The Reality Of Nightmare (BxB)

CHAPTER XLI: THE REALITY OF NIGHTMARE (LAST CHAPTER)

CHAPTER XLI: THE REALITY OF NIGHTMARE (LAST CHAPTER)

ALWAYS

"You were you,
and I was I;
we were two,
before our time.

I was yours,
before I knew;
and you have always
been mine too."

- Lang Leav

My mother has visited me several times, and my father seems to have moved on already. Despite what happened, my father is still the King of Heavens and hasn't been demoted. Somewhat I'm thankful. I know my father generally likes to help mortals and the angels, and it's his life basically, so I know being stripped off of his title will have a great impact on him. I feel guilty for putting him in such scenario, but at the same time, it feels great that to have him knocked some sense into him. It was quite difficult dealing with him, and I know my boyfriend of a demon has realized that already. Still he put up a good fight, one that I wish I had seen.

"Do you know what this means for us?" I ask him as I play strands up his hair, curling it around my index finger, his head resting on my thigh. His eyes – that always give me this tingling sensation that always runs through my spine – meet mine and I know he has the same question. After all, we haven't heard of anyone being a demon-angel hybrid.

Slate rolls over on his stomach on the couch we were sitting on, the sun of light glinting across his majestic face – the face that I have always dearly admired and loved, and he rests his chin on his palm, his eyes not once breaking contact with mine. He merely shrugs before his index finger from his free hand draws soothing circles on my thigh where his head was previously resting. His luscious lips are set in a thin line, but there's no hint of anger and any sort of negative emotions on his face. From what it seems like, he's been thinking. I lean down and pecks his lips just because I feel like it, and it doesn't really disappoint me when he starts to move his lips with mine, getting in sync as if they have memorized the dance choreography well. He lets go of his arm that's supporting his chin, stretches it out towards me and around my neck. He rests his palm at the back of my head, his fingers playing with the nape. His hand is warm, seeping through my skin and I feel myself getting excited over minimal gestures he's doing to me.

Only Slate can give me this excitement, this feeling, and no one else.

He makes me feel all sorts of emotions there are, and I'm not going to complain. I thought I was really living a life in heaven, but when I met him and started being closer to him, I realized what heaven really feels like. I wouldn't give this up for anything, not to and for a single thing and I know that Slate wouldn't, too. This unit, in Brooklyn, is our sanctuary. He is my home, and I am his.

His tongue darts out, teasing my bottom lip, hoping to get some entrance and I oblige, parting my lips a little and he slips his tongue in. His tongue explores my mouth like he hasn't explored yet, and the feeling for me is like it's the first time. His free hand massages my chest, touching almost everywhere and honestly, I can't get enough of it. There's this sudden urge to be closer to him physically and spiritually. The burning passion, I can feel it through the kiss. The way he caresses my skin as if it's the most prized position he has ever held. His hands retreat only for his arms to freely wrap around my waist, pulling me closer gently, as if I could break easily. His head is slightly tipped due to the position he's in, and it doesn't hinder him from deepening the kiss and putting his tongue deeper into my mouth. I groan loudly, feeling his taut muscles against my fingers. My fingers trace his collarbone and neck and it feels so soft against my touch.