The Devil Likes Lemon Cupcakes

The Devil Has A New Screen-Saver

                                           »I will touch her gently

                                With the back of my bruised hands,

                                    For these fingertips have yet to

                                               Earn the softness.«

                                            Tyler Knott Gregson

The sadness of music sifted through me like grains of sand; every note fell into the cracks of my bones and wedged its pieces, becoming parts of me.

The melancholy tasted bitter-sweet on my skin; every piano key carried the flavor of his chapped fingertips.

The exquisiteness of the soul harmony softened my armored heart; it stripped it bare, delicate, exposed to Apollo who wished not only to be a warrior with a bow, but also to pierce hearts with a song.

All my mind was able to recall as I came to, was a storm-like feeling, and the opening of the door that could not be opened. But maybe not opening, more like a...loud noise of twisting of the metal. And then the warmth. The warmth of being placed into someone's embrace. And then...

And then the almost unbearable heat flooded the air around me, no, around us, resulting in screams of horror and pain.

As I slowly opened my eyes, I covered them with my hand to shield them from the light, but the dusky place was only illuminated by the flickering flames of candles. The first thing I noticed in the cavernous room was a large bed that I was placed in, its dark-wood frame with majestic columnar foot posts, and a coating of the softest fabric I ever felt on my skin. Shadows of the flames danced on the polished hardwood floor, revealing the 18th century decor.

Behind a fence of wooden pillars stood filled bookshelves and an ancient black piano.

And there he was; the luminous creature, the Musician of broken hearts, the Dragon who fell. Lucifer.

The heavy curtains reflected his shadowy image, an image of a plain boy in a cheap t-shirt and a pair of worn out jeans, but the music he created made him so much more. I noticed his serene gaze as he followed the movement of fingers on the black and ivory keys, the tranquil expression on his face. That music not only showed me his grace, but also his strength, his something that made us human.

His music was what set all those butterflies inside my stomach on fire.

I couldn't deny it anymore.

Falling for him was like falling off a cliff. It was like that urge you get when you stand on a very high place and you're tempted to jump. You are aware that you're going to die, but you feel that sensation, that demonic feeling in your chest. But it's not a death wish, no, it's a wish for life. You see no chance for survival, yet...some of us just decide to fall.

And maybe someone will catch us.

I slid my legs off the covers, onto the floor. My bare feet created an echoing sound, but he never diverted his gaze away from the piano. I walked towards him, afraid of the love affair he had with music.

I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the windows. My skin was completely pale, not a faint of rosiness in my cheeks. I saw my hazel eyes, which now consumed the twilight around me and turned a few shades darker. My hair was messy, tangled in unknown patterns.