I had a drink at a bar with the devil's son..

"You're what?"

Harry took a step back from Delilah's face, stepping backwards until he began walking up another set of stairs.

The trace of Harry's lips against Delilah's ear made her shiver, and the way his lips left her cheek, bring his warm breath with it, now left her cheek cold—it was disappointing.

"This way to my floor." Harry ignored the question, clenching his jaw as he led Delilah to the large floor of the mansion that belonged to him, and him only.

They continued to walk up the winding steps, leaving Delilah speechless in her own thoughts.

"You're kidding, right?" Delilah breathed as she trailed behind Harry, obliviously confused.

"Kidding? About what?" Harry muttered as his long legs began a stride on the polished tiles once he reached what Delilah assumed to be 'his' floor.

"About you being the son of the fucking anti-christ?!" Delilah had no filter at this point. She didn't need one.

Harry snorted at her remark, although Delilah couldn't see it as his back faced her while they walked, she could hear it.

"What's so funny?" Delilah retorted, her voice annoyed at his cockiness in a situation like this.

She's in hell, for christ's sake.

Harry finally slowed his strides to stop in front of a grand double door, with the same theme as all throughout the mansion.

It was only when they stopped walking that Delilah finally took in the entirety of his hallway, in which it seemed to somehow be so elegant yet so simplistic at the same time.

It had beautifully decorated walls of ancient art along with inscriptions along side what seemed to be occasional musical notes embedded in the foundation.

"That's definitely not what you called me at the bar last night.." He smirked, turning slightly to catch a glance at her out of the corner of his eye before turning back to unlock his door.

Delilah froze in her stance as she heard Harry's words finalize in her mind.

How would he know—..?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Harry finally pushed his room doors open, and she was met with a grand room, yet simplistic just as Harry was.

He began walking in his room, tossing the key to his door on his desk across before turning on his desk lamp that illuminated the entire room.

Delilah's eyes wandered from his large, satiny bed with its wrinkled red covers. His bed frame was black, as seemed to be a reoccurring theme here.

She found her gaze take her to the corner where his desk was, then to see an assortment of guitars and instruments in the corner to be what she assumed Harry's.

There was also doors to what she assumed to lead to a bathroom and closet, but she wasn't sure unless she walked in.

There was a large window that was next to a door that led to a small balcony across the room, but she had no idea what Harry would even look at from there in the first place.

It was night, from was she could tell from the darkness out there.

She didn't see Harry's facial expressions as he watched her evaluate his room, somehow oddly intrigued with Delilah yet simultaneously irritated with the fact of her being his responsibility as of now.

"Could you please explain to me what the hell is going on?" Delilah finally spoke up for herself once her eyes landed on Harry's person again.

She was still confused as ever.

Why was she here?

Why did Harry lead her to his room?

Where exactly was she in hell?

Harry exhaled while pinching the bridge of his nose, the other hand rested on his hip.

"You really ask a lot of questions, don't you?"
He dryly chuckled before allowing his gaze to meet Delilah's again.

"I only asked one." She allowed her snark to match Harry's, and he smirked at that.

"It won't make any sense to you." He shrugged, running a hand through his hair before glancing a daring glare at Delilah, waiting for her next smart remark.

"I need answers." Delilah demanded, crossing her arms, "So, tell me what the hell I'm doing here, and what you're gonna do with me."

Harry smirked at her boldness, his eyes piercing her daggers of emerald green.

But then, Delilah found her breath hitch as she watched Harry move his hands—allowing his arms to swiftly begin to unbutton the rest of his already unbuttoned dress shirt.

Delilah found herself trying her hardest to prevent herself from staring, but she found it difficult to when he allowed his shirt to slip off his shoulders completely.

Is he really doing this?

Her cheeks grew hot as she saw that his chest was tone and chiseled.

He was nothing short of perfect, no surprise there.

He was a god.

Technically he wasn't, but physically, he put the gods to shame.

She noticed all the tattoos on his chest and torso, all seemingly random yet somehow work well together to put together the piece of art that was his body.

Is he really trying to seduce me right now?

Her eyes wandered to his lower half, his hands pushing down his jeans slow and low enough to see the fern leaves that seemed to point to—

"See something you like?" Harry whispered seductively, looking down at his body before looking up at Delilah through his eyelashes.

His words snapped Delilah back to reality, her eyes shooting up back to his emerald orbs.

"What? No." She crossed her arms again, falsely furrowing her eyebrows. "Is there a reason you took your shirt off?"

Harry simply grinned seductively, his fingers slowly trailing down his chest to meet his belt.

Without breaking eye content, his ringed fingers now began to undo his belt, sliding it out of his belt loops.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Delilah called out, holding her hands up to shield her eyes from seeing anything further. "What are you doing?"

