Or… at least… near her?
I shrug. Either way, my demon hasn’t been this calm in, well, ever. Since I started following her, my demon has been chill as heck. It’s miraculous. I haven’t even stolen anything since her bracelet, and I’ve only set a few fires, none of them destructive.
That’s progress, no doubt.
It was fun playing with her for a bit there, and I kind of want to do it again. I wonder who would win in a race?
I scoff as soon as the thought crosses my mind. Because she would,obviously. I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off her.
Lor turns off the main road ahead of me and I whoop at the change, thrilling in another off-road adventure. I push the throttle, skidding over the packed dirt road to follow her. When the terrain gets too rough, she pulls over and parks. I’ve been keeping a slight distance, but it’s closing quickly now that she’s not moving.
She takes her helmet off and tips her head back, shaking her hair out as she rakes a hand through it. Her silver locks flow down her back in shimmering waves and I nearly crash at the sight. I jerk the handlebars and regain my center of gravity, narrowly avoiding a far-too-personal encounter with the rocky path.
Lor ignores me, not so much as glancing my direction, and I’m grateful she didn’t notice my near catastrophe. She doesn’t wait, and I don’t expect, nor want, her to.
My mouth goes dry as I approach, pulling my bike up next to hers, although my gaze doesn’t leave her form. She’s already hiking away across a barren field, bordered by leafy green trees in the distance. I stagger off my bike, my boot catching on the seat as I try to hurry after her.
Lor walks for longer than I’d choose to, but this is her thing, and following is mine, so that’s what we do.
“I know you’re back there.” Lor’s sultry voice carries on the wind, and I grin at her back. I wonder if she knows how sexy she is.
“Pretend you don’t!” I cup my hands around my mouth and raise my voice so she can hear me.
Lor turns around, walking confidently backwards, and I huff a laugh at her doing the opposite of what I said.
“Why?” she asks.
“It helps my demon urges.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d say she stumbles a step, but I’m probably imagining the momentary loss of control. She tilts her head, takes another step back. Her eyes devour me, inspecting me as she continues taking deliberate steps backward. I have no idea how she knows where she’s going. Finally, she rolls her eyes and turns on her heel, picking her pace up again.
I’ve gained on her a bit during that strange walking-standoff, so I stop to enjoy the boring view for a few moments, turning away and letting her go on ahead again.
There’s a bright yellow flower near the toe of my boot. I bend down to look at it, about the size of a quarter with stocky leaves and a yellow center. I pinch the stem and snap the flower off, then straighten and tuck it behind my ear. A spot of blurry yellow lines the corner of my vision, a cheerful little reminder of our adventure and all the treasures we can find.
When I turn back and see Lor only a little ways on, it’s to her crouched down digging, filling up that cloth sack again.
I pat the flower to ensure it’s secure behind my ear, then stick my hands in my pockets and start whistling a jaunty little tune as I saunter up to her. She only glances my way once, her hands pausing as she narrows her eyes at me before she continues bagging her dirt. I stop only a couple feet in front of her, just out of reach of her shovel, but close enough that my shadow falls over her.
“You look good on your knees,” I purr, keeping my voice low. If the universe wants her to hear, she’ll hear.
Her eyes dart up to mine.
“What did you just say?”
I allow a slow smirk to curl my lips as I drop to a crouch.
“Maybe I prefer you onyourknees,” she mutters.
My demon leaps with joy, my heart beating a frantic rhythm in my chest.
“I’m not at all opposed to that,” I reply.
Lor glances at my mouth and I flick my tongue against my lip ring. Her lips pinch together, and I’m convinced it’s an attempt at restraint. I’ve caught her eyeing my lips and piercings before; it’s a common reaction. I tip my head, waiting for her to make her next move, but she doesn’t.
Instead of getting flustered, Lor ignores the rest of my attempts at flirting, and it only serves to rile up the demon inside me. Her movements get faster as she shovels dirt into the bag, spinning and stepping carefully to a couple other locations to repeat the process before she practically speed-walks in the direction of her bike.
Lor glances behind her to see me looking around, bemused by the disheveled landscape she’s left behind. Soon enough, though, I meet her wide eyes, and then I’m loping after her again.
