Abby's POV
Abby stood before Him, awaiting His commands.
She had long lost her own stream of consciousness and the only voice that ran through her head anymore was His.
He was staring straight forward, His face void of any emotion. "Did you say everything you were supposed to?" He asked.
She nodded slowly.
"Did she see his sign?"
Again, a nod.
"I didn't want to have to take such drastic measures," He said, mostly to Himself. "But I can't have Caulfield in my way."
His eyes moved to Abby's slowly and all she could do was stare into them blankly.
"Find him," His voice echoed in her mind. "Follow him home. He has something I need you to find: the knife he carries with the symbol engraved on it. When you do, come back here, walk to the kitchen, and stab that knife into your heart."
He stared at Abby, waiting for her to respond.
"Okay," she told him effortlessly.
Ashlynn's POV
It was nine when I finally left my room again. I would have stayed in there all night if possible—I was too unsettled to face Abby again. If I saw her, I knew I'd have to find a way to talk about how she's been acting lately, and I felt too tired for confrontation. But then six hours of not eating caught up with me and I was forced to leave me room.
As soon as I entered the kitchen, I spotted Devon outside talking to Abby.
A millisecond after my eyes landed on him, he looked directly at me, as if he felt my gaze on his face. My breathing automatically hitched.
Abby responded to something he said and then walked off the porch and into my backyard, leaving Devon standing alone, staring at me with an emotion in his eyes I couldn't understand.
With that look, I lost all sense. The fact that Abby just went more than slightly insane in my room earlier no longer mattered, nor did the fact that she just walked off into the night with a peculiar, determined stride. He was the only thing I could think about. He and all of his frightening perfection.
Something about his look that moment was different. Different from all the times I remembered him looking at me. It was... passionate.
I smiled warmly, confidence building in me and walked to him. I opened the porch door and motioned for him to come in. "It's cold out here. Come inside, I'll make you dinner."
He looked at me for a moment, examining my face. The silence was not awkward. If anything, it made me more confident. "I make good pasta," I assured him.
Slowly, he nodded. He stepped towards me, but didn't cross through the threshold of my house. "I'm not craving food at the moment," he told me, moving closer.
A strange feeling shot through me at his words, so quick it was nearly painful. "What are you craving?" My voice became significantly softer. I didn't even realize what I had asked until after it slipped from my mouth.
His eyes held no uncertainty. His lips curved into a slow, seductive smile. "Your company," he answered simply.
He stepped away from me and into the house. The cool air from outside hit me, feeling unpleasantly different from his warmth. I regained what little composure I could before closing the door and following him inside. He stood by the kitchen stove, leaning against it, keeping his eyes trained on my every movement. I glanced at the pull-out drawer under the stove that held all our pots and pans. He was practically barricading it.
"Excuse me," I said, motioning to the drawer.
He made no move, just continued looking at me.
After few seconds of battling with my conscience, I knelt down to the drawer and reached for it, having to push his leg with my arm in the process. I pulled it out as much as I could and spotted the pan I needed to use in the middle of the drawer. I scanned his position and realized I would have to reach in between his legs to grab it.
I looked up at him to see him staring down at me with intense, hooded eyes. Slowly, his hand brushed my hair away from my face, and then took it into his fist. I realized I was inching closer towards him, and I tried to move back, but his gentle grip on my hair allowed little movement.
I was suddenly afraid. This confident, somewhat sleazy girl I was acting like wasn't me. Since when did I invite Devon in to eat with me? I was always too afraid he'd reject me. But with that look he was giving me... I was beginning to doubt he still thought of me as Abby's little sister. As exciting as the thought was, it was even more terrifying. Devon was a man, not a teenage boy with a crush.
"Devon, I have to get that pot," I said, grimacing when I heard the huskiness in my tone.
Hesitantly, he released my hair and took a step to the side. I grabbed onto the pot with unsteady hands and pulled it out of the drawer quickly. While filling it with water, I noticed the quietness settling over us had become awkward.
I cleared my throat, interrupting the silence.
"Do you know if there's anything wrong with Abby today?" I asked conversationally. "She's been acting-."
"Let's not talk about your sister." His voice was so commanding, there was no room for debate.
My hands began shaking and I suddenly felt very cold. It was like every inch of me wanted to either run from him or pull him towards me, but I couldn't convince myself to do either. "Wh-what should we talk about?"
I felt him behind me. Heat radiated from his skin, slowly warming me. "We don't have to talk," he whispered. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms, legs, and down my back. My body pulsated with the timbre of his voice. "Sometimes it's easier to communicate what you want and feel through physical means."
His hand brushed the length of my arm.
"You're cold." It was a statement, not an observation.
I nodded anyway. "I s-should grab a sweater." I tried to move away, but he pressed his chest against my back, trapping me between his body and the sink.
"I can make it hotter." His lips moved against my ear lobe, his hot breath caressing the skin on my neck.
I shivered violently.
His hands curled around my arms, and he breathed me in, his nose skimming down my neck.
I couldn't stop the small moan that escaped my lips. He didn't laugh at me like I thought he may have. Instead, his chest rumbled in response, as if he was pleased by my reaction.
"Think about how you feel right now, Ashlynn," he purred against my skin. I suppressed another moan. "Don't try to hide it. I can smell it on you, princess. You have no idea how appetizing it tastes, that lust you're releasing." He pressed his tongue against my neck and groaned in pleasure. His hands lingered down my arms and moved to my hips, pulling them back against him. I gasped when I felt unexpected hardness.
"I..."
"Imagine how I could make you feel, Ashlynn. What I could do to you." He rocked my hips back against him again. "Are you thinking about it now? Picturing yourself against me?" His voice grew even deeper. "What do you think it will feel like to have me inside you?"
The heat in my body was almost too much to bare, my muscles slacked. My head fell back against his shoulder and my eyelids grew heavy.
"No. Look at me," he commanded.
I obeyed quickly. "It takes two words from you, Ashlynn. Two words and then ecstasy." His gripped tightened. "Two words and then forever."
I stared at him, feeling the sudden seriousness of the situation.
"You can stop everything now. It doesn't have to be this way."
"What way?" I asked slowly.
"Tell me that you're mine."
I didn't respond, for some reason, I couldn't. There was something strange about this. I was actually becoming frightened. "Devon..."
"Say it, Ashlynn."
I should have.
God, I should have.
"I can't."
He stared at me, waiting for more from me, but I stayed quiet.
His eyes glazed over, becoming cruel. Then, something changed within them and they softened. He pressed his lips against my temple gently, lingering there for a moment. "You will." Hesitantly, he stepped away from me and I had to brace myself on the kitchen counter to avoid collapsing. I watched him carefully as he walked towards the porch.
He paused by the door and glanced back at me from over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Ashlynn," he whispered. "But I can't let that be your final response."
With that, he left me alone in the kitchen, my breathing ragged and my arms braced on the counter to avoid collapsing.
So, Devon's a little evil. But that's not all he's got going for him ;) Thanks to everyone who comments, votes, etc.! Hope you enjoyed this one :)