"Let's play a love game, play a love game

Do you want love or you want fame?

Are you in the game?

Dans le love game."

- Lady Gaga, LoveGame

, and the moment my eyes shot open, I see that the sky outside is dark, stars are already twinkling brightly as well as the moon, giving a heavenly light to the world.

Turning around, I see the naked chest of Slate in front of my face and a blush immediately creeps into my cheeks. I look up only to see him sleeping peacefully; his lips are slightly parted, giving a way for the air to get out of his cute plump lips. I lick my lower lip, my head flashing the image of us intensely kissing each other, sucking each other's face as we made out. I didn't know why I wasn't able to stop, wasn't able to control myself. Kissing him felt so good. It's like every part of my body had stopped functioning when his lips move against mine and it felt like my heart would explode from the feeling of being kissed. It was overwhelming in a good way.

Then he made me remember the first kiss we shared. I wasn't even angry about it. In fact, I was happy that he made me remember it because that first kiss we shared is extraordinary and I just can't let go of it. Though he was an asshole to keep it from me, made me forget it, I was still thankful that I got the chance to keep it in my heart. It's now buried in my heart.

A smile makes its way into my lips once I remember the kiss again. I know that it's wrong, so wrong to kiss a demon and enjoy it but I can't control what I'm feeling. Is this what humans feel? It's so hard to control what you really feel, so hard to contain what you really feel when all you want to do is scream and let it all out. Humans are easily deceived, fooled by demons, led to make sins. Is Slate deceiving me? Is Slate fooling me? Is Slate leading me to make sins, the sins that will throw me off guard and into the deepest, darkest part of the Hell where I will be tortured for eternity? Will I be become a fallen angel?

"What are you thinking about it?" Slate says groggily, brushing his eye with the back of hand, removing the sleepiness off of him. His voice jolts me up, scares me for a bit and I sigh in relief once I see that he's awake. "You're so deep in thought."

Shaking my head, I lean in closer, his arms wrapping around me and I heave a sigh. "There are just so much things running inside my head. So many questions. For one, what are we doing?" His arms are around me, and I feel secured and protected, as if no one can hurt me, can harm me, as long as I'm wrapped tightly around his strong and lean arms.

Slate remains silent, eyes shut as his jaw clenches and I suddenly get scared. Did I offend him? Did I say something that he didn't like? Then he opens his eyes, and even though the room is dimly-lit, I can make out the beauty of his soul-captivating brown eyes. Slate rests his forehead against mine, his breath fanning my face, and as each second passes by, my heart races, pounding, hammering against my chest, ringing in my ears. It seems like we both don't have an answer as to what we're doing. Is this lust? What am I feeling?

Looking at Slate, contemplating whether it is lust I'm feeling towards him, it doesn't seem like it. I mean, I don't even see myself having sex with him. Oh My God, did I just think about having sex with a demon like Slate? What's happening to me? What's wrong with me?

I blush harder, pushing the image of me bare naked in front of him, as well as him because really, it's not a good image. For now, a voice at the back of my head says and I tense. Does this mean that if we continue doing whatever we're doing right now, it will lead me to me having sex with him or Slate having sex with me? The thought is mortifying enough that it has me standing out of bed, eyes wide open as if I've seen a ghost or a demon for the first time ever.

"What the hell?" Slate practically screams the question out loud, and I run to his bathroom, which door is slightly ajar. The light is turned off, and when I get inside the bathroom, I quickly shut the door behind me, back resting on the door, and I turn on the light. My heart keeps pounding hard against my ribcage like a drum. I put a palm on my chest where my racing heart lies, trying to calm it down. Then Slate bangs on the door rapidly. "Open the damn door, Hadraniel. Open this fucking door, Adrian or I swear I'm going to destroy this and you're not going to like it."

After being with Slate for so long, I know that whatever he said, he will do it without any hesitation or reluctance. He will do it with much happiness. That's just the way he is. Slate is very commanding, an asshole, a jerk; he likes things to run the way he wants it. Of course this is just me listing the things I don't like about him just to convince myself that whatever I'm doing with him, or whatever he's doing with me, is just a pending destruction for the both of us.

What I like about him is his lips – they are so kissable, so soft, so plump, inviting and they taste like the best dessert ever. I also like his jawline as it's firm and strong, and it really looks good with the fair amount of hair on it, and the stubble on his chin is just perfect. I also like his eyes – whenever I look his beautiful and heart-stopping brown eyes, I feel like I'm going to drown, feel like I'm going to be lost but at the same time found. I don't know what to feel anymore when I'm around him. I love the way he wraps his arms around me; it makes me feel protected, secured, free of harm and hurt. I love the way he runs his fingertips across my skin, as if he's admiring how soft my skin is. I also love the way he takes care of me. I also love the way he carries me.

