"So deep in my head even the ocean's jealous of you. there's hunger in you and there's a satiability you had claimed only I could give. it's a lie, i see it clear in your eyes but I clamp my mouth shut and wait. i wait, and i wait, and i wait till your scent is too much to bear but i'm already six feet deep in it, slippery bathroom tiles under my feet as i sit with my knees pulled against my chest. what a cop out, I decided to dance with the devil by myself and now that his fingers are tipping my chin up with tears rolling down the sides; i look for somebody else to blame. he's a hundred sins wrapped into one, each layer falls from brawny shoulders the closer I get. funny, isn't it? the devil himself has come to take me to salvation. if he was to drag me through the depths of hades in exchange of another kiss; i'd carve the shape of his lips onto my grave." Cecilia was born cursed with blindness. She takes extreme interest in the underworld. However when she ends up with a demon bond to her, there's two choices she could make, ask the demon to solve all her problems and end up paying the price he asks in exchange or let him drag her to the depths of Hades. "Even with your red eyes of a demon, you seem closer to heaven than to hell," She tells him, a hand on his cheek. He begs to differ.
Salvation; a term used to describe deliverance from a sin and it's consequences. For some, it's protection from damage, harm and loss while for other's repentance of the deed's they've done. It includes death and separation from god as we know him. While I had never been a religious person myself, partially felt as if I was an athiest, my belief in salvation arose after I met him. It's a little difficult to tell the story by myself but the following pages are all I could write down, all I could think of.
Still vivid in my memory was the day I had first met him. My toes were pittering with rain water and my father's car stood a couple feet away from me. The town had never been more glum, it felt like the arrival of all things dark all as once. A heavy cloud hung low in the sky and the grey buildings were getting painted a darker shade by the water. He was thunderous even in the way he walked that day, powerful, sleek and with a look that screamed 'I'm here only for business'. The man with the black umbrella had an unfamiliar aura to him. He was serene and calm even in the unusual rain, I had recognized the difference when he stepped into the department store. His shoes came to a clacking halt to my right. The lady who owned the store was perhaps outside somewhere bargaining for fruits.
"Oh it's raining so much," he had grumbled, perhaps agitated. Ryesville had never seen such rain before. It talked of somebody's arrival. Somebody who was here to hold other people's departure.
"Would you like to buy an umbrella then?", I suggested, placing my thin gloves away to direct my way to the racks where the umbrellas were. "What size do you want it to be?"
"Are you blind?", he snorted a little and I turned on my heels to what direction I assumed he was in. "I already have an-"
"Yeah," I interrupted and then a beat of silence followed my response. "I am blind."
"Oh, I apologise for being insensitive," he had muttered softly. There was so much to unpack in his voice. So unfamiliar, so warm and so, so, so distant at the same time. Who was this man? "I wasn't paying enough attention to notice."
"That's fine," It wasn't fine. "Would you like to purchase something or are you only here to find relief from the rain. If so, please grab a chair and rest well." The bell of the back doro rung indicating Mrs. Whyre's arrival. She wore boots and stopped very near me.
"He's a bit uncommon looking, eh?", she asked in a soft voice next to my ear and I whipped my head around, almost spraining it. From what I had heard, She was a short, stubby and extremely friendly shop keeper who happened to engage with almost everybody for hours on an end. Mrs. Whyre was one of the reasons I loved visiting the local market so much. My father's reputation wasn't all that great outside town but here, he was a considered a hero. Some even worshipped him. She was one of those who did.
Eh, could never be me.
"Certainly," I smiled a little. She dragged a stool to sit next to me. "Is he sitting?"
"Yeah he's quite far from us," Mrs. Whyre whispered. "I doubt he can hear us. Did you catch his name? He looks new in town."
"I didn't, his presence feels very unfamiliar to myself," I confessed quietly. "Must be here for business. What do you think?"
"Ah, Miss Barlowe, I doubt he's here for good business, man's wearing a golden serpent ring."
