Two

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For a moment or two, I was completely dumbfounded, standing in my living room and staring at the man, who comfortable laid on my sofa as if he was actually at home.

His hair and clothes black, his features dangerously familiar. I slowly paced towards my kitchen counter to pull a knife out, while I kept my eyes on the stranger.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.

"In this case, the better question is, what am I, dear. " he corrected me smoothly. His voice was deep, humming and comforting. It was like listening to music, yet his words didn't hold any particular melody to them. I cautiously pulled out one of the knives and scanned him up and down, to see if he was armed anyhow.

Also, I know there was a lot of reasons for me to be more annoyed or scared, but the truth is, whenever someone calls me darling, dear or stuff that you would either tell to your lover or to a child, I just get so pissed of every time. The guy had a sense of ultimate superiority about him, and it made my skin crawl. 

"A serial killer?" I guessed, and he chuckled and sat up. 

"Wrong; I'm help... Something you are in desperate need of." I could almost hear my mind clicking with each turn, as I was trying to find out, where have I seen him before, when it all fell into place.

"You killed Adam, haven't you?"

"No, actually, the one who killed that boring little mortal, is you." he threw himself back onto the sofa, putting his long legs up and letting them hang from the end of the furniture.

"Don't be ridiculous!" I don't know why did I feel like rolling my eyes was acceptable in the current situation, but I did. Still holding the knife I slowly walked up to him, glaring at his perfectly calm face.

"Demons have no power over the mortal world unless they serve their target's desires. I watched you get beaten up a few times before, and you saw me too... But you didn't wish for anything. You were... angry. Irritated... passed out. But this time, you were ready. You wanted him gone, and that was a gift from me" as he looked up into my eyes, I felt captured by those velvet orbs, in a violent manner. I couldn't look away even when I wanted to. 

"First of all, you are crazy." I stopped here, not really seeing further explanations of how he killed someone only by touching them, but regardless, I went on "And second of all I didn't want him to die." he was quite amused with my remarks, closing his eyes as if he got relaxed just by listening to my internal panic.

"I'm sure you feel... that you need help" he purred, not opening his eyes, yet his words somehow got to me.

"Like I care about a few hits enough, to want help from someone like you... I don't even know you" a peal of somewhat cynical laughter escaped my mouth.

"You don't know yourself either, do you" he interrupted me with a deep, pleasant giggle "You need help because you are repressing your calling... Yourself, if you will... Probably because you are ashamed of it..." he disappeared from the couch, and suddenly, I felt him right behind me. He dragged one of his hands through my chest, sending a pleasant shiver down my spine.  I turned and slashed towards him with the knife, but he caught my wrist.

"Don't touch me" I hissed like an angry cat, but I couldn't wipe his smirk off of his face. He held my hand in the air easily, stepping closer to me again. 

"If you wouldn't want me to, my hand would go through you... I was actually surprised you wanted it so soon... mortals are usually terrified at first... but you, aren't you a little special sort of odd?" he caressed my jawline with his index finger and a smug look on his face. I turned my head away a little bit, showing that I wasn't very fond of his... touchy behaviour. It made me feel weird and uncomfortable, and... like an itch I couldn't scratch. 

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