"Are you nervous?"

"I don't think so," I blinked, trying to stand straight while Devin modified the dress shirt to slip properly around my wings.

He snorted, reaching his hand around my waist to pass the scissors off as he tugged the fabric on my back, "What does that mean?"

"Well, I know there's nothing anyone can do to me regardless of whether they can see me or not," I shrugged, "Due to that logic, I'm not nervous. However, I'm afraid that when I step outside, I actually will be, if just out of habit."

"Hm, alright," the man bent his knees to get a different angle from beneath the feathers.

"And I honestly don't think anyone will see me-"

"Pull," he interrupted to order.

I stretched my shoulders forward, "Just like only you and I saw Emma and them. There's probably others who would, but generally speaking, they were invisible. I imagine I'll be the same way."

Devin lifted himself to his feet and strolled to my front, "Try buttoning it up now."

Relaxing my posture, I did as he said, then stepped in a little circle whilst rotating my arms and extending my wings, "Feels good. Thanks."

"Of course," he smiled, "The holes aren't inconspicuous, but at least they're even. You look nice. Sort of a 'Good Guy Lucifer' type deal."

"Sure," I rolled my eyes with a chuckle, "I prefer comfort over fashion anyway. Bet you would have never guessed."

"Not until after inheriting your wardrobe. You may look good in anything, but I have to dress it up or else I look too ordinary," Devin's flirty mood dropped abruptly, "Not that these past months I've cared about anything like that."

I tilted so that our foreheads touched, "I'm sorry that it took so long."

"No, I'm sorry," he swallowed, "I should have tried harder to find you, I just-"

"Shh," I breathed, "So should have I. But we're here now. Please know it's the truth when I say no matter what it costs, I will always be with you."

A familiar ache panged my heart when I spoke those words. I couldn't help to be reminded of Tyler. It was true I had pledged my dedication to him, a promise corrupted by my inability to keep him safe and my own insecurities. Part of my soul remained troubled over what happened and yet, I knew it was Devin who I loved.

I had nearly abandoned him, pursuing a meaningless life in another realm while thinking that we were lost. With my first love, however, what else could I do? I had attempted so much, ruined so much trying to correct my sin.

What was left? Was I meant to search all eternity basically to apologize and break it off with someone who might have long realized our passion wasn't strong enough?

Regardless of no longer wishing for a life with the man, I wondered if moving on without finding a way to set things right was simply another moral mistake on my part. There were two sides to me now: the one that understood the useless gesture of clinging to the past and the one which fought with human emotion. How could I know what was the proper path?

"I know," Devin closed the inches between us to nuzzle me, instantly jumping to brighter topics, "Have you considered that there are actual paranormal investigators out there?"

"What?" the shift threw me off guard.

"I mean," he stepped out of the hug and began leading the way toward our den, "Not the ghost hunter reality show bullshit. The stuff that's in the movies with secret government organizations and such."

"Hey, I like that ghost hunter bullshit you're referring to," I jabbed the same moment he had reached the apartment door and turned around, "And no, not really. I always kinda thought the government wasn't smart enough to hide something like that if it did exist."

"Or maybe politicians are just too focused on their own wealth and image to care with funding the possibility of supernatural danger."

"Don't think that's politicians, but humans in general," my tone grew somewhat serious.

Devin cocked his head to the side, spine resting against the wood behind him, "Fair enough. Personally, my attention is on survival and enjoyment so I also wouldn't expend too much effort on anything too meaningful in that regard. Let the scientists worry about the bigger picture."

"A proper demon you are yourself," I chortled, "Are you ready?"

My boyfriend lifted himself to unblock our way, carefully walking out into the hallway and waiting for me to join. Taking a deep breath, I followed, glancing around the empty corridor as he locked the apartment again.

Down through the elevator and the lower level to the parking lot we traipsed, not coming across another being until our hands were on the car. This person presented themselves in the form of a phone call.

"Yo!" Devin answered the phone as we slipped into the vehicle.

I had become aware while opening the passenger side that there was a subtle resistance any time I interacted with a physical item. The only reason it had just caught up to me was due to how heavy the door, which had always hung loosely, was. My mind quickly recalled moving the clothes and utensils earlier.

It wasn't a detail that had worried me because of the unlikelihood of me actually needing to make use of these things. Another common human thought amongst believers was that there were rules which spirits were required to follow. This would explain why obvious occurrences to prove our existence were largely unheard of.

On the contrary, it was less about laws and more about convenience. In the same manner that humans tend to act civil in public despite being loudmouths, criminals, or even racists in private venues, spirits didn't draw unwanted or negative attention to themselves by making a scene. It was simply unnecessary and even dangerous.

Nonetheless, it appeared that my body reacted negatively to using objects in a foreign realm. Not just as a demon in the human plane either; it had also been so when I was a human in Hell.

Therefore, I gathered that to pull off too much movement that would be noticed as strange by others would require a tremendous amount of effort. As it was, I felt winded simply for getting inside the car.