It was considered ominous here. People said only those with murderous or satanic intents fashioned such rings. I used to laugh at it. Of course, nothing religious made sense to me and though I respected their beliefs, it was utterly foolish to consider a piece of jewellery so unlucky. "The younger kids these days," Mrs. Whyre sighed, a little exasperated. "You never know if it's just their style or if they're here to kill."
Right. I wasn't seriously going to be scared of a ring. "Should you leave so soon? Ryen's coming to fetch you." She told me and all I did was nod. The stranger's presence was too strong for my liking, I couldn't help but want to leave. Right as I stood up to gather my stuff, a chair screeched as if somebody pushed it back and a whoosh of air passed my face.
The stranger had left the shop.
"Good day Miss Barlowe, be careful on your way back," Mrs Whyre warned gently. "The roads are slippery when it rains." I left with another nod.
"Just take me home please," I mumbled, carefully placing my dirty shoes in one corner once I was in the car. The driver only revved the engine to life. Apparently he was too scared of my father's anger to talk to me directly. It was funny, I hadn't quite learned to respect the man since I never felt the need to but to see others shrivel up at the sound of his voice was hilarious.
It was a five minute drive from the market and I could barely enjoy the rain before the car came to a halt. I rushed in before the downpour could get the better of me. My feet were slightly slippery against the wooden flooring but I was sure I could make it to the living room before falling. I stopped to snoop into my father's 'study' which seemed more like a scheming room to me and from the noises I could make out that there were at least two other people in the room. Good thing he was busy. I had no intentions of chatting with him. The hall outside was empty, not a single sound was heard and my shoulders immediately dropped in relaxation.
"You should be a little more alert," a sharp whisper to my right. "Miss Barlowe."
I spun around with a short gasp, fright written clear as the day on my face when I realised that it was a fairly familiar voice. The man from the department store!
My heart jumps to my throat when I catch a familiar scent. Why does it appear around me so often these days? I turn around looking for the owner frantically but I can't spot them. "How do you know me?" "How can I not?" "You're quite popular, I'm not, so I had no idea you'd be into me." "I'm not into you. I just like making friends." "Yeah sure, like you haven't been practically undressing me with your eyes." "I have not been doing that!" Two people who fall in love, one best friend, a lot of tears and pushing each other away. All Mia wanted at first was for Sam to accept his feelings so they could end up together, to help him out of his misery but now? Now all she wished was to push him away as far as possible even if he wanted to sacrifice everything for her. Her best friend, Jim, is more than confused and hurt. He knows he's losing her forever but there's nothing he could do now, is there?
After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"
The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."
Charlee was left at the altar and became a laughingstock. She tried to keep her head high, but ultimately lost it when she received a sex tape of her fiance and her half-sister. Devastated, she ended up spending a wild night with a hot stranger. It was supposed to be one-time thing, but he kept popping up, helping her with projects and revenge, all while flirting with her constantly. Charlee soon realized that it was nice having him around, until her ex suddenly appeared at her door, begging for another chance. Her tycoon lover asked, “Who will you choose? Think carefully before you answer.”
"I've warned you from the beginning. Don't marry him, but you won't listen." She stood close to me and smiled with concern. "You are not a woman worthy of a man as handsome, rich, smart, and virile as Blaze." My whole body trembled at her words. "Have you no shame?" I asked in a quivering voice. "Take a good look at yourself, Heather." She looked at me in the mirror. "You can't even look at your ugly face. Do you think Blaze can endure a lifetime of looking at that face?" Heather Bailey had a surprise from her husband that night: a divorce agreement. After a year of marriage and facing ups and downs, she couldn't believe Blaze intended to divorce her. But she was devastated when she saw him gazing lovingly at another woman because that person was closest to her. Shortly after she put her signature on their divorce papers, shock waves caught her up. Her flower shop was severely burnt, beyond repair. Her father's company collapsed, and her parents blamed her. She struggled to rebuild her life from the ground up and became more successful than ever. Having many customers who came from influential families, she started her action against Blaze. She won the very thing he wanted. But that was just the beginning.
Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.
"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.