I continued to shake my head, the hue of my face becoming reminiscent of a tomato.
He grinned, nipping his nose with mine while continuing to tease my lips with his. He teasingly closed the proximity between our lips—never fully bridging the gap. He never kissed me, but he made sure his mouth was so close to mine that even his hot breath was capable of doing the kissing for him. He was teasing me, and I was going bonkers for it.
“I know you want me, Gracie,” he reiterated, his sultry drawl convincing me that I should succumb to this desire.
I said nothing, but I couldn't deny it. There was no question about it. I really did want him.
Taking advantage of my silence, he took it as an invitation to remove his hands from my hips. He shifted his hands’ attention to my waist and drew me against his body. Tilting his head down, he appreciatively nuzzled his lips to the side of my neck. While prodding my neck with his lips, he brought my arms around his neck.
It was that magnetic pull again. I knew I had to get to the bottom of what happened downstairs, I knew I had to stop him from making a hypnotic bimbo out of me, and I knew I had to get rid of him. I knew everything, but my body refused to listen to my logicality. I was too delirious with desire for him. I really wanted him. I wanted to strip down for him. I wanted to see him in all his naked glory. I wanted to have sex with him and—what the hell was I babbling about?
Finally realizing what was going on, my hands found his chest. I instantly pushed away from him and retreated.
“What do you think you're doing?” I asked stupidly, jarring myself out of the sexual stupor I was in.
It was such a stupid question because it was quite obvious what he was doing. It was also quite obvious what I was getting ready to do with him. Suddenly, I was no longer sure if this was a dream or a completely screwed up reality. If this was a dream, then it was the most realistic dream I have ever had.
He sighed tiredly at my reaction.
“Gracie, don't be like this,” he urged soothingly, extending his hand out to me. Desire teemed in his eyes. He still wanted me—badly. “Just let me take care of you. I swear it'll be the most extravagant and phenomenal thing you'll ever experience.”
On cue, my body reignited with desire for him. Yet, when I found myself reaching for his hand, I immediately bit my lower lip to remind myself of the situation I was in.
I couldn't help but stare at him accusingly.
Something fishy was definitely going on . . .
“Did you put a spell on me or something?”
It was truly an offhanded question. Regardless when I caught the hint of a guilty smile in his eyes, I was surprised to find that I was actually on the right track.
I gaped at him in horror.
Oh dear Lord, what did this guy do to me?
“What did you do to me?” I managed to splutter out. I pointed an accusing finger at him. My vision gradually became clearer from the haziness. “Why am I acting like this? I would never in my right mind want to sleep with a guy who is holding me hostage in my own home—no matter how gorgeous he is! I’m normally a prude for Christ’s sake. I’ve never even kissed someone before!”
He feigned a look of innocence. His smile maintained its nervous curve.
“Well,” he began unsteadily. His uncomfortable facial expression told me he didn't want to share this information with me. He didn’t want to share it, but when daggers found my eyes and were shot into his, he gave in. “I suppose being the Demon of Lust probably aided in making you a bit hornier for me than you'd normally be if I was just some regular guy off the street.”
He said it all in one breath, as if hoping I wouldn't catch any of it.
But I caught it, all of it.
Despite all that I had seen thus far, I couldn't help but scoff in disbelief. Not because I didn't believe him, but because I was too scared to.
Yet again, a confusing bout of contemplation took over my senses. I was seriously convinced I was going crazy. If anything, it would have made me feel better if I were crazy.
When silence threatened to cascade upon us, I parted my shaking lips, afraid to ask the one question I somehow knew would haunt me forever.
“Who are you?” I asked, my eyes pleading for him to finally answer me.
Succumbing to the genuine mystification in my inquiring gaze, chain-smoking guy’s expression grew gentle and serious.
At long last, he finally decided it was due time to enlighten me on his true identity.
“My name is Eclipse,” he began proudly, his mesmerizing eyes never leaving mine. “I'm one of the Devil's seven Demonic sons, and I'm here to help you fulfill your destiny by turning you into a Demon.”
Have you ever had one of those moments where you were so shocked with new information that you completely blacked out?
No?
Well, good for you.
Unfortunately, my body was not made for that type of shock. I don’t know about you, but when I’m face-to-face with a Demon who just casually told me that his sole purpose for being here was to turn me into a Demon, I did the only thing I could do to properly deal with the newfound development.
I blacked out.
“What you seek, you will never have.”
0 3: A Life of Sin
It was the feeling of warm sunrays spilling over my face that stirred me from my sleep.
Stretching lazily underneath the solace of my white faux fur comforter, I woke up with a pounding headache that mirrored the likes of jackhammers infiltrating the core of my mind. All I could feel was throbbing, throbbing, and more throbbing. In other words, I woke up feeling like shit and I imagined I looked like shit as well.
I hate hangovers.
I continued to lie in bed and groaned miserably. I massaged my temples in circular motions in hopes of alleviating the migraine. Waking up had never felt more troublesome and attempting to open my exhausted eyes (and endeavoring to keep them opened) felt impossible. It did not help that the glaring sun was bearing down on me, urging me to squint my eyes as if persuading me to go back to sleep.
