“You’re sure?”
“Positive,” the doctor replied, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat “is this not something you wanted?”
My eyes flicked to hers, they were sad and questioning, how many times had she had to have this conversation? How many people had come in here hoping and praying that it wasn’t true only to have it confirmed?
“It wasn’t the plan no,” I replied, deflated...terrified.
“We can talk about your options if this isn’t-”
Her mouth kept moving but the words never reached me, the events of that night replaying in my head, the music had been so loud…
The music seemed to pump through my veins as if it were giving me life. The smoke and lights that filled the place made it seem like I was in the clouds during a storm, only truly able to see what lurked beyond the clouds when the strobe flashed.
“Abbey! Have a drink!” Richelle called over the heartbeat of bass pressing a drink into my hand. This whole night was happening because of her. I was totally prepared to spend the night in our sharehouse, studying or watching the latest episode of whatever trash Nick was watching on Netflix, but Richelle had insisted we go out, had even lent me one of her clubbing dresses. It hugged my thin frame, leading me to wonder how on earth it fit her full curved body, she was at least three if not four dress sizes bigger than me and always looked flawless.
I knocked my large tiki cup against hers and took a mouthful of whatever cocktail was inside, my face puckering at the assault of alcohol. I didn’t drink often but I was too polite to not accept a drink bought for me by a friend, or a few.
Before I knew it I was 4 or 5 drinks in and dancing with Richelle and Nick on the dancefloor, another thing I never did, but there was something about this night that made me want to do something different, be different. I was always so serious, about my studies, my shitty job, my money, I needed to let loose —to relax. Why stop at the dance floor? My eyes met with someone across the dancefloor. I closed my eyes as Nick spun me and told myself if they were still looking I’d go over and speak to them, but they beat me to it.
When I opened my eyes I was longer in the arms of my friend but the arms of the stranger, their brown eyes flickering red in the lights of the nightclub. We danced for a few moments more, their hands raking up my body as I swayed against them to the rhythm of the music, before we retired to an alcove. I slid into the booth, breathing heavy and slick with sweat.
“I’ll grab us some water.” said the deepest voice I’d ever heard, so deep it gave me goosebumps. I simply nodded and watched them leave. They were tall, elegantly slim, their midlength black hair gelled back from their pale face. They returned quickly with two glasses of water and smiled as they passed one to me and sat down. I thanked them and they asked what I did I told them I was a history major and the conversation spiralled from there. They also studied history but went to a different university to me, also worked a shitty job, but what Uni student didn’t? They preferred being home but something about tonight had called them out. Maybe it was me, I shook away the thought as I got lost in their eyes, the sparkle that seemed to appear as they spoke of something they were particularly passionate about, the way the corners of their mouth quirked up when I mentioned something they also liked, the way they took a sip of water every time the strap of my dress slipped off my shoulder as if they were distracting themself from reaching forward and moving it back up.
We stayed there talking until the club was closing, my housemates had let me know when they were leaving and checked that I was ok, introducing themselves to Luce before leaving, insisting that I text them when I left the club. Luce had laughed and promised they’d have me home at a reasonable time.
“Luce.” I’d said after they’d left.
“Abigail.” “Just Abbey.” “Abbey.” They’d repeated with a grin that sent shivers through my body.
The bar manager finally had to kick us out when he wanted to lock the place up for the night. I texted both Nick and Richelle to say that I was catching an Uber and would be home soon.
“Don’t catch an Uber.” Luce said, taking a step toward me and reaching for my hand “They’re not safe, let me take you home.” they nodded their head toward a motorcycle parked by the curb. I almost laughed at them.
“An uber is a lot safer than a motorbike.” I scoffed.
They grinned “But you know me. I have a spare helmet.”
I considered it for a moment; get in a car with a stranger or get on a motorbike with a less unknown stranger.
“All right then,” I said, letting them lead me to the bike and pass me the spare helmet. I placed it on my head and let them fit the strap under my chin, keeping the blush from my face as their cool fingers brushed my cheek. I gave them my address and off we went, shooting into the night with a roar of the engine. I clung to Luce’s middle, pressed my face into their back as fear and excitement filled me, I felt them chuckle at the desperation in my grip. It became a battle in my ears over what was louder, the engine of the motorcycle or the beating of my heart, both were bordering on excruciating, but I couldn’t ignore the thrill that filled me as we flew around the first corner. It was as if I were on a roller coaster, I wanted to raise my arms in the air and enjoy every moment but I also wanted to live.
Just as quickly as it had started the bike stopped, the engine went quiet and Luce moved to get off the bike and laughed when I didn’t let go.
“Are you ok?” They asked with their deep depthless voice.
“I’m fine,” I said a little shakily, eliciting another rumbling laugh.
“We can stay here a moment, I’m in no rush.” They said, leaning back into my arms.
I bit my lip considering my next move. It had been a while since I’d been with anyone, years to be completely honest. Probably since my first time. I hadn’t been in love, or even in a relationship, I was just curious.
