The Devil's Angel

Part 3.9~ Lucifer

Sorry this took so long! School stuffs been SUCKY. High school is the legit worse. 

Sadly my friends, the end is nigh. Yes, yes, I know, tragic. But, this story is now going on 1 and half years, and I think it's time to end it. Thank you for sticking with me thus far! PLEASE DON'T BE SAD FRIENDS. Demon's Puppy will still be going, and my other stories (for those of you who read them). 

I hate to just end this beautiful relationship, but school is interfering with my writing, and it's a heck of stress. My AP class, APUSH (AP U.S History), is biting my butt. I literally cried 3 time in one night trying to finish an assignment. Went to sleep at 3 a.m only to wake up at 7:25 a.m, cause I spent an extra hour writing this chapter. I really, really hope y'all aren't too mad, and take this as a chance to indulge in my other writings (or find a new author altogether).

As always, please enjoy!

~

It had been a week since I had fallen asleep. A. Week. I asked how I had been asleep that long, but Isaiah had just chuckled. It annoyed me, of course, but what could I do?

I also felt more... attached to him than before? It was hard to explain, but I felt more comfortable with him than I had anybody else. Even Liam, who hadn't quit bugging me until Isaiah threatened him. I didn't know with what, but one day Liam said he would be back in a while and left quickly. 

Not my concern. 

I rolled onto my stomach, trying to focus on the book I was reading. I laid sprawled on the floor, a book on Grimm's Fairy Tales open in front of me. It was a bit hard to focus, especially with Isaiah asleep on the couch merely a few feet away. 

It was rare that I saw him asleep, as I always fell asleep first. He sat with his thighs parted, head tilted back to rest on the back of the couch. he wasn't wearing formal attire, but a tight tee with tiny words and pair of black joggers, along with a pair of black ankle socks.

Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me, and I got up from my black on the rug. Carefully, so I didn't wake him, I crawled up onto the couch. I leaned closer, studying his eyelids to make sure he was really awake, and then climbed onto his lap. Tilting my head, I touched one of his arms, eyes widening at the firmness of his muscles. Concentrating, I traced the outline of them with a featherlight touch, careful not to wake him up.

Honesty, I didn't know what possessed me to do something so embarrassing. There was like this... little urging, in the back of my mind, saying that nothing bad could occur with what I was doing. 

Leaning a bit closer to his chest, I studied the small print on his shirt. It was super tiny, but I could make out the words on it. It said 'F * C K   L I F E'. Somehow, I wasn't surprised. 

Up on his face, I traced his features with my finger. I nudged his sharp jawline, then yanked back my hand as if it would cut me. His eyelashes quivered, and I froze, scared he was walking up. But nothing happen, and I heaved a sigh of relief. 

All of a sudden, Isaiah's eyes opened, and he jolted upright. Shrieking, I threw myself back, falling onto the floor. I heard laughing from above, and scowled as I sat up, rubbing my shoulder. It had hit the ground when I fell. Isaiah was laughing so hard I thought his brain might've been broken. 

"It's not funny," I said, feigning my anger so my face didn't erupt. I turned away, moving back to my book.

When he finally stopped laughing, he asked, "Why were you in my lap?"

Fighting back my blush, I said, "You had something on your face."

"Oh?" I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Did you get it?"

My face started to warm up, so I quickly retorted, "You can't remove ugliness."

That made him laugh again. "I'm sure." He got up, and walked over to the door of the room. "I'll be back after I wash my face," he joked, shaking his head as he walked out.

As soon as he was gone, I face planted into the carpet. It muffled my screams of embarrassment. My face was so hot, I was sure it was crimson red at that point. SO. EMBARRASSING. 

I rolled on the carpet, trying to ease my shame. Eventually I hit the couch, so I had to stop. I sat up and lazily crawled onto it. I laid down and curled into a small ball, accumulating my warmth. The pillows wero too far, so I didn't bother reaching for one. The cushions under me were enough anyways. I closed my eyes, just laying there, trying to figure out why I did what I did. 

The space next to my head pressed down, so I knew someone was sitting next to me. And I knew exactly who it was. 

"Tired?" Isaiah asked.

"I slept for a week. What do you think?" I asked back. 

He chuckled. "You have a point." And then there were hands under my arms dragging me onto his lap. 

"Um, excuse me. What are you doing?" I stared up at him, annoyed.

"Oh, what's wrong? You had no problem being on my lap earlier," he teased, making my face erupt once again. To hide my blush, I hid my face in his chest. 

I muttered, "Whatever." His chest was emanating a warmth, a warth that was making my sleepy all over again. I involuntarily let out a yawn. 

"So you are tired," he said smugly. 

"Shut up," I said, my voice muffled my his chest. 

"Lucifer?"

"What?"

He muttered something I couldn't hear, so I lifted my head, resting my chin on his chest while looking into his eyes. 

A cheeky smirk graced his lips. "Love you."

~