Ugh, so hard to wake up.
With much effort, I turned to my side and spared a glance at my electronic alarm clock. Though the red LED backlight was difficult to read under the direct sunlight, I could make out enough of the numbers. 10:06 a.m. Relieved that it was a Sunday morning and that my volunteer work at the women’s shelter didn’t start until one in the afternoon, I was ready to snooze for another thirty minutes. The instant I closed my eyes, the abrupt contents of the night prior came rushing into my mind.
Demon?
Demon of Lust?
Eclipse?!
Fear skated through my quivering body. My eyes enlarged into the size of golf balls when I was reminded of the chilling event that occurred last night.
Crap!
Still dressed in my black party dress, I propelled my body into a sitting position. I allowed my terrified eyes to survey my bedroom. My gaze ran over the white office table area that had my finance and investment books stacked neatly on the table. My focus then swam across to the area around my floor-to-ceiling windows that had the view of Seoul’s skyscrapers in all of its glory. Finally, my eyes rested on the immaculate red carpet on the ground.
Everything looked the same.
Everything looked normal.
There were no signs of disturbances that would indicate that there was another living being in my room. If that “Demon” actually existed, then he must still be in my apartment, right? If he wasn’t, did this mean it was all just a dream?
Determined to ensure that I had arrived at the right conclusion, I hopped off the bed and nearly toppled over. I hadn’t realized that I was still wearing my black heels. Once I steadied my equilibrium, I dropped down onto the floor and ducked my head underneath the bed to conduct my investigation.
I found nothing underneath the bed that resembled a drop-dead gorgeous Demon. My vigilant eyes swerved to another plausible hiding area. Like a jackrabbit
, I leapt up and ran to my massive walk-in closet. Pulling the double gold-trimmed glass doors open, I ran after the spillage of morning light that brightened the once dark closet. Once inside, I stopped in my tracks and evaluated the quiet space. All that stared back at me were my vast array of clothes, shoes, and handbags.
Nope.
No Demon here.
A twitch of a smile tugged at my lips with this good news. However, since I wasn’t done with my investigation, I forced myself to hold back that relieved smile. I had to perform one final assessment.
I ran out of my bedroom and burst into the hall where all that greeted me was my living room in all of its morning glory. The sun’s morning rays kissed every inch of my spacious living room with love, giving the space a glow of innocence that couldn’t be matched by any other room. The most important aspect of this room? It was void of any other living entity but me. There was absolutely no tall, dark, and handsome Demon standing here, telling me he was here to turn me into a Demon.
Could it be?
“Oh my flying pigs,” I finally breathed out, placing a hand over my trembling and now relieved heart. I stared up at the ceiling with gratefulness washing over me. “Oh, thank you. It was all just a dream. Thank you, thank you so much.”
I raked my fingers through the curls of my long black hair. Quiet laughter poured out of me. The craziness of my own imagination floored me. This was the last time I was going to drink so much. I had always assumed that I could handle my liquor, but it was all too obvious that I had finally met my limitation concerning the “holy potion.”
Surely, hallucinating and envisioning a gorgeous guy claiming to be a Demon (and a Demon of Lust of all things!) constitutes me as not being able to handle my alcohol. Despite the fact that this brought me down a notch in the “coolness” ladder (as I was a bookworm to begin with and being able to handle large consumptions of alcohol was my only claim to fame), I had never felt more relieved. If you were strongly considering admitting yourself back into the mental institution because you thought you were crazy, you would be relieved too!
I couldn’t stop smiling as I breathed in joy.
The non-existence of Eclipse made me a very happy and sane girl.
With conviction that I was indeed not crazy (just a slightly disturbed and horny drunk with a wild imagination), I immaturely pumped my fists into the air with victory.
I couldn’t be more excited to begin my wonderfully sane, casual, and ordinary day.
If only I knew . . .
●●●
Sanctuary Shelter.
It was originally an inheritance estate bestowed to a pastor’s wife after the death of her wealthy parents. The estate was reconstructed and turned into a shelter in hopes of providing aid, moral support, and a sense of familial support for those in need. Located about an hour and a half out of the city, the shelter was a three-story estate that had ten bedrooms, two living rooms, and several large recreational areas.
The one thing Sanctuary focused on? Helping women who were victims of domestic violence. Sanctuary provided educational classes that gave the residents crucial job hunting skills and provided motivational seminars and support groups to help these women get back on their feet. It was a shelter that did wonderful things, and it was a shelter that I volunteered my time at every Sunday.
My primary duty? Help babysit and keep the young children entertained while their mothers were in various workshops throughout the day. In essence, it was the one period out of the week where I abandoned my typical routine as a college student and surrounded myself with the type of people I wanted to be with—the ones who could help get my week started on a positive note.
“Grace! Hi Grace!” A small and very cheery voice greeted me from the estate once I stepped out of the cab.
Struggling to carry several big shopping bags in each of my hands, I told the cab driver that I would be right back and closed the door with a little push of my hip. A smile bloomed across my lips when I turned towards the direction of the cheery voice.
