by Katie May
The Devils’ words tug at something inside of me. At the desperate little girl yearning for a family of her own and people who love her. Why do they have to do this to me now? When I’m finally beginning to heal? Sooner or later, they’re going to pull the rug right out from underneath my feet.
They want a relationship…
With me?
That concept is comical, and for the hundredth time, I wonder if this is some elaborate prank. Is this a way for them to abate their guilt? Develop a relationship with the freaky witch and then voila! All of your sins will be washed away. Or is it possible that they actually do have feelings for me?
I don’t even realize I’ve stopped playing until the bow clatters against the cold tiles of the practice room. Surprisingly enough, the air outside is warm, though the air conditioning blowing through the vents combats the humidity.
Lunch has long since ended, but I remain hidden in the practice room at the end of the hall. No one ever travels this far, so I doubt I’ll get caught. And if the school calls Nana about my attendance, she’ll cover for me. She owes me that much, at the very least.
The last thing I want to see are any of the Devils and the sub who replaced Mrs. Town for Lit.
Unbidden, my eyes flicker to the brand new violin case again before I chance a glance at the closed practice room door. I even go as far as to poke my head out, ensuring that the hall is empty, before tiptoeing on silent feet to Cassian’s present.
I can barely hear anything over the pounding in my heart. For some reason, it feels as if accepting this gift will mean that the war is over and I lost. It means that I’ve laid down my weapons and am now awaiting my punishment with bated breath. It’s utterly ridiculous, I know, but it’s how I feel as I unclasp the case and pull it open.
I don’t want to be in anyone’s debt, least of all Cassian Jereome.
Tentatively, I run my hand over the smooth, reddish-brown wood. It’s cold to the touch, but unlike the violin the school gave me, not a speck of dust or dirt adorns the instrument. I pluck first one string and then another, squeezing my eyelids shut as the notes reverberate through the room.
At the top of the case is a bow, made out of the same wood as the violin itself. The strings are stark white, not the murky brown of the archaic one still lying on the ground.
I want to play this beautiful instrument so bad that it’s a physical ache. I want to feel the music rumble through me like a storm inside of my body. Thunder crashing like cymbals. Lightning splicing the sky apart in golden-white light. Rain battering against the pavement, the noise destroying my eardrums.
Like a woman possessed, I lift the violin and place it beneath my chin. I settle the bow on the taut strings and slowly, almost hesitantly, begin to play.
The song courses through me. A song of hope and joy. Of despair and pain. It’s a myriad of emotions and feelings, some of which I don’t even understand.
And then I realize.
It’s the ending of my song, “Charming Devils.” It’s the bridge. The final chorus. The grand finale.
I allow the music to guide me, my eyelids fluttering shut as I drift away with the music. A few things still need work, a few notes that weren’t hit perfectly, but when I allow my eyes to reopen a few minutes later, I know I have it.
The ending.
Tentative clapping breaks me out of my reverie, but I don’t turn around.
“How long have you been there?” I question tiredly, crouching down to place the bow and violin back into the case.
“Long enough to hear you kick ass,” Cassian replies from somewhere behind me. I hear his footsteps against the tiles as he comes closer—close enough for his breath to waft across my neck, stirring my white-blonde hair. “That was…”
“Why are you here?” I finally turn towards him, straightening from my crouched position. He stands directly before me, his muscular arms crossed over his broad chest as he stares down at me. I notice that he cleaned off most of the chili, though a few stains remain on his shirt. Those brown eyes of his, flecked with gold, seem to reap my very soul from my body. I just don’t know if he intends to bring it to heaven or hell.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he replies, and for once, I don’t see even a hint of his customary teasing grin. His face is uncharacteristically solemn.
“About what you guys said? About how you guys all want to date me?” I ask, allowing my disbelief to bleed into my tone. He winces slightly before nodding.
“I know it sounds crazy—”
“It sounds absolutely fucking insane. You know that, right?” I demand. When he continues to stare at me, pleading for me to hear him out, I shake my head slowly. “You don’t even like me.”
