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"Hell is Empty. All the devils are here."

-William Shakespeare 

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The small cafe buzzes with life, a high pitched giggle comes from behind me and clashes of glass erupt from behind the counter. From the corner of my eye I watch the barista hand a tall man a cup of coffee, he looks familiar, but I can't quite place why because his back is to me.

Alexis was supposed to meet me fifteen minutes ago, part of me is worried, but she's also late to everything. I run my finger over the plastic lid of my cup, whilst a dark shadow engulfs the warm sun hitting my face.

"Ah princesa," danger sinks within the Spanish accent, as my gaze darts up to meet eyes just a shade above black. His eyes glitter, but not like sunlight or sparkles, like the way a knife shines beneath the moons rays-like risk and death all rolled into one. "I didn't think you could be any more magnificent, but it seems I've been proven wrong," I glance away.

Something about him is much darker in the daylight, like a black cloud hangs around his figure, and in the darkness it was consumed. Where shadows originally hid the devilish tint in his irises, and made the danger seem exciting rather then terrifying, the light changes everything. His smile is almost too sweet, with promises of secrets and all things bad lurking in his expression.

My stomach sits with dread, as I smile politely. I know the cost of secrets, I know how they can destroy and what they can do. His eyes narrow a fraction, before charm replaces his inquisition. I almost believe it's genuine, but that's what people like him are best at- making girls fall at their feet with a simple smile, with a simple phrase.

"What's a beautiful girl like you doing sitting alone? I find it hard to believe anybody would ever stand you up," When I was a little girl my Grams always told me to watch out for the boys with too much charisma for their own good. She said they always were the most trouble in the end, the ones that leave the biggest mark behind, and not in a good way. Julian's allure brings those words to life in a way I never thought I would experience.

The black coffee burns as it slides down my throat, it's bitter and gross, but somehow helps rid me of the desire for vodka. I glance at him over the rim of my cup, "I was supposed to meet a friend," he quirks an eyebrow. "She never showed, or at least hasn't yet," I further elaborate, adding the last part in a rush, hoping he'll get the hint, and leave.

He leans back in the booth, stretching his body out like he owns the place. "Well I guess her loss is my gain," He smiles vibrantly as if he just won the lottery, sending a chill crawling down my spine.

He hasn't done anything wrong, I remind myself, yet somehow I get the feeling he has. Not to me, but there's something off about him, something darker, something evil. My fear outweighs the curiosity that would normally cause me to do something stupid, this time I want to run, run far away from the Spanish boy sitting before me.

I try my best to be normal, but it's all an act and an act can always be seen through, no matter how good of an actress I may be. I relax my stiff posture, rolling my shoulders as I reposition myself in my seat. "How old are you anyways?" I question nonchalantly, guessing from his physique that he has to be at least twenty.

The suspicion in those dark eyes fades at the innocent question. "Twenty-three," He responds, his eyes running over my body like a snake slithers across the ground. A pleased smirk buys a spot on his lips. "And you? You seemed much older at the nightclub," I nibble on my bottom lip, debating whether or not I should tell him the truth.

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