FIFTEEN

                                    

                                          
Leaving Lucifer's office, a smile crept over his face and his nails twitched against the palm of his hand. The timing could not be more perfect. 
In all honesty, though his pride would never allow him to admit it, he hadn't entirely planned out his little deal with Irina. It had only come about the night before after hearing Lucifer's concerns. He wasn't sure what he was asking for in return or rather preferred not to admit it. 
Her scent seemed to follow him everywhere.
He couldn't escape its alluring grasp. 
It swarmed around him like a misty haze behind his eyes. Enveloping him in its cocoon of comfort.
It was so strong it smelled as though she had bathed in the aromas, dipping each of her limbs into a bath of sweetness. It trailed a winding path through the corridors, blossoming and flaring up in different spots where she hesitated for more than a moment. 
It set the tips of his taste buds on fire, sparking excitement every time he turned the corner.
"Little vixen and you don't even know it." He muttered to himself, unbuttoning the top of his red dress shirt. His skin was scorching under the fabric and every step ignited the itching fire more. 
The open doors of the library, allowed light from the glass ceiling to cast into the hallway. It wasn't much, but it was more than the dim torch lights that ignited along the path. Not that he minded the dark. Through the threshold, carried on a draft was that rich scent that drove him to imagine dangerous thoughts. 
She was inside and he couldn't help but take a peek on his way past. Something about her seeing him in a light that wasn't under his control disturbed him. If she were to see him, sneaking around and watching her, she would think something very different than what he intended. Not that he even knew what he intended. 
This last week had been one of the strangest times of his long and endless life. A world that constantly changed and evils that forced themselves into his life and still, a human girl confused him. 
Stepping into the library, he was completely encompassed by not only her scent but the silent rumbling of her mind and her personality. She was invasive even when she only existed in her own space. She somehow still made every thought running around his head go silent and turn to her. 
He found himself, wandering into the center of the massive room, standing a few feet away from her sleeping frame. 
Her long white hair was hanging over the edge of the couch, a pillow underneath her head, her one arm curled completely under the soft cushion. Little snores whistled from her nose, and her eyelids fluttered as she raced in her dreams.
On the coffee table in front of her sat a few books, neatly stacked on top of each other. Two he recognized being from his own private collection, and he had to suppress the growing annoyance that bubbled up, wanting to be vocalized. 
On the fluffy carpet underfoot, leaning against the couch was another one of his books. This one was much longer, in size, and meant to showcase paintings and photographs. 
"The Nephilim." He mumbled to himself, picking it up off the floor, the spine cracking in hand. 
She couldn't leave well enough alone and had to go exploring places she shouldn't be. While he wasn't sure how much she could read due to the spell cast over the library, there had to be enough inside the book to pique her interest. 
"Children of angels. Demons among men." His fingertip tapped the sharp edge of the old hardcover, "Mysteries, just like you." He spoke to himself, gently setting the book back down on the table.