“That’s not true,” he protests adamantly, a fire burning in those dark orbs of his. He starts to take a step closer but then thinks better of it, and clenches his hands into fists. “The reasons why I did what I did…it was never because I didn’t fucking like you. I think that was my problem.”
“You liking a girl?” I ask, voice laced with disbelief.
“Yes.” Unlike me, he’s being completely serious, almost confusingly so. “There are a lot of reasons why I did the things I did, baby,” he presses on, his lips quirking slightly when I growl at the nickname. “My dad left my mom and me before middle school began, but I think we both know that wasn’t the real reason. Or at least, it wasn’t the only one.”
“You’re making no fucking sense, Cassian.” I scrub a hand through my hair, loosening the ponytail I haphazardly threw it into when I arrived here.
“And you swear too much, baby,” he teases with a wink. “How come I didn’t know about this filthy mouth of yours back in middle school?”
“There’s a lot I can do with this filthy mouth of mine,” I purr, sashaying forward until I’m directly in front of him. I press onto my tiptoes and stare him in the eyes. “But you’re never going to find out what.”
“Damn, woman.” He pantomimes fanning himself before lowering his hand and repeating the process with his crotch. “You’re making me hot.”
“At least it’s ‘woman’ and not ‘baby’ now,” I retort, attempting to pass him, but before I can take more than a step, he grabs my wrist, forcing me to a halt.
“Joking aside, Peony, I would very much like to explain.”
I twist my head so his striking face fills my vision. Currently, his brows are pinched, but that doesn’t make his features any less statuesque, like a marble relic. Heat sizzles through my veins as I stare into his muddy eyes, and he offers me a tremulous smile.
“Okay. Talk. I’m listening.”
He releases me then, nodding for me to take a seat. He distractedly scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with me once more.
“You’re probably so fucking sick of hearing this already, but I’m sorry. About everything.”
“Actually,” I interrupt, “it’s pretty damn satisfying to hear those words. But I prefer it when you’re on your hands and knees, with your head pressed to the floor in a bow.” The words are meant as a joke, as a way to lighten the mood, so you can imagine my surprise when Cassian drops to the floor like he’s on fire and fucking bows at my feet.
“Is this better?” The tiles muffle his voice from where he’s pressed against them, but I can hear the underlying amusement. I can actually feel my body’s internal temperature increase by a billion and one degrees as my entire body burns.
“You’re such an asshole,” I hiss, reaching down to pull at his shoulders. He finally lifts his head, his smile growing when he sees my red face. “Stop laughing.”
“You wanted me to bow at your altar,” he points out with a wry smirk. “And what my girl wants, my girl gets.”
“I’m not your girl,” I protest automatically. The words are entirely instinctive now, though I’m not even sure if they’re the truth anymore. At least, not the full truth.
His smile fades as he ambles back to his feet, returning to his incessant pa
cing.
“And that was my biggest problem,” he confesses, and I can barely hold in my snort.
“Because I wasn’t your girl, you decided to bully me? That really doesn’t make me feel better, Cass,” I snap, feeling the familiar wisps of anger slither around in my stomach.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He once more runs a hand over his buzzed head, his movements jerky with agitation. “Fuck! This is coming out all wrong.”
“Well, you’re not making any sense,” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re acting as if liking me is what made you bully me. Is that what this is? You pull a girl’s hair because you have a crush on her and want her attention?”
“That’s Lucas’s style, not mine,” Cassian says automatically. “And no, that’s not what I meant.”
“So you were mad that I wasn’t dating you?” I’m really not understanding where he’s going with this, and every word he says only exacerbates my rage.
“No, I was mad that I liked you,” Cassian snaps, but this time, I don’t know if his irritation is directed at me or himself.
