The Angel and Her Demon

Chapter 3 - A Dare Goes Wrong

Sky's Perspective

Red. Long red, cherry hair...

Exactly like in my dream, sitting next to me.

I forget how to breathe for a second. My eyes stay locked onto the scarlet locks, the same shade that matches my drawings but it matches the memories of last night so much better. The rest of the world fades away. Somehow, I manage to tear my eyes away from the hair ― god, I remember that brilliant, blood-red hair being sprawled on the floor as I made her moan ― and instead turn my attention down to the leather jacket around the figure's body. Such a tight fit, the leather clings to the arms but especially the torso and chest, perfectly accentuating each curve. Black fingerless gloves grab a pen from off of the desk, rotating it in their hold for a moment before the index finger slides up and down the pen almost tauntingly. The thumb presses down a bit on the top of the pen, on the verge of clicking it, and I can't help but wonder what other things those hands could do. What else could that thumb press? The silver rings that decorate each finger shine from the sunlight through the window. Each ring tells a story; one has a chain running through the middle, the other is a skull, and the last one is just a plain strip with a Cross of Saint Peter, but they all seem to fit perfectly together. They all match the demoness.

I let my eyes roam up to the cherry hair again. Beautiful, fiery, perfect. I hide a shaky breath at the sight of her neck, the exposed skin perfectly lit up and framed by auburn curls. Her chin is pointed towards me; her lips are a deep, sharp ruby but, if they are anything like I dreamt, they are soft and sweeter than any candy that exists.

I look up further.

Blue eyes. Not black. I've seen them before, but not in my dreams.

The whole face suddenly pieces together. My expression turns from shock to disgust. I silently let out a scowl.

Diane...

Diane's Perspective

I have to confess my friends were the ones who had this idea. Adrielle, my best friend and the one who initially spotted the drawings in sweet-little Sky's notebook, insisted on seeing what my hair would look like if I dyed it the same red the woman had in the sketches. I had been thinking about dyeing my hair for quite a while now, so I wasn't exactly opposed to it. Even I must admit, Sky had an excellent color choice for the hair of whatever fantasy woman was sprawled throughout her notebook. As Adrielle kept going on about it though, she revealed this plan of dyeing my hair and then having me go up to Sky, just to get a reaction out of her.

"She didn't just have that one drawing," Adrielle said eagerly, "She had tons. It looked like there were more on other pages too! She probably has some weird daydreams about that woman or that look. I haven't seen anyone around campus that has that hair. Sky must have made it up."

"Why are you pushing this so much?" I asked, waving my hand to emphasize the ridiculousness of it all. "The drawings could be something, yes, but they also could be nothing at all. There are a million other reasons why people draw in notebooks."

"Imagine if she gets off to those drawings though..." Adrielle said slowly, her eyes reaching mine with a teasing, pointed look.

I thought about it for a moment. Sky ― Little Miss studious, quiet, innocent Sky ― having s****l fantasies? I doubt she'd have time to fit that into her strict schedule.

"Come on," Adrielle sighed. "You can't say you're even the slightest bit curious."

"I'm not," I said dully. "I think it's more likely that I'd be embarrassed if I approached her with that hair."

"As if you could be embarrassed," she scoffed, "you always play it off as being cool."

I rolled my eyes.

"Do it for me, and I'll owe you one..."

"Fine."

I sit down next to Sky and, at first, she barely takes any notice of me. Hell, she hardly even gives me a glance. I watch her patiently as she focuses intently on her drawing once again. Much to my amusement, Sky is recreating that woman she had sketched before. It's not often that people around me outside of my group look relaxed in my presence or even go so far as to ignore me. Whether because of my actions or the rumors, people know who I am. They even go so far as fearing being around me. It's a little hilarious because, truthfully, I don't believe I've done anything that threatens any of these people, so they have no reason to be afraid, yet they are just because word gets around. Diane is a crazy b***h, Diane said this, Diane did that, and on and on... I could complain about it, but let's be honest, I'd be lying if I said I didn't love it. To walk into a room and hold command over people's minds is thrilling. I don't need to say a word. In fact, I may be labeled as in charge of my "gang of fiends" but most days, I hardly say a thing when we're together. I don't need to. I have their respect; I have everyone's respect, and their fear, because my friends and I are different from everyone else and that's terrifying. We're loose cannons. Anything could happen when we're around. I could snap at any moment and kill everyone in this room if I so please.

Sky pauses for a moment, her head turning slightly to gaze back at me ― no, at my hair again. Her expression drops instantly. I watch curiously as she stares at my hair as if she's seen a ghost. It must be some ghost because, although her deep brown eyes stay rooted in one spot, they reflect this sort of image of mental cogs getting stuck so much so that she can't even breathe. I smirk to myself as I watch Sky struggle to function, unable to move or likely to even think. She stays frozen in that spot for an unnaturally long time. She's broken. I've fried her hard drive; her brain has finally gone into overload.

