, if I wanted to pick you up, I would not try."

She looks at me confused as she slightly cocks her head, "So you are saying that you will not try to pick me up?"

"I will pick you up whether you like it or not," I say with a slight smirk on my face; then, even though I see those porcelain cheeks start to flush a soft pink, I carry on to speak. "Why waste my time trying if I know that I can do it."

With ears that are sharper than a knife, I listen to her as her soft breaths pick up a tiny hitch as her heart seems to react to my every word. I think I can safely say that Mirabelle is now too experiencing that awkward feeling too. Well, I think perhaps more than awkward, for I did come over a bit seductive. Yet, "So do you come here often?"

This time she does not have something sharp to say back, with lips that are still very much trembling; I listen to her as she whimpers, and god, the moment those stuttering words come out, I just come completely undone. "Why?" she ever so shyly asks. "Do you want to see me again?"

No hesitation is needed; I think the barrier has been broken before I even tried; I guess I should take my own advice sometimes. So not showing that I am more excited than a dog with a new fluffy toy, I lower my voice and lean in closer, "Yes. Can I see you again?"

Then when I think that both the uncomfortable feelings in my heart and my pants cannot get any worse, she leans in even closer. I can feel her cool breath play over my hot skin; it sends ripples down my spine, turning my body cold and cover it in a snowy coat. Though as she says, "Yes." I see the irises in her brown eyes completely blacken. I think, perhaps I know, but she wants me just as much as what I desire to feel her.

Yet, this is where I should stop for a moment and make to it clear that when I say that I want to feel Mirabelle, I only want to run my hands over her skin, and that is not a sin. But, and there seems to become quite a few of them, I am coming to the conclusion that perhaps, well, more obvious; I want to kiss those deep cherry lips.

But wait, I have overlooked something.

The sun is starting to set. I have not noticed the amount of time that I have spent in the park. I am indeed going to be sitting on a bench and stick out. I have forgotten in all this excitement that I shall require somewhere to stay. I am not human; yes, I can stay awake the whole damn night and day. But my father said to blend in; I am in sort of a predicament.

So I turn to Mirabelle, that has now also become aware of the time, "You do not perhaps know of anywhere I can stay in this city." She only but furrows her brows at me before I continue, "I am not really from here. I am in the city for business and would not be staying long." Yet, the confusion is still there, "I have forgotten during all this excitement that I need to be looking where I shall find myself sleeping tonight."

That is true. I have forgotten to not only look for a hotel to stay, but it has completely slipped my mind what I am here to do. That does prove a very fact to me; I do not care what that demon does to who. If I can get what I came here for, then I see this all as solved.

But my father would not agree, and he has been trying to call for several hours, which I have completely ignored. And as Mirabelle smiles at me again, I really could not care. Everything will fall in place. I know that she will give in to me, and then I can move on and go look for this goddamn pesky demon. Though first, I have to act like a human and go pretend that I need to sleep.

But I am fairly shocked, and this is where this humanity thing comes in, where they seem to care for each other. I have, on occasion, walked past several rooms where there is a loop of people just giving and giving to each other. I never understood that it could be a sin somehow, but I think I am yet to experience that for myself.

"I own a little, well perhaps not little, but I have a hotel where you can stay?"