Ouija (COMPLETED)(South Park) {DamienxPip}

Chapter 5| Clothing Store

We successfully exit the school without anyone asking any questions. When we leave the area everyone we walked past froze. Mid-sentence, mid-action, mid-whatever they were doing at the time they froze. It was weird at first, then it became quite interesting. I had asked him more questions about it, but he just told me that he didn't know how it worked and that he just did it.

Then, we set off walking. The destination unknown, and Damien talking. He's been explaining what his meeting with Medusa was like, and, thankfully, doesn't exactly want my input. I just have to say 'wow' and awe a few times and he believes I'm listening. Even when I accidentally awed at the time when one of Medusa's snakes tried to strangle him, he believed I was listening intently.

I know it is extremely unpleasant and rude to ignore someone when they are talking, but I can't help it. My own thoughts are swimming. I can't stop thinking about what happened. I reach my hand up and touch the place on my neck Damien kissed. His lips, unlike everything else, were surprisingly hot against my neck. They only lingered for a few seconds, but as he did press his lips against my neck, the heat of said lips increased. It was as if he kept them there any longer, they would burn my skin. It's strange, how his touch, his hold and his breath is so icy, yet his lips are hot enough to leave a mark.

"Thankfully, I dodged out of the way before her eyes actually met mine. She did however, compliment me on my quick reflexes and I quote 'stunning physique'." Damien brags, turning around and smirking at me.  While hm turned around, he somehow is able to float backwards.

"How interesting." My mind buzzes with questions about him. I want to ask so badly why his lips could've burnt me, why he is so cold but I feel like it would lead to something very awkward. So, I ask something else. "Where are we exactly going Damien?"

"Well, I'm not sure where it's located, but I've always wanted to go to a mall. A human mall. The one in Hell is very strange," Damien tells me, still facing my way. "In a human mall, do demons pose nude against cars to get you to want to buy them?"

My eyes widen at his words, and for some strange reason, another question runs through my head, I shake my head trying to clear my thoughts. "Certainly not!" I exclaim, and Damien hums.

"Well, can we go?" He asks, his eyes full of hope.

"I don't see why not. It's not like there is a lot to do here." Damien smiles, and we pick up our pace and walk to the mall (and by 'walk' I mean Damien floats and I walk).

When we reach the begging of the mall parking lot, Damien turns to me and speaks.

"Do you think we can go into the clothing stores?" He asks and he hovers in the air, waiting patiently for my answer.

"If you want, we can." I smile at him, and Damien flies forward in a rush of excitement. I sigh, and try to catch up with him. He's so quick, that I have to pick up my pace to walk alongside him, he seems to be very excited about the mall.

I really don't see the appeal, but I don't want to darken Damien's mood so I keep quiet. As he starts to talk to me about his last experience in a mall, I smile and nod, trying to make sure he enjoys today.

****

I had to run to catch up with him. He kept speeding up, kept floating ahead. It must have looked very strange, a teenage boy just running into a clothing store all alone, but it's not like there are any people my age in the mall at the moment. Adults and younger children can judge all they want, it is not like they can do or say anything to me.

Damien's excitement seems like it would be magnetic. Meaning that he's so adorably excited that it would be able to radiate and stick to me, making me happy. Yet, it hasn't. Worry is the emotion I'm currently feeling, and it doesn't get any better as we enter the clothing store. Damien starts to look through all of the things on racks. He pulls out lots of random clothes, and ones he doesn't like the look off he just drops on the floor. He's making a real mess. It's quite frustrating. Not the mess he is making, someone has a job to clean it up, but the fact that I can't pick up on his excitement and match it because of my overwhelming sense of worry.