Grey

Chapter 30

"Do you want to talk about it?" Grey asked softly as he sat next to me on the sofa. I stared absentmindedly through the windows in front of me, out at the peninsula where Grey had awoken my soul. Clouds were rolling in from the sea, thunderous and blue.

"What is there to talk about?" I mumbled, my lips moving at their own accord. I didn't want to think about it, much less talk about it. What was there to say? I'm a monster? I enjoyed killing? I belong in Hell?

"Jordan." He sighed. I turned to look at him. He never used my first name. His eyes were a cloudy grey, his brows knitted together tightly. It was strange to see him concerned. In a normal state, he reminds me of a marble statue- beautiful and unmoving. It was strange to see his perfect skin wrinkled and creased in concern for me.

"Grey, I don't want to talk about it." I turned back to the windows, watching the clouds rolling ever closer towards us.

"Stop it. Look at me," he placed his thumb under my chin and turned my face towards him. "You pitying the fact that you have a little bit of darkness inside you is ridiculous. I work for Lucifer. I literally have a deal with the devil. I work for the darkest entity that has ever existed. You hate your own darkness, but love it when it's someone else?" He scowled.

"This isn't about you, Grey," I rolled my eyes and tried to turn my head, but he stopped me again with his thumb.

"No. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I get that you're a little traumatized, everyone's first kill is a bit traumatizing. But thinking that it makes you a different person? It doesn't. You're you, Greene, regardless of how many Demons you kill," his scowl lessened a bit, but his eyes were still a cloudy, unreadable silver.

"You think that's what's bothering me? The fact that I killed Demons? No, that doesn't bother me. What bothers me-" I sucked in a deep breath and looked into Grey's eyes, "-is that I liked it."

I watched his eyes clear like clouds, revealing a blue sky. He sighed and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against his chest. I felt his lips against my forehead.

"I like it too," he said softly against my skin. "You feel powerful. It's addicting. I know. Believe me, I know."

"How do you know I won't go psycho and start killing everyone?" I frowned, pulling away from him and looking up at him.

"Do you think that killing an innocent would make you feel powerful?" Grey raised an eyebrow at me, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"No. I don't even know if I could do that," I replied.

"There you go. The reason you enjoyed that was because those Demons were trying to kill you. By killing them instead, you got to prove that they underestimated you. And that, I happen to know, is one of your favorite things," Grey sighed, leaning back against the sofa. Perhaps he was right. Maybe I wasn't as awful as I thought. But what was Grey's motivation? What made him enjoy killing demons? A little seed of worry planted itself in my heart as I turned to Grey, almost fearing his answer to the question I knew I had to ask.

"Why do you enjoy it, Grey?" I asked quietly, narrowing my eyes slightly.

"Relax, Greene. I may be a 'bad guy' but I'm not the 'bad guy'. For me, it's simple. Kill or be killed. But I'm not going to lie, I have beheaded a few- well, beings- for pissing me off," he replied nonchalantly.

"Beings?" I frowned.

"Demons. Angels. People," he explained coolly. Angels? People? He's destroyed the souls of those who are innately good, and the lives of people for pissing him off?