This is so much more fun than I could have ever dreamed of. I imagined shock, distaste, maybe even swearing from Sky's lips, but never did I think she'd see me and break so completely. She looks utterly helpless right now, a mere broken doll who needs a puppeteer to control her because she cannot do it herself. The idea of me playing with her, moving her limbs without her resistance, ignites something deep inside of me that I know I'd never let see the light of day.

But Sky, sweet-little-innocent Sky seems so... powerless and weak. She used to insult and bite back at me before. I admit, hearing her bark at me has been refreshing considering how most people normally would cower. I'd even go so far as to say that, in some twisted way, I liked it. Her hatred was a fuel I'd gladly take from her whenever I pleased. Now, look at her, all her mind does is stutter, but that doesn't make it any less enjoyable. If I wanted to ― if I let go of my inhibitions and was set loose ― I could do whatever I want to her right now.

Remind me to thank Adrielle for pushing me to do this. If she hadn't, I never would have watched Sky crumble at the sight of me.

Her eyes finally move to examine different strands of the same auburn color, fully taking in the sight of my hair. As I watch her, I realize she's not crumbling; she's melting. The shocked look clear in her eyes is still there. Clear underneath is an emotion that is almost awe and wonder, but can only best be described as pure admiration. It's as if she's staring into the sun. As if I'm the sun, the sole thing that gives her life, light, and purpose, and just seeing me makes a smile tug at the edge of her lips.

She's smiling; I'm not even sure if she's conscious of it. Part of me wants to growl in response out of pure instinct, yet the other part of me feels a strange warmth that runs down my spine to my fingertips and even lower. What is this?

Her gaze flutters over to my jacket, taking in its sleekness and design in such a soft, fond way that it sends my mind reeling in a way I wasn't expecting when I first sat down in that chair. She moves on to examine my arms and gloves. Never in a million years would I have imagined this is how our encounter would go. The turn catches me off guard. As her gaze trails down my hands, looking closely as if they are works of art when really they're just flesh covered in fabric, I swallow. Those eyes ― earthy, muddy, but speckled with flecks of gold so that every dip in the iris is flush with a possibility of goodness, a surprise at that glorious precious metal mixed in with dirt that you feel inclined to sink your hands into and feel up close (imagine feeling them―no, it―no, god, dare I say her up close), brown so deep you think that if you could sink your whole soul into it and you still wouldn't be anywhere near touching the bottom ― eyes so rooted in nature and the earth have no right to belong to someone named "Sky".

Right now, I'm starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, she is the very planet we walk upon. Her body appears so grounded to the earth and dirt, yet her head must be up in the clouds right now and, the longer I gaze at her, the more I start to feel like I'm up in the clouds with her. I've never felt this high. Unable to breathe due to the lack of oxygen from such a high altitude, but also weightless, as if she willed it so gravity no longer affected me; as if she designed her planet just to make it so I could fly even without wings.

Fuck am I soaring right now.

She takes extra time to observe my fingers. My persona cracks, my flying bringing me so close to the sun that I start to melt, and I reach for my pen almost without thinking. Despite every ounce of me screaming to keep it together, nervousness for the first time in years gets the better of me. I fidget with the pen. She watches even closer, her eyes telling volumes without her needing to open her mouth.

She finally lets her gaze drift up. Her eyes drag tantalizingly slowly up my collarbone and neck before reaching my lips; I swear I see her mouth part slightly and begin to water.

Sky looks me in the eye for the first time since I sat down.

I watch as her face drops, her eyes emptying out all the adoration and admiration that was there and instead filling with nothing but distaste and anger.

"Don't look so disappointed," I say sweetly. "I thought you'd appreciate the new look. You almost didn't recognize me for a moment there."

Sky scowls, as she always does, and I smile slyly to myself. There's the bratty attitude I know. Her mouth opens to say something but the gears in her mind seem to be stuck again, so nothing comes out.

"You're adorable when you get flustered."

Her cheeks turn red at my words. She quickly looks away, having to hide her face to make up for her weak voice. "Go bother your own rat gang."

"I don't know, I'm having way too much fun bothering you," I purr.

"f**k you."

"If that's what you want..."

Her jaw drops hesitantly. It's hard to deny the thrill I get from watching my words have such an obvious effect on her. She quickly tries to cover it up by scrunching her face and giving a head shake in disapproval either directed towards me or herself, I can't tell which.

"Leave me alone," she mutters. "Haven't you had enough fun already?"

"I've just barely scratched the surface, Sky."

"My humiliation isn't enough for you?"

"There are more levels of pleasure underneath it, I can tell."

"Is everything s****l in that twisted brain of yours?" she hisses.

"Only the best things are," I hum, enjoying every moment of this, like a cat enjoying playing with a cockroach, torturing it for their own amusement and feeling that excitement of watching the little roach squirm before they strike it with their paw. "The world would be boring otherwise."

