Page 35 of A Hail From Hell: Vol 1

A laughable barrier.

A beat of tense silence stretched between them.

Then, unexpectedly, warm fingers wrapped around Evan’s bare ankle.

He held the foot right where it rested, firm against his body—like he wanted it there.

His eyes rose, slowly, deliberately, locking with Evan’s wide, terrified gaze.

And his lips twitched.

He fuckingsmiled.

Evan’s eyebrows drew together, fury overriding terror momentarily. “The fuck are you looking at?”

“You have gained much strength,” the red-clad figure whispered, voice thick, accent thicker, sounding like he’d escaped out of a Shakespearean play.

He bent slowly, lowering his face toward the foot he still held tenderly.

With a gasp, Evan tried to yank his feet back, but the iron grip around his ankle was unyielding.

“Let go of me, motherfucker!” As he tried and failed to crawl away from the human-looking ghost-pervert, warm lips grazed his instep.

A sudden rush of heat washed across the surface of his skin. Evan jolted to a stop, the struggle in his limbs dying.

Those warm lips ran along the side of his foot, then kissed his heel. The red-clad figure raised his foot higher and higher, mouth trailing around his ankle.

Stone-still against the wall, Evan stared wide-eyed as he reverently nuzzled his foot.

Some words fluttered past the figure’s lips, dissolving onto the surface of Evan’s skin, never reaching his ears.

His ears, which felt unbearably hot and tingly.

What is wrong with me? I can’t move my body.

“Little Storm…” the figure looked up from nuzzling Evan’s foot, eyes glowing bright scarlet again. As soon as their eyes met, something shifted in that pale, handsome face.

The lingering softness vanished, replaced by something unsettling. Uncontrolled.

A disaster held back by a thread.

Lights flickered in the room. The air churned with a dense energy that sat heavily on Evan's chest.

Without warning, the figure yanked on the foot he was holding.

Evan slid down the wall with a startled yelp, landing flat on the floor, only to be dragged toward the figure.

He moved between Evan’s legs in one fluid motion, pressing him down, pinning him to the cold floor with terrifying ease.

Blood rushed into Evan’s head.

He blinked rapidly as his thoughts tangled, his breaths unsteady. His chest heaved, the world spinning too fast, and then...a feeling assaulted him.

A strange sensation of deep-seated longing. Painful and tender and so familiar.

As if he'd been drifting, floating for a lifetime, and just now, he'd glimpsed the shore.

So close. Yet so far away.

---