Fixated in Time

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 14 (v.1) - What's in a Name?

Submitted: October 01, 2012

Reads: 89

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Submitted: October 01, 2012



Chapter Fourteen

I tug at Evan’s arm, lowering my body into bed and pulling him with me. He remains standing, his hand moving down my arm until his fingers interlock with my own. His face is tense and his eyes are lit with passion. I can practically see the wheels turning inside his mind, indecision skipping across his features.

“Listen, Stella….” Evan starts, looking away from me and running his hands through his hair.

I can feel those angel eyes still on me, attempting to penetrate my mind. If I were one hundred percent demon, that angel would be able to control my thoughts, my actions and my decisions. But I’m not fully demon. I’m only half. The other half of me is human and therefore, the angel’s tactics can do very little to me - except perhaps frighten me, of course. Maybe now the angel will stop referring to me as ‘demon.’ He has to realize by now there is more to me than my Evil side. Probably not though. Angels are stubborn beings.

Evan shakes his head, looking around my room.

“Stells, I want to stay. You know I do. I just don’t want our relationship to start out like this.”

Those angel eyes lighten a degree, pleased with Evan’s obvious rejection of me. Hiding my hurt, I nod my head at Evan, gesturing him to my bedroom door.

“Ok then. I trust you know your way out,” I mumble.

Evan grabs his jacket and tucks it under his arm. He leans forward and presses a soft kiss on my forward, tipping my chin up with his fingers.

“I’m doing this because I want to see where things go with us. You intrigue me. You entice me. I like you, Stella. A lot. I just don’t want to rush things.”

A small glimmer of hope blooms inside my chest. Perhaps Evan isn’t trying to reject me. He’s just trying to be a real gentleman. He is, after all, destined to be an angelic warrior one day. If anything, his behavior now is a testimony to his pure heart and selfless mind – two qualities an angel must possess.

I offer up a weak smile and nod my head in understanding.

“Probably for the best anyway,” I say. “Goodnight Evan. Thanks for driving me home.”

“It was my pleasure, Stella.”

Evan smiles and heads for the door. I hear his boots clicking down my living room hallway until he reaches the front door, opens it and then closes it behind him quietly. A certain stillness resides over my house the second he is gone. Goose bumps rise on my arms in trepidation of what’s to come.

I can feel those angel eyes emerging, coming closer and closer to me. I hurry under my covers, wrapping them around me tightly. I chew on my lip as I feel his presence drawing nearer. He has a powerful presence – warm, strong, unbending, but kind. Unfortunately, I fear I will never be on the receiving end of his kindness.

From thin air, I see him appearing. First his face, then his torso, and finally his legs and arms. When he has fully emerged, he stands erect and walks over to my bed. Without saying a word, he pulls out a bag from his robe, sets it on my bed, and then steps away.

I keep my eyes down, avoiding his face. But as he moves away from my bed, I get a whiff of his scent and, oh my…..

My body feels like it is being transcended into a field full of wild flowers and daises. The smell of earth, flowers and trees are everywhere, lulling my senses into a state of peaceful bliss. I remember this smell….it’s the scent of Heaven. It clings to the angel and I take in another deep breath, this time detecting something more.

Intermixed with Heaven’s scent, there is a certain distinctive smell that I know in my heart sets this angel apart from all others. It’s a spice, a powerful one, yet has the gentleness of a lover’s caress.

It’s mint, I recognize. Mmmmm, mint.

I wonder if all angels smell this good, this inviting. My guard down, I look up at the angel and suck in a breath. He is even more beautiful than I remembered him being. His golden hair is in slight disarray, his blue eyes sparkling with fury. His skin is pale though his cheeks are stained a light pink. He is glowing with light and I have the urge to reach out and touch him. What must a creature of the sky feel like? I wonder.

“Stop your thoughts demon!” the angel booms at me.

My thoughts….? But I’m not even thinking anything!

“Yes. You are,” the angel replies to my mind’s unasked question. “And it is distracting me from my duties.”

The last sentence the angel speaks falters, and there’s an almost human-like quality about his voice. I wonder what I have done to distract such a powerful warrior but I say nothing and do my best to silence my thoughts.

My body feels unbearably warm and I allow my covers to fall from my shoulders. The angel, who has been so intently staring at my face, allows his eyes to trail down the length of my body. I have never been so proud or more afraid of being looked at before.

Immediately the angel snaps his eyes back to my eyes and his normally stoic face scrunches up into a menacing scowl.

“Cover yourself back up, demon!” the angel commands in disgust.

I look down at myself, wondering what is wrong with my attire. I am wearing a skin tight black cocktail dress. There’s nothing special or fancy about it. It’s flattering, but not overly ‘showy.’ I frown and try to find just cause for the angel’s misplaced anger. I can feel my demon roaring her ugly head at the angel’s insult.

Normally I have very good control over my demon. But when it comes to my appearance, my demon is quite the narcissist. She is used to being pampered by men and minions alike. So when an insult is passed our way, my Evil side tends to take over.

I take a few deep breaths but my demon is driving herself into a heated frenzy inside my mind. She is squawking at me, insisting I kill this awful angel. I glare at him, my human side and demon side joining forces in outrage.

“I will NOT cover myself back up, angel,” I snarl at him in return.

My voice has not fully changed over to demon, so there is a double timbre quaking through my vocal folds. The angel’s eyes widen at my response, his face registering complete surprise.

“And my name is not demon, you ass hole. It’s STELLA.”

I can feel my eyes swirling to their demon color and the angel watches in awe as my transformation starts to unfold. I can feel the slits in my back starting to form, waiting to make way for my illustrious dark wings. The angel’s features soften and he points in my direction, closing his eyes and muttering a prayer under his breath.

My demon screams and wails in agony against my temples. The angel is shooting some type of peaceful, Godliness into my body and my demon retreats further and further into the back of my mind. My body flops back onto the bed, twisting and contorting as the two forces fight against one another.

I go still as my human side, my good side, finally wins the battle. Sweat clings to my cocktail dress and to my body, my aching muscles refusing to move. The angel drawers near to my bed, his Heavenly scent engulfing my senses once again.

“I did not realize you had humanly beauty inside you, Dem-…. Stella,” the angel corrects himself. “I was told you were solely demon. Most evil beings, especially ones of your nature, are purely evil. I apologize for my mistake and my injustice to you.”

The angel’s voice is softer now, like the wind whispering an echo behind the whistling leaves. His voice matches his scent now – earthy, manly, peaceful and kind. I wonder if this angel has a name. He must. Even demons have names.

And then my mind starts to wander as I imagine this angel as a human. What must have he been like? Was he like Evan? Or completely different? Does he still remember life on earth? What was his human name?

“Jeremy,” the angel says, cutting off my train of thought. His voice is just a mere whisper, sending shivers down my spine. “That was my human name.”

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