I looked up and saw Damien enter the room through the window. He came back. Maybe this time he would explain why he had saved me.
"Don't open that sketchbook," he stated, shutting the window.
"What? Why?" I questioned, glaring at him.
"Just don't. Give it here," he replied, hurrying to the bed with his hand outstretched.
I shook my head and refused to give him the sketchbook. Sticking out my tongue, I opened the book to the first page. There in my new sketchbook, was a drawing. It was a beautiful picture of a girl sleeping. She looked peaceful and tranquil...then I realized who the girl was. It was me. I examined her closely. Her lips were slightly pink like mine and they were slightly parted in her sleep, just like mine usually were. Her eyelashes were long and lightly colored like mine. Her hair was very detailed and it was colored a mousy brown like mine. It had to be me. There was no questioning it. I looked up at Damien who was looking away from me.
"Did you draw this?" I asked, showing him the picture.
He glanced at the picture and then looked away again. He nodded slightly and sat down in the chair next to my bed again. He leaned back carefully and avoided my gaze.
"It's beautiful, Damien. Can I keep it?"
"You would want to keep a picture from someone who tried to kill you and take your soul to the devil? What is wrong with you, Lyekka? Are you stupid?" he snapped, standing up again.
I absently touched the paper, tracing the drawn lines of my cheeks.
"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it...I was just...Lyekka..." he stammered, walking to my side.
"No, no. Don't apologize. It's true. I am stupid. I don't know what's wrong with me..." I replied, feeling a tear roll down my cheek.
"There's nothing wrong with you! I just didn't know what I was saying, Lyekka..."
"I got rejected for, like, the fiftieth time this morning. There must be something wrong with me...no one wants me..."
I stared down at hand of my broken arm and watch the tears fall on my palm. I wished that I knew what it was that made guys not want to be with me. Damien had made me realize that there was something wrong with me, but I didn't know what it was still. My eyes began to hurt with the pressure of the tears so I let the tears out to relieve the pressure. Not only did my eyes hurt, but my heart hurt too. It felt that everyone would have someone to be with, but I would be the only one who had no one. I didn't like being alone. Then I felt someone hug me. I glanced up and saw that Damien was hugging me gently. I felt his lips moving against the top of my head, tickling my scalp as he spoke.
"Don't cry. There's nothing wrong with you and you aren't perfect because no one is. You aren't unwanted; you're just unlucky in love, that's all," he whispered, gently patting my back.
I wrapped my arm over his and clenched the shoulder of his shirt in my hand. Turning my head I cried into his upper arm. Taking deep breaths to stabilize my crying, I smelled the faint smell of a campfire. It reminded me of the times when my parents weren't so busy and took me to the beach. We would have little campfires and the smell of the wood burning smelled so good to me. I smiled absently and breathed in the smell.
"Lyekka, I need to tell you something...", stated Damien, starting to pull away.
"Don't let me go!" I blurted suddenly.
He returned to hugging me and rested his head on top of mine.
"There's something that you must know. Satan still wants your soul. He sent a demon, Drake, to come tell me that he would return my wings if I took your soul to him..." he stated, sighing slightly. "Jeez, Drake is an ass. He the most powerful demon right now. He and I are...were...competing for that spot."
"That's good, right? You can get your wings back! You'll get better won't you? Your scars will go away, right? I'm so happy for you!" I exclaimed, forgetting my problems. "Now you can go and fight for your spot of power!"
"Lyekka, what are you saying? Don't you want to live?" he asked, pulling back slightly to look at my face.
"Well...yes and no. I'm saying that I don't want to see you in pain anymore," I replied, gently touching his back.
He stared at me at smirked slightly.
"I'm not giving your soul to Satan."
"What? Why? Don't you want your wings back?"
"I would like to have my wings back, but I don't want to get them back at your expense."
"What will Satan do?"
"He'll kill me probably."
I gasped. Angels could die? Was that really possible? I searched his face and looked for the answer. What would happen if and angel died? Where did they go?
"Where...what would happen to you?"
"When and angel dies, whether it is angelic or demonic, it becomes a lost soul."
Damien went on to explain that lost souls just roamed around for all eternity looking for somewhere to go. They were usually stuck inside the void between life and death. Sometimes lost souls were used by demonic angels to get rid of other souls. Lost souls tended to be powerful, but not more powerful than angels. Damien was a demonic angel. He explained that since Satan owned him, he was considered a demonic angel of death. There were angelic angels of death as well, but sometimes the demonic angels of death were ordered to steal souls.
Then Damien explained the importance of wings. Wings were used to store a large portion of the angel's powers. Without them, the angel wasn't considered full. Angels that lost their wings, still had all their powers, but they weren't usually as strong as they were before.
"So that's the explanation, huh?" I muttered, absently touching my cheek. "Will Satan try to kill me?"
"That's where the complications come in. You're a very important soul for some reason. Satan won't come after you his self. He'll have an demonic angel come after you. I think that angel will be Drake," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Don't worry though. I'm going to protect you."
"Don't! I don't want you to be killed, Damien! I don't want you to become a lost soul! Just take me to Satan! I'll be fine, I promise!"
"Don't be stupid. I won't ever do that. Besides, I enjoy a challenge. Drake can't kill me so easily. Go to sleep now."
I frowned and leaned back into the bed. I watched as Damien went back to his chair and rested his head on his hand with no expression. His hair was spiky and there were strands that fell in front of his eyes. He had three ear piercings on his right ear and two in the other. His eyes were almost white with dark gray around the edges of his iris. His skin was slightly tan and he wore a long sleeve shirt and nice jeans with beat up converse. Closing my eyes, I held that picture in my mind. I wanted to tell him that the reason I wanted to save him from Satan, was because I sort of liked him in a way. Unfortunately couldn't tell him though. It would ruin everything right now and I wanted to stay with him as long as this situation would allow us. As I was starting to drift off, a thought came to me.
"Damien? Exactly how evil are you?" I mumbled, shifting my broken arm.
At first there was no answer. I couldn't even hear Damien's breathing.
"You don't want to know, Lyekka. You don't want to know..."