Page 6 of The Devil

“Guess I’m just bored,” he eventually replies before taking another inhale.

With little else to go on, I smile momentarily, then begin walking through the garden again. He falls into following me around like a figurative and literal bad smell. I can’t help but feel a little intimidated in his presence, so find myself talking to cut through the awkward silence.

“Besides, the ‘help’ as you so eloquently put it, seems to think you treat him well,” I level with him, “so you can cut the act with me.”

Lucius gives me his trademark smirk, the one I bet a lot of girls think they can fix into something more genuine. I’m sure their efforts only end up with them being just as broken as his smile. He takes his time to respond. However, having two brothers, his procrastinating doesn’t faze me.

“It doesn’t mean I’ll treatyouwell. I rather enjoy my ‘act’ with certain people.”

He remains walking behind me, and I feel the long puff of his smoke float over the back of my neck, causing me to cough when the foul-smelling substance reaches my nose. Ignoring my spluttering, he continues in his quest to engage in this weird conversation with me.

“In answer to your original question, you’re a strange one, Carter, you act as though you were born into the wrong century; you’ve piqued my interest. I wonder how far I can push you before I have you dangling on a string like all the other girls around here.”

“Really?” I feign laughter to try and fend off the terrifying thought of him trying to seduce me. “Your life must be very dull if trying to coerce me into liking you is all you have for entertainment.”

“Trust me, it wouldn’t take much effort, Carter. I’m sure I wouldn’t bother if it weren’t for the fact that there aren’t a lot of other virgins around here your age. Perhaps I can help you to blend in where that area is concerned.”

“Oh, how cliché of you. A man lusting after me because my hymen is still intact.” He laughs with what sounds like genuine amusement, a sound that has me secretly smiling to myself too.

“Shall I go the whole way and call you ‘virgin’ from now on?” he teases.

“No, Lucius, my sexual experience or orientation shouldn’t be called out for all to hear, and if you have any decency about you, you will respect that.”

I hear his footsteps stop behind me for a moment or two, but I just keep walking onward, hoping he’ll tire of this conversation and leave me to it.

“You know, my mother used to call me something when I was little, she called me her topolino. It is the perfect name for you, Helena. Yes, my shy topolina.”

“What does it mean?” I enquire, trying to sound indifferent, but also grateful that he isn’t choosing to call me ‘virgin’.

“You will find out,” he begins when I turn to face him, to which he smiles.

His arrogance radiates from him, and unfortunately, it is the very thing that makes me finally see why a lot of girls are powerless to resist his lack of charm. He is achingly handsome, well-built, just like my brothers, tall and intoxicating to look at, but it is his condescension that makes him strangely and irritatingly irresistible. The perfect temptation you should resist at all costs.

“Orientation? Are you telling me you’re gay?” he asks, snapping me out of my dangerous thoughts. “I can respect any woman choosing one of their own over the opposite sex, particularly when the male of the species often lacks any kind of sophistication. Though, I have to admit, to learn that I have nothing that might excite you would be extremely disappointing. So…are you?”

“Maybe,” I reply with barely any breath left inside of me after hearing his admission. He notices, and it pleases him, so I turn around to continue walking.

He doesn’t respond, just keeps walking behind me. There is no urgency in his movements, and for a long while, we walk in silence, right up until I reach the end of the path and turn around to come back again. He blocks my way with his tall and imposing figure, making no attempt to move. I look right into his eyes, blue like the Caribbean Sea, before politely asking him to let me through. For a moment or two, I worry he’s not going to, that instead, he’s going to keep me under his gaze until I submit to his temptation. But then he stands to the side and gestures for me to walk past. He, in turn, falls back into following behind me again.

“Are you going to do this all afternoon?” I ask him coolly. “Because I have two brothers who annoy me constantly, so you won’t get a rise out of me.”

“I don’t know, haven’t decided yet,” he teases, and contrary to what I just said to him, he starts to make me feel hot with discomfort. “So, how come you, Topolina, are so much different from your cocky brothers?”

“Different?” I ask innocently and with a thick layer of confusion. “What makes you say that?”

I’m glad he can’t see the grin on my face because the differences between mine and my brothers’ attitudes in life would take all night to itemize out loud.

“Please, do not insult my intelligence, nor yours, we both know you are a complete contrast to them. Both your brothers ooze confidence; they positively rule in popular crowds and no doubt kiss their own reflection every morning. You, on the other hand, intentionally dress to cover yourself, wear little make-up, tie your hair back like some kind of middle-aged librarian, and hang out in country gardens. Anything to remain invisible to others.”

“Admittedly, hiding from others is my goal in life,” I admit without any hint of sadness or shame.

“Hmm, perhaps there’s a difference in bloodline between you and your brothers. Did mommy dearest play away from home?”

His suggestion makes me want to laugh out loud, but instead, I continue to show my indifference over his obvious attempts to get a rise out of me.

“Maybe.” I shrug with a smile on my face, for my siblings and I look too much alike to have different parents. My father is fairer than my mother, so my lighter complexion comes from him. However, apart from our slightly different skin tones, we very much resemble my mother, who is of Italian descent. I guess we have that in common, for Meri told me that Lucius’ mother was also from Italy.

“You know, I have to wonder, Lucius, does my indifference to the norms of what society deems I should be interested in bother you?” I suddenly round on him to ask while looking him in the eye. “In fact, do I make you uncomfortable generally? As you say, I’m not like Merial who describes you and your friends as ‘hot’, and I don’t foam at the mouth when one of you offers a smile or a moment of your time. Does it bother you that I’d rather read a book than attend one of your weekend parties? Parties where the attendees dry hump, or actually fuck for all I know, in the pool, donned in their branded bikinis that most likely cost a normal person’s weekly salary. Does it bother you that I choose not to smear crap all over my face in an attempt to attract a guy?”

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