She lets out another frustrated scowl. "Just let me focus on this class. Please. I actually want to pass, unlike you."

"You need to loosen up, little Sky," I say teasingly, though my eyes hold such mean darkness that betrays my words. "Those grades you cling to can't give you the high you're looking for."

"They can make it so, in the future, you're able to pay for one though," she bites back.

My lips form a mean smile as I look over her. So much feistiness wrapped up in such a small, quiet form. It's a wonder she manages to keep it all contained and portray such an innocent, kind image when I can really see right through her. Her bark and bite are just the tip of what's buried underneath those treasure troves in her mind. Behind this outer shell, there is something much more interesting. I know it.

The professor walks in and the chit-chat dies down instantly. Sky barely spares me a glance as she prepares her notes. "Don't distract me," she says with finality.

"I'm not the one whose mind keeps getting distracted," I remind her with a sly smirk.

Her face turns red hot, fumes practically steaming from her ears, yet all she allows herself to let out is a huff. She returns her focus to her notebook. So cute and determined to keep her cool. I smile and look away from her finally.

― ― ― ― ―

Class finishes and Sky gets out of dodge quickly, much to my disappointment. However, my priorities quickly fall elsewhere. I have my dorm to myself for an hour or two today, which is a minor miracle on its own, one that I will not be wasting. I close the window hastily, letting the blinds fall over it to block out the outside world. The anticipation builds as I smooth my comforter and let my eyes roam about the room, checking that the door is locked and no one can see into the space. I haven't done this in ages. Something lower stirs, a certain compulsion slowly overtaking my bones, and it finally hits me just how badly I've been craving this. I plug in my headphones, picking a playlist I know all too well with lyrics I have memorized ten times over by now.

I strip.

My shirt and pants fall to the floor dramatically, leaving me left standing in only a black bra and underwear.

I lie down on my bed, feeling the fabric beneath my bare skin, savoring the brush of air against the flesh that has been hidden for far too long ― oh how I missed this. I drag my hands down my breasts. The touch of my own hand against myself is exciting, yes, but what sets me off more is the idea of someone else touching me instead. Various thoughts fly through my mind as my hand moves lower: someone else grabbing at my skin, meanly and cruelly, nails digging into my flesh, and teeth sinking in so deep that they draw blood. Kisses full of the passion of a thousand suns burning each other so much that they are causing their own destruction. Fingers, powerful little machines, taking every crevice of my body and claiming it as theirs before attacking the spot I so desperately want to be mistreated.

I start my descent to my pelvis, searching through the layer of underwear. I jolt when I first hit it, electricity being shocked through my veins. I gently massaging my c**t at a slow pace. My legs start to warm, practically being melted into jelly. Imagine the sound of chains. Handcuffs tying me down. Whips hitting against my skin and leaving marks that bruise, bleed, or scar. Collars choking me, belts slapping, a gag making it so I can no longer scream, chains so tight and restricting that I can't move an inch... I pick up the pace, my finger moving faster in a rocking back-and-forth motion. My legs tighten on impulse. My throat threatens to release a sound, so I turn my head and bite down on my upper arm to keep quiet. The pain combined with me touching my c**t creates a strange dynamic between waves of agonizing sensations and pleasure that further encourages it. My hips rock forward as I try to cope with the mixture. I force myself to bite down harder. Electric rods sting and make the body seize, twitch, and squirm. Leashes that remind me my body is no longer mine. Blindfold, so I am vulnerable. Needles that inject a formula that knocks me out, leaving me helpless to whoever is near me. And, of course, imagine if I was the one in control of doing all of these things to someone else...

My fingers move slightly and an immense feeling of euphoria runs over me. That's the right spot. I stay on it, moving faster. The familiar sensation of fluid building, threatening to burst comes forward as I keep going. But picture soft hands stroking every inch of my skin. Lips so sweet and delicate that they make me feel safe and weak in all the right ways. A body on mine, so secure that I don't need to be strong or worried about defending them, because they are so complete on their own that I know they could take on anything. Faster. I'm so close. So goddamn close. I'm right on the very edge. Touches so gentle and fleeting, but firm on my c******s and diving down deeper to penetrate me so much so that I can't hold back my moan. Hair that brushes against my skin as the person kisses my neck, leaving a beautiful trail of red marks that will disappear in an instant just as the feeling of them against me does and leaves me craving for more―

Imagine Sky being here.

My whole body seizes up and an agonizingly gorgeous amount of euphoria runs through every muscle in my body. My mouth opens but not even a single breath comes out. I can feel my underwear getting wetter beneath the fabric under my fingers, but I'm not paying attention to that right now. All I can feel is joy and beautiful tension, so much so that I almost pass out.

Glorious seconds pass and my body finally collapses against the bed. Pleasure rolls down my whole body.

I heave out heavy breaths. God, I missed that.