“That doesn’t make any—”
“I was mad that I liked girls,” he stresses, finally whirling on me. His chest heaves, and for once, he doesn’t look as meticulously groomed as he usually does. He has never been as put together as Lucas—though I don’t think anyone alive is. But I’ve never seen him this…disheveled before. I don’t know how else to describe it. His eyes look wild and unhinged, his dark shirt is untucked and still stained with chili, and there’s a hole in his jeans that I swear hadn’t been there earlier.
It takes a few moments for those words to click in my brain, and I can’t help but drop my mouth open in shock. I quickly try to hide my completely instinctive reaction by snapping it closed.
“What do you mean?” I manage to ask, and he rubs a huge hand down his face.
“It means exactly what it sounds like, baby.”
“You like…guys?” I try to connect what I know about Cassian with what he’s telling me. It just doesn’t add up. He’s the biggest womanizer around school, constantly bragging about a different conquest every day.
“Yes and no.” He shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders simultaneously, staring at me helplessly. “At that time, yes. I was mainly attracted to guys. But then you came along, this tiny little girl with beautiful white hair and alluring amber eyes, and I found that I couldn’t look away. I didn’t even want to. You quickly monopolized my every thought. Not gonna lie…my first masturbation? It was to you.” He releases a haggard breath as he stops pacing, facing the far wall. “You have to understand, I was confused as fuck. I thought I liked dudes, and then there’s you, this fucking anomaly. I think a part of me resented you for that, for making me so fucking confused.” He spins towards me once more. “You want to know what really did me in? What was the final nail in my coffin?”
I shake my head wordlessly. Do I want to know? I timidly lick my upper lip before my head shake turns into a head nod.
“We never broke you,” he whispers. I immediately open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head and continues before I can voice my mounting thoughts. “It’s the truth. We didn’t. Not completely.” A small grin twists up his lips as he scratches at his chin. He must’ve shaved recently, not an ounce of hair visible on his artfully handsome face. “You always got this stubborn glint in your eyes whenever we…whenever we bullied you.” Pure despair clouds his eyes. “I’m not going to pretend like we did anything else. We bullied you, Peony. Plain and simple. But when you stood up to us…it only made my feelings for you grow.”
I bite down on my lower lip, struggling with the plethora of emotions crashing through me. No, not through me. Into me. Is this what it feels like to be hit by a car? To topple over sideways as glass shatters around you?
Before I can even think to articulate one of the thousands of thoughts clamoring for attention, Cassian continues, voice grave. “When you left, it was like I’d been kicked in the balls. I never experienced such crippling pain before. I searched for you, you know. I even went to your house, but it had already been abandoned. And then I realized…I was in love with you. It was a demented, fucked up sort of love, but it was all I had to offer you. At least then.”
“Do you still…?” I don’t even know what I’m asking. I place my fist to my mouth and bite down on my knuckles, relishing the sting of pain from my teeth.
“Like guys?” He quirks a brow. “Yeah. Girls, too. I’ve been with both.” He takes a step forward until he’s in front of me before dropping to his knees. His large hands land gently on my thighs, squeezing once. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m attracted to both genders. But there’s only been one person I’ve ever had true, genuine feelings for, and that person is you.”
I can scarcely breathe. I’m pretty sure that my lungs fail me at this moment. Heaven only knows that my heart does. This proud, arresting man is on his knees for me. To confess his feelings for me.
And I have no idea how to respond.
Vulnerability emanates from his eyes as his hands tighten on my knees.
“You’re the only girl I ever truly had feelings for, baby. There are not enough words in the fucking dictionary to tell you how sorry I am.”
For the first time in forever, I’m not pissed or upset by the nickname “baby.” If anything, warm sparks ignite in my bloodstream as I stare into his expressive, chocolate eyes.
“All I need is one chance to prove myself to you,” he charges on. “One fucking chance. Maybe we won’t work. Maybe we’ll realize that we’re not compatible when we’re not actively trying to destroy each other.” His pouty lips twitch slightly, as if he finds our war amusing. “And maybe I’ll discover you put pineapple on pizza and then we’ll have to break up.”
