Your Soul: Where Light Goes, Darkness Follows

Your Soul ~ IX

When I saw Karma beginning to fall, I tried to reach out for him, but I failed...tripping over my own two feet just as I was about to grab onto his hand.

That was the scariest moment of my life, seeing someone attempt to die before my eyes was frightening, heart breaking actually. Especially because I care about this particular someone.

"Oh Nagisa..." He stood on two legs, pressing his front left paw against my cheek. "I'm a demon, I can't die unless I'm killed by a hunter, or the devil himself."

     "Well I didn't know that at the moment!"

He poofed back into his human(?) form, his legs on either side of my body, his hand still on my cheek. "Well, you know now. So don't worry about me next time, okay?"

Yeah right, easier said than done. I forget he's a demon most of the time....

He pulled the comic from my hands, making me whine and attempt to retrieve it, but his available hand took ahold of my wrist just as my fingertips brushed against it. My lips formed a pout as I looked him in the eye.

     "You're mean."

"Of course I am."

Next thing I know, I'm laying on my back, the demon's legs straddling me as he leaned his body over mine, his head resting on my chest. He's being clingy again. This has been happening lately, but when we're alone, he'd get clingy, and what I mean by that is that he'd want to be closer to me, like really close. As in, body against body close.

And I honestly don't mind, I like it actually. It gives me this strange feeling in my stomach, it's quite addictive.

"Nagisa." He murmured over the skin of my collarbone, dragging his nose over the line. "Your scent is sweet."

     "Um, I took a shower, so that's probably it." Yes, I bathe with scented body wash. Mother buys me the sweet ones, not that I'm complaining, I actually like them.

"Vanilla."

'Mother has never bought me that one...'

     "Vanilla?" I repeated in a questioning tone.

My faced warmed when his lips pressed against my collarbone, then pulling away with a hum. "Definitely." His thumb dragged over the veins on my wrists, his other hand already removing my hair bands.

     "Don't take off the elastics...I already told you that I don't like my hair down."

"But I like your hair." He mumbled out. "It's soft. Really soft."

The temperature of my face worsened when I felt that the elastics were removed. It's shameful for me to have my hair down. A whine originated from my throat when his fingers caressed through my hair, I'm not used to this.

"What's wrong?" His voice low. "Are you hurt? Do I need to heal you with my flames?"

     "Oh, n-no...it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

His fingers massaged my scalp, and I sighed in delight, closing my eyes as I started to speak. "I'm just not used to people touching me like you do. It's new to me..."