"Adrian, you better back off because I'm going to destroy this motherfucking door," he says, his voice filled with malice and I back off the door instantly, unlocking the door and once I do, Slate immediately slips inside and wraps his arms around me. "What the hell was that about?" he asks through gritted teeth, glaring at me and I whimper when I see the intensity in his eyes as he stares down at me.

I remain silent, not trusting to open my mouth because God knows what words will spill out if I do. Slate continues to glare at me, his hands clenching and unclenching on his side. I want to hold his hand, to tell him that I'm just afraid of how the things are working. I'm confused; I don't know what's happening with us; I don't even have a slightest idea of what this is. So I have the right to be confused and scared, right? Slate can't blame me just because of how I feel, right?

Suddenly everything is overwhelming for me to handle. So I do what I usually do when I feel like I can't hold it any longer, or can't contain what I'm feeling anymore, I cry. Tears begin to pour out of my eyes and for a second, Slate is caught off guard as he sees me crying, looking lost like he doesn't know what to do now.

"It's just... I'm just lost," I say through cries, trying to stop my crying but the tears keep pouring out like goddamn river. Slate wraps his arms around me, gently tucking my head into the crook of his neck as I bawl. "I... I don't have... I don't have any idea what's happening and that scares me."

"Ye... yeah," says Slate awkwardly, patting my back stiffly. "Just... just pour your heart out."

"Then you're there, and you do these things to me, and I don't have any idea what you're doing and I wonder if I'm committing sins," I admit to him, wrapping my arms around him, pressing myself closer to him; his scent is making me calm somehow, and just having him this close to me, it feels like I'm going to be fine later on. "I wonder if I'm committing sins that will send me to Hell and be tortured for eternity, where demons can do whatever the hell they want to do to me just to hurt me."

"I'm not going to let that happen, Adrian," he says barely above a whisper, loud enough for me to hear, then he presses a soft kiss on my forehead which makes my inside relax. "You're not going to be sent to Hell just because of this; I promise that."

"What do you know about promises, Slate?" I ask, glaring daggers at him. "How can you make sure that I'm not going to be sent in Hell? I feel like every part of me, every part of my soul, is now being burned in Hell. So what do you know about promises, Slate?"

"Adrian –"

"My parents are the King and Queen of Heaven, Slate," I say to him with anger and suddenly I don't recognize myself at all. There are emotions in my heart that I didn't realize I have until now. Slate tenses, unwrapping his arms around me and looking at me with wide eyes. Did my revelation shock him? Did he not expect that I'm the heir of the throne in the Heaven? "Slate, I am Hadraniel Stars, the Angel of Love, and I don't even know what fucking love is. Maybe I deserve this because for Christ's sake, I'm an Angel of Love yet I don't even know what the purpose of love is. I can't even define it! My mother made a promise to me that someday I'd find the true meaning of love, but it feels like that promise will just remain a promise. So Slate, what do you know about promises? Stop making promises that you cannot keep!" I cry harder, slumping down on the cold tiled floor of the ground in the bathroom.

Slate remains silent, now glaring at me with so much hatred in his eyes. Slowly his skin becomes redder, his horns beginning to protrude out of his temples and his eyes darken. His deathly fangs are slowly showing, the pointy tip glinting. But staring at him, to be honest, I'm not at least bit afraid when I see him transforming into a demon being. Perhaps this is the time that he's going to kill me now that he has learned that I'm the heir to the throne in Heavens (that is if I ever find what love really means) I remain slumped on the ground, not moving, tears still flowing out my eyes. Then he sits down in front of me, eyes still hard, jaw clenched.

The tension in the air is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. "Hadraniel, if I promise something, I make sure that I keep it. My promise is not going to remain a promise. I will do whatever I have to do just for you not to be sent in Hell."

"How can you make sure about that?" I ask weakly, looking down at my lap.

"Because I promise you," he says as he leans down, his breath fanning my face. "And I hope that you remember this." His large hands cup my face, keeping my face in place, then he leans down and plants a soft kiss on my forehead and my eyes widen, remembering something that happened when I was still a kid.

Let me know your thoughts about this chapter by commenting below! What do you think Adrian remembered? What do you think happened when Adrian was still a kid? Any guess? As usual, the first one to comment will have this chapter be dedicated for him/her!

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