"Couldn't agree more."
Amara jerked her head toward the sound.
There, leaning casually against the wall, was a man dressed in a black, body-hugging turtleneck that accentuated every curve of his perfectly sculpted chest. His shoulders were broad, his stance effortlessly commanding. Water still dripped from his hair, sliding down his sharp jawline like a slow-moving spark.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
His eyes, cold yet magnetic — flickered toward her, and a knowing smirk tugged at his lips.
"Didn't expect company," he said, his voice low, like velvet wrapped around danger.
Amara swallowed hard, torn between stepping back and staring longer. "Neither did I," she murmured, her pulse racing faster than the rain outside.
---
She couldn't clearly make out the man's face, but daayuuum… his body was a masterpiece. The way the wet fabric of his turtleneck clung to him made every contour of muscle, every ripple of strength, almost sinful to look at.
He smiled then, slow, deliberate, flashing his perfectly white, beautifully arranged teeth that seemed to glint even in the half-dark.
Her breath caught.
Did he just… hear that?
Because that smirk, that little twitch at the corner of his mouth, looked far too knowing.
Though the shadows cloaked most of his features, one thing pierced through the dark — his teeth.
Her eyes widened, heart skipping. "Hhhh—" she gasped, stumbling a step back. His canines… were long. Too long. Not humanly so. More like fangs glistening in the dim light.
A chill rippled down her spine.
This creature, whatever he was, was just too beautiful, too refined, too unnervingly perfect to be human.
He isn't human, her mind whispered.
And somehow, he heard that too.
Their eyes met — or at least she thought they did — and the air between them shifted, trembling like heat on a summer road. Something unseen pulsed there, an invisible barrier that hummed with quiet resistance.
When she took a hesitant step forward, the space between them stretched like elastic — no matter how much she moved, he didn't seem to draw any closer.
"What…?" she whispered, reaching out. Her fingertips brushed only empty air.
He frowned slightly, mirroring her confusion. When he tried to move closer, he felt it too, that same impossible distance. It was as if some unseen force refused to let them meet.
His jaw clenched. "What is this…" he muttered under his breath, frustration flickering across his flawless features.
Amara's pulse raced. "Who are you?"
His eyes, dark, endless, beautiful — locked on hers.
"That," he said quietly, "is what I'm trying to figure out myself."
The rain outside howled louder, wind rattling the broken window panes — but inside, time stood still. Two beings, drawn together by something neither could touch… nor understand.
Amara stepped through the door, closing it softly behind her. Her face was pale, as if she'd just encountered something otherworldly. Raymond, lounging on the couch, noticed her slow, almost hypnotic movements as she undressed, dropping her purse and shoes.
He rose and approached her, with concern etching his face. "Amara, are you okay?"
She met his gaze and nodded faintly. "Yeah, I'm fine… just stressed, I guess."
Raymond shook his head gently. "This isn't like your usual stress. Have you looked in the mirror? You look like you've seen a ghost, or been struck by lightning."
Amara let out a hollow laugh. "Funny…"
She then paused and asked, "Raymond, do you think the world is weird?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know," she replied. "Everything feels stranger each day. It doesn't feel normal anymore."
Chris, from the living room, chimed in, "Yo, sis, what's going on?"
Amara sighed. "There are things I've been keeping to myself, and it's eating me up. I'm not sure what to do anymore."
Raymond placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Just talk to us, Amara. We're here for you."
She nodded, grateful. "First, you should rest. Let me get you something to eat. It's late, and you need to recharge."
As she settled into her room, Raymond brought her a small meal and sat by her side. "How was your day?" He asked, giving her that warm reassuring smile that just has its way of calming a troubled soul…."Did you see anything unusual?"
Amara's voice trembled. "I…i..don't know what to believe anymore Raymond. Sometimes I feel like I'm not even on Earth." She gulped down the glass of water Raymond handed over to her, then silence followed. She looked up to meet his gaze and then asked…."Do you think demons exist? Are they walking among us?"
Raymond's eyes widened for a moment before he masked his surprise. "Mmh..mmh", He pretended to clear his voice ...."Well, according to belief, there are angels and demons among us, right?"
"True," Amara agreed, "but we never really see them right??"..."Hmmmm" Raymond replied with a light nod. "But I…I can't help but feel like I do…..and it freaks me out." She said, almost panicking. "There's something off about certain people, their aura, their presence."