I happily waved at seven-year-old Sony Lee, who had just leapt off the porch of the estate and was running towards me at full speed.
The morning sun was gone, completely lost behind the vast sea of gray clouds that had penetrated the sky with its murkiness. The sun was gone, but Sony more than made up for its absence with his bright yellow shirt and spiffy little khaki pants. The jubilant child illuminated under the darkness of the overcast sky. He truly resembled nothing short of a little ball of sunshine.
“Hi Sony!” I greeted back, unable to resist his contagious excitement.
“Grace, what are you holding?” he inquired once he reached me. His voice was infused with eagerness. His big, curious brown eyes peered up at me and the bags in my possession.
I smiled and tilted my head at him coyly. Even though I was excited to tell him because I knew he was going to adore my answer, I did my best to keep my voice aloof. It was more fun to keep him in anticipation.
“Oh, you know . . . stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“You know,” I trailed again, my smile growing wider, “Halloween decorations. Halloween snacks. And new movies.”
His eyes lit up like a soccer stadium. “Really?”
I nodded, inclining my head at the shelter. I began to make my way towards the estate. “Yeah, I just stopped by to drop these off—”
“Here! Let me help!” Sony interjected, relieving two bags from each of my hands.
I made sure he was holding the lightest bags before I went on. “And I’m going to head to the store to buy some pumpkins for everyone to carve. Do you want to come and help me pick out the good ones?”
If it was even possible, Sony’s eyes lit up even more with excitement.
“Yeah!” he confirmed as we bounced up the steps and headed into the shelter. In one of the recreational rooms, I could see some volunteers administering mock interviews with some of the mothers, some tutoring the teenagers, and several other volunteers prepping for a seminar that was about to take place. “Yeah, I wanna come!”
I smiled approvingly. I truly enjoyed Sony’s company and I looked forward to having him accompany me to do some pumpkin shopping. I figured if there were anyone who would enjoy picking out pumpkins, it would be Sony.
Before I got ahead of myself, I made sure to confirm that he was settled with any other commitments he might have had for the day.
“Have you finished all your chores and everything else?”
His head bounced up and down like a bobbing figurine. His small and eager footsteps matched mine. “I finished everything this morning, just in case you had to do shopping!”
I laughed, ruffling his hair. On the way upstairs, we waved at a couple of volunteers and climbed up to the second level where I usually watched the kids.
“Great!” I said after we stepped into the living room and deposited our bags onto a glass coffee table. “Now go grab a warm jacket. The weather’s crazy nowadays. It was sunny earlier, but I have a feeling that it might rain later.”
Sony gave a fervent nod of agreement and ran back to his room. As soon as he disappeared into the hall, five cute little rugrats came running into the room to take his place. They must have heard my voice across the hall.
“Grace!” the little voices screamed out in unison. “Hi Grace!”
Standing before me, eyes wide with innocence, were the five other kids I’ve come to adore: Kimmi, Lulu, Anni, Woo, and Timmi. All ranged from the ages of six to nine—Lulu and Anni being six and twins, Kimmi being seven, and Woo and Timmi being eight and nine respectively. It always amazed me to see how bubbly and happy these children were. Considering the circumstances of how they came here, it was an incredible thing.
They all had fathers who abused their mothers and all had mothers who had no choice but to pack up everything, take their kids, and escape to an unfamiliar place to seek shelter. I felt so terrible for them and was only too eager to be around them. The least I could d
o was offer them a bit of fun on Sundays to help ease their minds away from the reality of their lives—if only for a brief moment.
“Hey guys,” I greeted with a big smile, crouching down on the floor. They surrounded me like bees to honey when I was eye-level with them. “What’s up?”
“Grace!” Timmi prompted. His eyes were already darting to the bags behind me. “What’s in there?!”
I laughed. Just like Sony’s reaction, I knew they were going to love my answer.
“Halloween decorations,” I began to list off with a playful sigh.
The children gasped excitedly.
“Halloween snacks.”
They gasped again.
“And new movies!”
“Yay!” they cheered, clapping as their high-pitched chipmunk voices rose into the air.
I couldn’t help but laugh again. I playfully ruffled their hairs and feigned a look of suspicion. “But you guys already finished all your chores, right? And if you have homework, you’ve finished it all too?”
They nodded eagerly.
“Yes!” Kimmi screamed out proudly. Her small eyes twinkled with excitement. “We always finish everything early when we know you’re coming, Grace!”
Just as she said this, Sony came running out of the hall with a small maroon hoodie on.
“I’m ready, Grace!” he announced, exhilaration coloring his face.
“Okay then,” I answered, standing up.
I looked down at the kids before me in amusement. They took my standing up as a trigger to suddenly stand in a straight, single-file order line. It was as if they were waiting for me—the general—to give them their commands for the afternoon.
Holding back a grin at the cuteness that radiated from these kids, I humored them. In a strict voice, I started giving out my commands.
“You guys start unwrapping the decorations, start putting the snacks on the coffee table, start decorating in all the areas that you can, and start choosing what movie you want to watch for movie night later on. In the meantime, Sony and I are going to go buy pumpkins so we can carve them today. Okay?”