Devil With Blue Eyes

Chapter One: The End and Beginning

Mood Song: Broken Ones by Jacquie Lee

https://play.spotify.com/track/0VYCUWNFIYLIOQqu3bFzs0

How did it come to this?

How did it come to staring at your own reflection in a broken mirror, while your cut hand is fisted into your hair and the other is holding the only lifeline you have to him against your ear?

You feel a terrible and potently hot sensation well up inside your stomach, feel it spread through your body like a concentrated poison. It slowly flows through your veins, licking at your skin as it engulfs you inch by excruciating inch.

There is a pounding initiating in your head, the one that sounds like the beat of a loud bass drum. It is your heart, trying so hard to beat out of your chest, to run to him and fall into his arms, making your ribs feel bruised and broken; as though someone had beaten you with a baseball bat. That pounding gets louder, and louder, so loud you can barely hear his voice coming from the telephone; it's so loud you can't hear yourself speak to him, can't hear the sobs that are wracking your own body as you beg him to stop, to come home to you, and put all of this behind you so you can continue forward into the future he had promised you with that ring on your left hand.

You feel the blood from your broken knuckles begin to wander from the open cuts. It floods into your hair and down your arm, but you disregard it, because you fear that any second he will say goodbye forever, and that that will be the end of it. You fear his hanging up because you know this is the end, you dread it because you love him, and you need him; you need him like the Earth needs the Sun and the fish need the lakes, rivers and oceans.

Your heart cries out in pain as he continues to speak, knowing, that after tonight you will never hear his voice again, he will never tell you he loves you ever again. You feel this tightening in the center of your chest, so tight it becomes hard to breathe. You feel suffocated, as though there is a weight upon your chest, a white-hot searing pain rips across it. The blood in your veins boil, the hand in your hair reaches for your chest in hopes the pain will cease. But that pain, aching and strong refuses to leave your chest; it, like that of the hot flames that licked at your skin, spreads inch by agonizing inch as it eats at your entire your body.

You begin to shake, your body is giving out because you know by the way his voice is flowing, after sharing many a conversation together in the past two years, he is finishing it, he is ending this, ending what you two have or rather, had. He is relinquishing his hold on you. He is letting you go and freeing himself from his faked promises, making it so crystal clear to you how little you truly mean to him.

You call his name like a mantra, "Damien, Damien, Damien, please, no, don't do this."

You can here him struggling to control himself as you call out to him, "Kaprice, please, stop, just stop baby, it doesn't help either of us. I just can't do this anymore, I don't want to hurt you."

Anger begins to cloud your mind, he claims he doesn't care for you in the slightest, yet the pet name continues.

Your newly found anger grabs hold of your self control and shreds it to ribbons, let it fall to floor, resting at your feet as you snap. "Baby?! How can you sit here and call me that when you claim you want nothing to do with me? How can you call me that when you know damned well you don't mean it?"

"I'm sorry, " he clears his throat, giving a long pause. "It's something from habit."

Silence. Silence reigns between the two of you as your anger grows, taking complete control, you head to your bedroom and pace around the room. The silence continues for an extended amount of time before the sound of a door closing breaks the silence through your apartment. The sounds of footsteps start and stop within seconds, the rattling of keys settling on the dining room table comes next and then silence ensues once again as a bedroom door is shut.

Damien breaks you of your focus on the sounds outside of your bedroom, and that thundering heart beat starts again, this time due to anxiety, because you know, this really is the end of it, the end of your world as you know it, the world that you lived in this morning but now, at 9:26 PM is now gone.

"I will be there in three days Kaprice. I'm going to get my stuff and bring you everything you have here. And that is when we can talk about this, but I am tired and tired of this." He pauses, and shuffling can be heard from the other end of the phone." Goodbye Kaprice, I never wanted to hurt you. I really did care for you, I just didn't care enough. I'm sorry."

With a beep, signaling the end of the call, and the end of it all, you collapse. Your legs give way to the weight of your body and your sadness. Those sobs you've been holding make your body shake as they finally rip from your chest in a truly unruly fashion. Your tears return, big and fat, as they cascade from your eyes falling to the floor you now lay on, too exhausted and unable to pull yourself up. You try to scream his name, but it only comes out as a strangled cry. Your hair sticks to your wet face, blood is still flowing from your wounded hand.

You soon hear hurried footsteps echoing off the walls and feel the vibrations in the floor as your roommate Axel comes toward your room, he see's the bathroom mirror and rushes forward, pushing open your bedroom door to see you curled on the floor, blood on the carpet and your body shaking heavily. He rushes to your side, grasping your shoulders he looks at your face, your tear stained and blood stricken face. A look of terror crosses his face before you muster what little energy you still have from the sobbing, and fling your arms around his shoulders, burying your head in his neck, his unruly blonde hair brushing your cheeks as you cry.

You feel his arms wrap around you, holding you as you continue to cry and sob. His hands rub up and down your spine, trying so hard to soothe you as best he can in your current state. The fear is still there in his eyes as you continue to say things that make no sense.

"Honey," he breathes into your hair, his british accent thick and deep with emotion. "You need to tell me whats going on when you are able to. You're terrifying me at the moment."

You nod, truly unable to speak. And he continues to hold you for a bit of time more, before his arms disappear from your back and your head moves to his shoulder. You hold tighter, thinking the will leave you here alone on the floor to sit in your own sorrow.

"Easy, baby girl," he chuckles lowly. "I'm not going anywhere, just relax, I've got you."

With that said, he moves one arm to curl around your back and the other under your knees and lifts you as though you weighed nothing but a feather, and began to carry you towards your bed, but you protest at being sat on the bed.

"No!" You cry out. "Not there, I can't. Please don't!"

He retightens his grip upon you and mutters his acceptance, and carries you out of the room, past your bathroom with bloodied and broken pieces of the wall mirror scattered on the floor and blood upon the sink and wall. He continued at a leisurely pace, through your shared living room and dining area heading to his room. Axel pushed open the door to said bedroom with his foot, considering this very occupied hands, and brought you to his bed and layer you there upon the soft duvet.

Your tears lessened as you snuggled into the soft fabric and took in the scent of Axel, breathing deeply, the scents of mahogany and teakwood infiltrated your senses, leaving you feel calmed and at home in Axels bed, with him sitting next to you and stroking your hair.

"Kaprice, love, what brought this on?" Axel inquired in his motherly concerned tone. "Is this just another severe panic attack? Or is this more?"

You look up at the man next to you, his bright brown eyes shown with worry, his beautiful blonde hair, usually tied back, was now strewn about in a way that made it look as though he had run a marathon without having a pony tail holder. His normally glowing skin was pale in color and sweat shone in the low light of the room.

"Damien."

It was the only thing you could say. There was nothing else you could say. You feel your chest tighten as Axel looks at you with somber eyes. Your lips begin to quiver once again, and with the feeling of a broken heart you bury your face into the duvet. The tears that escape tear through you with a vengeance only the Gods of Greece could envy. But Axel said nothing, he continued to run his fingers through your hair and let you cry yourself into a much needed sleep.

As your brain began to shut down one thought reined in you mind: how did it come to this?