"Hey girl, just shhhh, calm your nerves down." Raymond gently shushed her. "Just breathe. Rest okay? I'm here with you. If you need to talk, I'll be right here."
As he prepared to leave, Amara reached out and held his hand. "Raymond, why are you still here?" She asked, giving him a look of suspicion.
He turned back to her, the silence thick with unspoken words.
_ _ _
The night whispered through the half-open window, carrying the faint scent of wet earth from the earlier rain. Shadows stretched long across the room, painting Amara's pale face in uneven streaks of gold and gray from the flickering streetlight outside.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her damp hair clinging to her skin, eyes fixed on Raymond.
"Why are you here, Raymond?" Her voice trembled slightly. "You… you're hiding something, aren't you?"
Raymond didn't answer immediately. He just stood there, still in his black turtleneck, sweat dripping slowly from the ends of his hair onto the wooden floor. His broad shoulders were tense. Even the rise and fall of his chest looked deliberate—controlled.
Her words hung in the air like smoke.
For a moment, only the steady tick of the wall clock dared to speak.
Then finally, he sighed, taking a cautious step toward her.
"Amara," his voice softened, smooth but heavy with something unspoken, "you need to rest. Please. We'll talk… when the time is right."
Amara searched his face for a lie. The faint light caught the sharpness of his jaw, the tired depth in his eyes. "Don't tell me to rest. Do you think I can ever be calm? The way I encounter strange beings who disappear into thin air, voices I cannot unhear, feeling like I'm always being watched or worse,...followed, the way the memory of mom and dad's death keeps playing in my head…like..like ..aaargghh!!!"
"Enough," Raymond interrupted quietly, but his voice carried an edge that wasn't entirely human.
Her heart skipped.
For a brief second, his eyes flickered—amber, fiery, inhuman.
And just like that, it was gone.
She blinked, uncertain of what she saw. He forced a faint smile. "You're not going crazy, I promise. Just close your eyes… I'll be right here."
Amara hesitated, but exhaustion dragged her down. She curled into her blanket, and the room Then—
The curtains fluttered. Once. Twice.
The temperature dropped.
He turned sharply. A dark mist began forming near the door, swirling like ink dissolving in water. Out of that shadow, a silhouette emerged—massive, horned, glowing faintly red from within.
Raymond clenched his jaw.
"Ba-hal," he muttered, low. "Why are you here?."
The figure chuckled—a deep, vibrating sound that seemed to shake the air. "Nagato told me to meet you at midnight," the demon said, voice rich and mocking. "But I was nearby. Couldn't resist watching you play house."
"Keep your voice down," Raymond warned, glancing at the sleeping Amara. "You'll wake her."
Ba-hal smirked, the darkness melting away as his form shifted...tall, white-haired, his once monstrous features now eerily angelic.
But those eyes, sharp and knowing, burned like fire beneath frost.
He stepped closer, leaning slightly, his tone teasing yet grave.
"She dreams of the past, doesn't she? She doesn't even know it yet… but her blood remembers."
Raymond's hand twitched, heat rising beneath his skin. "Can you all just leave her alone?...what is it that you demons want her so badly for?...she's hurting…i…i…..even.."
Ba-hal smiled faintly, the kind that promised chaos. "You broke out ... .you're feeling her pain, Rai'ven ... .It's not supposed to be".
"I don't feel, I am a demon, remember?....I just have to keep masking it. Humans feel a lot and to her, I'm human like her." Raymond Snorted. "We both know that's a lie, brother. It's only a matter of time before she makes history repeat itself ".....
"What do you mean?..."
And then—just as quickly as he appeared, he was gone. The room was silent again, except for the faint hum of electricity and Amara's slow, steady breathing.
Raymond stood there, jaw tight, staring into the dark where Ba-hal had stood.
His fists clenched.
His eyes burned with fire barely contained.
He returned to Amara's side, crouching quietly beside her bed. The dim light cast gentle shadows across her sleeping face, and he gazed at her with a mixture of tenderness and resolve. Tempted to pull her hair to the back of her ear…
He whispered softly, "I promise, I'll protect you… even if it takes my life, I will." He paused, his voice thick with emotion. "It's a promise I made to your father… and in our world, we never break promises."
He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, the warmth of his promise lingering in the air. And then, with a final, quiet glance, he vanished into the shadows, leaving only the promise and the quiet of the night.