“Fruit doesn’t go on pizza,” I counter, my brain struggling to process all of his words. “You don’t see raspberries or apples on pizzas, do you?”
He flashes his shiny white teeth at me in a smile. “Or maybe I’ll discover you think Carol Baskin is innocent.”
“Nah. Bitch definitely killed her husband,” I breathe as my eyes flicker to his mouth. I want to taste it, taste him.
“I want a chance to woo you. Wine and dine the fuck out of your perfect ass. Which is why…” He jumps to his feet and moves towards the door of the practice room. Before I can ask him where he’s going, he grabs his backpack from where he must’ve discarded it in the hallway before he came in.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he unzips his bag and takes out a checkered blanket. Next comes a few electronic candles, a Tupperware container, and a smooshed flower. “What is all this?”
“This is our first date,” he says with a cheeky smile. He lays the blanket out and places a candle on each corner. Lifting the lid off the Tupperware, he reveals a sandwich cut in half. Turkey, cheese, lettuce, and tomato. My favorite. Next, he grabs his water bottle, opens the top, and places the wilted flower inside of it, setting it directly in the middle of the blanket. “A romantic picnic.”
“While we’re skipping class?” I ask dubiously, though my heart begins to do gymnastics in my chest and dozens of birds fly around in my stomach. This feeling is too intense to be mere butterflies.
“Well, I wasn’t sure if I would get another opportunity to woo you,” he replies unrepentantly, tossing me another one of those megawatt smiles. I’m beginning to realize that this particular smile is different from the ones he usually gives out. It’s not as forced, and it actually reaches his glossy, chestnut eyes.
“Did I even say yes to this date?” I ask as I move from the chair to sit opposite him on the blanket. He hands me one half of the sandwich, and the fluttery feeling in my stomach intensifies. Now, instead of just birds, it’s fucking airplanes nosediving from the sky. My hands actually begin to shake.
“I just bared my soul to you, baby. This totally counts as a fucking date.” He takes a large bite of his sandwich, eyes never leaving my face. It’
s almost as if he’s afraid that if he looks away, I’ll disappear. Like a mirage in the desert.
“Am I…?” I clear my throat. “Am I really the only person you ever had feelings for?”
That smolder of his returns as he undresses me with his gaze. “I wouldn’t lie about that.”
“And I know you said you’re attracted to both genders, so I was just…” Once more, I’m unable to finish my thought, so I settle on shoving the sandwich into my face. He smirks at me.
“Are you asking if I’m sexually attracted to anyone else at this moment? Say…one of your other boyfriends?”
I begin to choke on my sandwich bite. “Not. Boyfriends.”
“Like, do I imagine licking down their abs? Taking their cocks in my mouth? In my ass?” His grin grows as my blush deepens. “I realized that I like taking, by the way. So if you ever want to try pegging…”
“Oh my god!” I bring both hands to my cheeks in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. But his dirty words did the trick, and I can feel myself turning damp. The thought of him with one of the other Devils…
“But to answer your question, yes, I think they’re attractive men. No, I don’t have feelings for them, and I doubt I ever will. But sex? Only if you’re between us, baby.”
“I’m pretty sure my cheeks will stay this color if you don’t shut up,” I hiss, and he laughs, completely unperturbed.
“I like that color on you. I like everything about you.” He pauses, glancing down at the crunched up flower. Is that a…? Is that a peony? His next words effectively break through my lust-filled haze. “I even like that you’re a witch.”
“What?” I ask, aghast. Did I hear him right? Maybe he said “bitch.” Yes, that makes more sense. He thinks I’m a bitch.
“You heard me.” That cocky smile never leaves his face, though it does wilt in the corners like the flower before us. His eyes suddenly turn serious. “Peony, I know.”
“What…? How…?”
“And I know you put that fucking boner spell on me as well.” His lips twist into a grimace. “That was really mean, by the way. Though it was surprisingly easy to break.” He leans forward to whisper, “All I had to do was envision you while jerking off.”
