Because, in my dreams, the devil is my boyfriend.
Yeah. So, there's that.
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Last night, and pretty much every night, the devil picks me up in this car:
Because that's my favorite car, and I guess, that's just how the devil rolls. In a Dodge Challenger.
The other thing I should mention is that I enjoy his company. I enjoy it way too much, especially since I know who and what he is.
And then, there's the fact that I'm attracted to him, because this is what he looks like. (I blocked his face out, because he's kinda private.)
So, what does one do in the company of Lucifer? Last night we got ice cream. Apparently someone has a real sweet tooth.
I end up asking him, again, why exactly he comes to me in my dreams. Of course, he doesn't really tell me. Apparently my boyfriend is allergic to straight answers.
"You wouldn't believe me. You're convinced that I'm manipulating you in some way. Let's just say that I enjoy your company," he says with an irresistible grin on his face. Which makes me grin back at him, but I do my best to smother it under my hand.
"What should I even call you? Lu? Mephistopheles? Beelzebub?" He ends up laughing at all of these. "What do you want to call me?" I shrug, and let it go. For now.
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I'd like to be a note, the kind
You could sing but don't because you're shy
That way I live inside your throat
And hang from every word you...spoke
