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My throat tightens. "As flattered as I am, I think you have the wrong person."
Sighing softly, he reaches for me again, his fingers tangling with mine. Why do they feel so good? Why is my body responding this way? I want him closer but at the same time I want to run away. Not because he scares me but because I'm scaring myself. This whole situation is bizarre and I feel like I'm trapped inside one of my books or the twilight zone.
"I promise you I don't. I'd know if I did. You wouldn't keep gravitating to me if you were."
"Huh?" I tilt my head, captivated by those mesmerizing eyes.
His face lights up in amusement. "Your hands are on my hips." He glances between us and I follow his gaze, taken aback. He's right. There my hands are, clutching him tightly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to… I don't know what's happening." I quickly pull back my hands, placing them in my pockets instead, hoping they stay put. If I was touching his hips without realizing it, who knows what I'll grab next. "How about you stay there and I stay here for now."
"If that's what you want."
Is it? Yesterday I was on a plane reading about a demon fucking a human into a desk, thinking how lucky he was and wishing it was me being split in two. Now that I have one standing in front of me with eyes darkening with desire, sporting a hard-on under an apron barely covering anything I… Yeah, I still want that.
"It's what I need. At least until I figure out what the hell is going on."
"Look, Albert, I know it's a lot to—"
Holding up my hands, I stand up straighter. "Okay, let's get one thing straight, I'm not nor have I ever been Albert. Do I look like him or something?"
He shakes his head. "No. That's the part I don't understand. Along with a few others. You look different but smell almost the same. Taste similar too."
I swallow the lump in my throat. "Wait. What do you mean by taste? Did you eat some of me while I was sleeping and I don't feel it yet? Is that why you have an apron on?" I give myself a once-over and relief settles in when I don't see any chunks missing.
His eyes crinkle in the corners. "No. I was making you breakfast. Well, us, since I need food too now."
"Then what did you mean?"
"Your blood. Your wounds needed to be cleaned."
My breaths stutter. "So you, what, used your tongue instead of alcohol wipes? Doesn't sound very sanitary if you ask me."
A laugh bubbles out of him. "It's not what… My saliva has healing properties. At least it did. I don't know if that was taken away from me too."
"Healing properties?" I hold my hand to my forehead, spinning around to lean over the counter. "I think I need to sit down or maybe dunk myself in a tub of ice water."
"You still think you're dreaming, don't you? At least you're not telling me to leave like before."
Tugging at my hair, I turn around to face him again. "For the last time, I'm not who you think I am. There was no before. I've never seen you until yesterday. Wait. Did you really come out from the floor?"
"Yeah. You woke me."
Thinking back to yesterday, I recall what he said when I asked what brought him here.
"The blood of the man my heart belongs to."
My tongue thickens in my mouth. "Are you some kind of vampire or something?"
"No. I'm a demon from hell."
"A demon from hell who likes blood?"
"I wouldn't say I like it. More of a requirement than a choice."
"Are you saying you're going to need more?" I gawk at him.
"Eventually, but I'm okay for now," he says all casually.