“Do...do you want to come inside?” My heart was pounding in my chest, right by their ear, I was certain they could hear it.
A smile spread across their face, “Definitely.”
Our touches fast and desperate to begin with, we barely made it through the front door, into the house, to my bedroom. I would apologise to my housemates in the morning for the noise, the broken picture frames from the wall, the vase in the hall, Luce tasted like bourbon and cigarettes. Despite their slim physique, Luce was strong, strong enough to lift me, pin me to the wall and lick up the side of my neck, a passing cars brake lights reflecting in their eyes turning them red. This was more than curious, I wanted this, needed this. I used my upper body to push off the wall and force them backward until they collapsed onto the bed with me on top. I undid the buttons on their shirt, kissing down their thin delicately muscled torso as I went until I reached the waistband of their pants, eliciting a deep moan that almost sounded more like a growl. I moved back up to their face, kissing their lips and tasting sweet bourbon again as I undid the button on their pants. They reached down and pulled my dress over my head leaving me in only my underwear.
And then things slowed, touches became more delicate and sensual, our kisses deeper but softer. The mood changed from a one night stand to more. I felt as if I knew Luce as if I’d always known them. There were moments, in the throes of passion and ecstasy when I could have sworn Luce had horns or elongated canines but as quickly as they came, they were gone. I put it down to my fathers’ strict religious beliefs that he’d instilled in me as a child that I’d grown out of once I’d learnt the corrupt histories of religion. I thought that perhaps the alcohol had bought it all back to the forefront of my mind on a night I was finally letting loose.
I fell asleep not long after a wave of sweet release, Luce gently tracing symbols on my back, some I recognised others were foreign to me, they must have been further along in their degree than me.
When I woke the next morning Luce was gone, the bed beside me cold, but on my bedside table sat a hot coffee and a single rose. I smiled at the gesture and checked my phone to see if they’d added their number. They hadn’t. I cursed myself for not getting it out of them at the club. I sat up and drank the coffee, it was perfectly made and exactly how I liked it, one and a bit sugars with just the tiniest dash of milk. Had we talked about coffee? I shrugged, we must have. I thought about the night before and how much fun I’d had, I hoped to do it more.
I leant back against my headboard and hissed as pain laced down my back. Confused I got out of bed and walked to the shared bathroom, we were very open housemates, I’d waxed Richelle, she’d waxed me and we’d all walked in on each other in the shower, it would surprise no one to see me stroll to the bathroom naked at 9 am on a Saturday. I twisted in front of the small vanity mirror, rising up on my tiptoes to get a better look. My breath hitched in my throat and my heart pounded in my ears. My back was red raw, symbols, some I recognised, others I didn’t, had been etched into my back. Ancient symbols, dark symbols. I wanted to look away but couldn’t seem to take my eyes off the overlapping lines of red skin.
“Admiring Luce’s handiwork?” Nick commented as he walked into the bathroom. My eyes met his and his face fell as he saw the terror within them, his stare flicked to the mirror, “What the fuck did they do to you?”
The words were my undoing. I fell to the floor as he called Richelle into the bathroom. Tears fell in a steady stream down my face as they inspected my back and talked of hunting down my one night stand, of going to the police, but I couldn’t.
“That sick fuck.” Richelle had said after I’d told her of the coffee and the rose Luce had left on my bedside table.
“I hope you’re not pregnant to that psycho,” Nick said weeks later as I threw up in the toilet.
“It’s going to be ok,” They said to me in unison as we sat together on the couch staring at the positive pregnancy test.
“But I took the morning after pill,” I said to the ashy faced doctor, not having listened to a word she’d been saying.
“Unfortunately if it’s not taken in the first 72 hours after intercourse it can fail.” She said delicately.
“I took it the day of.” I said as I reached back and scratched the scars that still laced my back, two months after that night.
“It’s rare but it can fail, what brand did you take? I can look into it if you’d like to make a complaint. Otherwise, there is the option of abortion.”
My eyes darted back to the doctors, they were brown, like Luce’s though not as dark. Abortion. The word seemed to echo through my head. My father would never forgive me if he ever found out and part of me felt that I would never forgive myself.
“I’m going to keep it,” I said.
I left the appointment shaken and piled with pamphlets on going through pregnancy solo and everything I needed to know about the baby’s development. I shoved it all into my bag and stepped out onto the street, taking a deep breath of the cool autumn air and regretted it as nausea hit me. I reached back into my bag and pulled out a plain cracker, placing it into my mouth as I made to cross the road.
I paused.
Ahead of me, hidden in the alley was Luce.
They held a bouquet of Daffodils and wore the same black on black outfit as the night we’d met, their hair was gelled back from their face, horns protruded from their forehead pointing toward the sky, and as they smiled I saw their pointed canines.
“Luce.” I said as I came to stop before them.
“Lucifer.” They corrected, their eyes flashing red.