"Undressing, what does it look like?" Harry smirked, with a matter-a-factly tone of voice.

"What? No, I'm not about to have sex with the offspring of Satan." Delilah snarked, her eyes still being shielded by her hands.

All she heard was Harry's abundant laugh, somehow still being able to make it sound as attractive as he was.

"What the hell are you talking about sweetheart?" He asked through his occasional snort.

Delilah realized that Harry was laughing at her.

Delilah scrunched her eyebrows, allowing herself to slowly peek through her fingers shielding her eyes to see Harry now in gray sweatpants but no shirt.

His sweatpants were worn really low, to the point where his fern tattoos still showed..

"I thought—.." She began to stutter. Something she did when she was flustered or embarrassed.

"You thought what?" He asked rhetorically, pressing his tongue to his cheek with a smirk.

He enjoyed riling Delilah up, to the point where she became to hotly flustered.

"That I was seducing you?" He whispered as took a step closer to Delilah as she stood at his doorframe.

Delilah swallowed thickly. She was really being challenged by the son of the devil right now.

Harry took her nervous silence as an answer.

He shorted cockily. "No offense, darling. But you really aren't my type."

"Sorry to disappoint, but I was just changing into my night wear." He added, although Delilah could sense his amusement. "You misunderstood me."

Delilah couldn't help but feel utterly embarrassed by her misconception. Her cheeks blushed the reddest of scarlet and Harry took relish in that.

But Delilah wasn't one to allow people their satisfaction. "Can you please just answer my question? Why the hell am I here?"

She placed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, allowing her lowcut shirt to be exposed.

She tried her hardest not to let her eyes wander Harry's bare chest.

"If you must know," Harry began, taking a breath as he took another step closer to Delilah. "I don't know. All I know, is that you have to stay in hell for a little while, and I must babysit you."

"You will stay here." Harry added, rolling his eyes at the thought of having yet another responsibility—turning around to walk across the room to fetch his room key.

Delilah took a bold step inside Harry's room, thinking that he meant she was going to stay in his room, only to here a hiss of disapproval.

"What do you think you're doing?" He glared as he walked back from his desk, walking forward to forcefully back Delilah up and out of his room into the hallway again.

"I thought-.."

"You think you're going to stay in my room?" He squinted his eyes, turning around to lock his doors behind him. "No."

Delilah looked up with irritation, crossing her arms once again.

"Your room is just down this hall." Harry softened, beginning to walk down the hall which prompted Delilah to follow him.

They passed several open rooms, some nicer than others with a dining area and a banquet area, and even a ballroom.

But there were the occasional locked doors, but there was one in particular that caught Delilah's eye—prompting her to stop in her tracks while Harry continued to walk ahead of her.

This one door matched the intricate carvings that Harry's door had, unlike the rest of the ordinary doors.

It seemed to have been closed for a long time, since there was no indication of it having been opened recently.

Delilah looked forward to see Harry finally stop at another door down the hall a couple feet down, using his key to attempt at unlocking it.

He didn't see that Delilah wasn't behind him anymore.

She made hesitant steps to the door that caught her eye, her hand subconsciously reaching up to trail her fingers against the beautiful carvings.

Her curiosity always did get the best of her, and her hand found itself trailing to meet the golden doorknob before she heard a bark of fury.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Harry snarled with pure anger, somehow appearing right at Delilah's side to roughly push her away from the door.

"I was just—.."

"You listen to me. You are never to open this door. Don't even look at it, don't ever go near it. If I ever see you over here even one more time, I will personally kill you a second time." Harry seethed with anger, his eyes turning a translucent shade of red.

His accent became more prominent and thick the angrier he got.

He's got a short temper, that's for sure.

Delilah found that she had stopped breathing until she finally took a gasp.

It was frightening. He was frightening.

Harry's breathing was heavy as his bare shoulder lifted with every breath through is flared nostrils, his fists clenched at his sides.

Harry's face was a close to Delilah's, she could practically feel the fury radiate off his body.

"Do you understand me?" He spat, his reddened eyes burning holes into Delilah's very soul.

Delilah couldn't find it within herself to muster up any coherent words, so she merely nodded quickly.

And with that, Harry waited for Delilah to walk ahead of him, his fists still clenched at his sides while she began to walk down the hall to where Harry was before.

Whatever was inside that room, it was important to Harry.

And Harry might've scared her at that moment, but Delilah's curiosity and determination was to be feared as well.

She was determined to find out what lied beyond the door, even if it meant angering the literal son of Satan.

~

Author's Note :

so, here we go! ohh a little bit of tension between these two.

what do you think is behind the door?

please, let me know what you think of this story so far!

there is SO much more to come!!

stay tuned ;)

xo..kay

.2009 words.