𝕳𝖊'𝖘 𝕷𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝕬 𝕳𝖞𝖆𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖍

{ Romans 8:35-39 }

Chapter 29's song: And We Walk After By Trevor Kowalski

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{ "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." }
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The protagonist opens the door to a certain man's room. Peeling away the entrance lightly to the side, revealing the demon in the center of the room, observing the sacrificial colors in the fireplace ahead. His aura has morphed into a jet-black abyss emitting the same rancorous and fiendish energy of the humanoid.

Speaking of the beast, it's in the right corner next to the demon. Animosity and acrimony are heightened. The already thick black gas is rapidly spilling towards the woman. An attempt to envelop her in the same insufferable spirit. The prudent cynicism is connected with the other being in the space. Its master doesn't acknowledge the young lady, perhaps predicting the regular customary attitude towards the situation.

"Hullo, Vincent. I have some news for you. You might want to hear." She initiates the conversation between him. Not a peep slips from his mouth as he persists in distinguishing the crackling of the fire. The sounds resemble the quietude of that night, there were no screams to their torture. Just the Ancient Aramaic chanting and the loudest fire ever. "I'm leaving..." Y/n discloses.

"Whit?" Vincent breathes out. His abrupt impulse makes him whip his head to encounter her features. His eyes are searching into hers, desperately yearning to find falsified evidence to this statement. His eyebrows raise upwards slightly as he flares his nostrils. The truth is written all over her face and his facade instantly breaks, provoking him to take an involuntarily step back towards the fire.

"Yeah. My mother will be the governess of Émeric's sister. Therefore I will permanently depart to France in the next week." She confesses.

"Yer abandonin' me ta be with him, huh? After all, we've been through. I've been by yer side since ye were a leanbh. However, ye visit him once and ye've decided ta...depart. Especially when the death of ma parents is still relevant." He mentions, his voice seems to be intertwined with the solemn and blandness in him. Vincent's eyes divert over to the large window on the side of the bed. Noticing the constant rain splashing the panel.

"No. I didn't deliberately plan this. Besides my mother informed me demons can't feel emotions." Y/n reassures as if she's apprised of demonology and the demon's mind. There's a creature of that nature in front of her. His eyes gleam in affliction and disapproval at her human "epiphany".

"If ye were so inquisitive aboot whit demons can and can't do. Ye should've approached me and nae, they canna. Yet why dae ye think 'tis condonable ta leave yer grievous companion, regardless of their kind?" He scoffs, his arms intersecting each other, pushing up against his chest and shutting down any open body language to be interpreted by the young lady.

"Ye were lookin' out for yourself, huh? Like all humans do. Voracious, prideful, and lustrous. Ye didna even return ta me after thon day. Dae (Do) ye remember? Ye abandoned me and this is the first time I've seen ye since. It's been a week and a half. Ye never wance (once) came ta me for yer pathetic condolences. I heard Lilian's before I heard yours. Although ye still didna say I'm sorry for your loss. You've been mair (more) spiteful ta me in these past days. Then ye barge into ma room informin' me you're leavin'?"

"I apologize, Vince—"

"Ma name's Anteros. Not Vincent. I've informed ye aboot this and you've never listened ta me. Dae ye ever? I telt (told) ye, the exact French friend you're crawlin back to, endeavored to kill me and ye said: Oh, he's merely an Elitist. I am a demon. I shouldna be near him and ye could've gotten me or him killed. Ye are truly reckless, how can I be..." He trails off.

His voice morphs into an alienated forlorn as this sentiment ravishes inside of his body. Not being knowledgeable of what this sensation can be is dangerous to experience. He attempts to maintain that reticent tone, yet the weird feelings begin to overshadow his senses. "Vin—Anteros. You keep forgetting I'm an Elitist. I shouldn't be around you, but you are my frie—"

"Just like Émeric is, however, ye're goin' ta him and desertin' me in the process. I conjecture ye folks aren't solely friends. Whit is it aboot him thon (that) persuades ye ta favor him over me? Is he mair (more) sociable than me? Is he more endearin' than me? Is it because he's human?" He simulates the possibilities of why his closest friend is suddenly traveling away. She will be an adult in a couple of months, Can't she deny her mother if she genuinely wants to? Perhaps this is the way of expunging him out of her life. No, not again. He can't endure that long agonizing torment. Not ever. "Huh?" He conveys.

"No. Anteros, you're overreacting." She comments. Her eyes flicker over to the creature on the right, balling its hands into fists. His eyes begin to glow in pure enmity and corruption. Subconsciously, Y/n snatches a step backward since he starts to advance over to her. The tension pent up in Vincent makes it difficult for her to be a few feet away from him.

"I'm overreactin? I'm a demon who's supposed ta not feel, so why do I have this heavy pain in ma heart? Why dae I sense myself crumblin' apart? Why's every time I see ye, I get this fluttery feelin' with ye? Why is it...thon ma parents' demise doesna hurt as much as yer resignin'? Tell me Y/n. You've been existin' with these emotions, indulge me whit and whit not am I feelin' in me?"

Vincent AKA Anteros is merely inches away from her countenance once she discovers herself backed up against the wall. His eyes are washed over with the despair accumulated in him, the hopelessness to be heard by his friend, and the yearning for her to stay with him is finally manifested in him.

"Anteros, I would never intentionally abandon you. I would never do that to my friend." She whispers. Her hands are placed upon his icy cheeks, distinguishing a faint wetness on his right side. The tenderness and longing she's concealed away produces the urgency to be well acknowledged of how his lips feel, again.

Suddenly something clicked within the demon after they shared a lovely moment. He positions his head away from her comforting grasp. "Y/n, we are not friends. That's the difference between me and ye. I dinna consider ye ma friend, anymore. Just go." He instructs her, stepping backward to permit her to leave on her own terms. His head lowers to the floor ashamed to gaze upon the human's baffled eyes.

"Anteros, you know I would stay if I had a chance—"

Vincent's attention jerks back upwards to his former friend's."Y/n, stop providin' me with the falsehood of what-ifs. Ye bein' here is merely smearin' salt into ma fresh wounds. You're such a tease, y'know. Ye proclaim yin (one) thing and dinna mean the other. I get it noo (now) you're just like every other human I've encountered. Noo. Go." He dismisses her, and his left-hand lifts up, rotating his wrist 90° inches in a swift motion with his fingers gradually bent into a loose fist.

Y/n strives to extend her palm out to touch his, she utters: "Ant—" She's insolently interjected by the mentioned demon.

"Go." He urges her, pivoting his head at her. His voice in the whole conversation was never once raised just for him to be heard. Nonetheless, the way he said the word resonates deeply within the young woman, petrifying her half to death by the deep and rich vocal register of Vincent. That didn't sound anything like the Scottish, soft-spoken man in front. The shadowy figure is right next to him, his body is partially emerging into Vincent.

His golden eyes emit this powerful radiant energy to the cold harshness to cause her to back down. His skin suddenly shifts into an unusual plum hue. This swift transformation creates the true distinct line between humans and demons. Although she doesn't see his authentic identity.

She immediately realizes he can turn into that humanoid monster anytime he wants to.