"Yeah," Devin replied while slipping the device away from his ear to place on speaker, "I do feel a lot better than the last time we talked."

"That's good, that's good," Ames did not sound certain that his change was indeed a positive sign, "Did anything happen?"

He glanced hesitantly at me before suggesting, "Why don't you drop by? I think it would be easier to discuss in person."

This instantly struck me as creepy behavior. Despite having worked with us, I had been keenly aware of the woman's distrust. If Devin had been exhibiting patterns of depression to all of a sudden show happiness was in itself, often a bad indicator.

Those suffering from suicidal ideations are prone to entirely flipping their personality overnight once coming to a decision about finally killing themselves as the actual healing from damaged minds was a much more grueling process. To add to that, he had made a vague invitation for this woman to come to his home.

I shook my head doing my best to relay this information, but gave up and decided to speak instead, "Actually why don't you just tell her now."

There was an awkward silence, assuring my brain that Ames had heard me over the telephone. I had spoken loud enough for it to pick my voice up so even if it sounded different than my last incarnation, it was heard. However, I was wrong.

"Devin? Are you still there?" she asked.

"Y-yeah," he was equally confused, "Did- did you not hear me?"

"Not after you asked me to meet up with you. Just static. I thought maybe we got disconnected or you dropped your phone."

"Ah, yeah," he scratched the back of his head, "I'm actually headed out to get some food. If you're free, would you like to meet me at the steakhouse on the corner of Central Ave?"

"Sure," she sighed, "But not today. Are you available tomorrow for lunch?"

"Yeah, I'm free."

"See you then. Don't be late," she warned, undoubtedly meaning to thwart any possible suicidal plans.

"I won't. Looking forward to it," Devin made sure to sound as jovial as before, then quickly clicked the call to an end and put the cell in his pocket. With a curious look in my direction, he feigned awe, "Mysterious spiritual interference."

Belting into laughter, I scolded him for making fun of my previous hobbies, "Shut the fuck up and drive."

Since there was time to spare, we went to the park where my apprehension at last showed. If it had not been for the intensely uncomfortable ride having to cramp my broad body in the car, I wouldn't have hopped out as soon as I did.

There was a large group of children running around in a game of soccer while their parents watched from nearby benches in the direct vicinity. Instead of approaching them, I stood idly on the concrete next to where we parked and observed.

One or two heads turned in notice of us newcomers though the distance made it impossible to know whether they saw me in particular or simply Devin's arrival. In either case, their attention didn't stray long from their kids. I knew young ones would stand the greatest chance of having sight so I ventured closer.

"What happened to it being creepy for grown men to be around strange kids?" Devin poked half-seriously.

"I don't plan on stopping unless they see me," I explained, "There's a nice spot to rest on the other side; we're just passing through."

"Kind of hope they do so we can freak them out," my boyfriend clasped his hand around mine as we strolled, "Especially if their parents can't. Can you imagine how funny that would be?"

"Yeah, no," I grinned, "I just figured on telling them I was cosplaying. Besides, it's not likely the lot of them would notice and stop their game to address us. As well, if their whole group can see, it will also increase the likelihood that the parents can too."

"Kind of how I never saw spirits before hanging around you with so much activity going on?"

"Exactly," I squeezed his hand as we stepped into close view of the crowd.

We needn't acknowledge the fact that if he appeared speaking to an imaginary individual, that it would bring as poor attention as a man randomly in demon costume. As we trekked behind the benches, several adults glanced over. Their expressions were neither unordinarily concerned nor particularly interested. They simply looked momentarily before returning to their prior focus.

After we had passed and were out of ear shot, my companion complained, "That was anticlimactic. It also didn't really prove anything except that nobody gives a shit about a man and possibly Satan walking in the park."

Ignoring the joke, I took a seat on one of three large boulders situated by the pond that cut the area into two halves. Across the water were a handful of fishermen including a small family.

A little girl, perhaps seven years old, was bouncing around a man who was knelt stringing a hook onto a tiny rod and reel while another, older man was holding his own cane pole and trying to get her to be patient.

My presumption was that it was a grandfather and son teaching the youngest generation the art of fishing. I was distracted by the sweet scenario until a soccer ball flew into my field of vision, splashing into the pond before me.

"Hey!" Devin yelled at my side, spinning around toward the source of the throw, only softening when he realized it was just a stray shot from the game to our rear.

"Sorry!" a boy was running toward us.

He never stopped dashing. Certain that he was going to barrel straight into me, I tried to move, but he had gained too much ground. Rather than crash together, however, my form simply phased out so that he could reach the unintentionally discarded toy. He grabbed it, climbed back to shore, and with another short apology to Devin, rushed away.

The man inched to my side, gazing after the kid while reaching out to touch my chest. When his fingers tapped my shirt instead of falling through, he gave a more powerful series of pats, "As solid as ever."

Wrapping claws around my arms and giving slight squeezes up to my shoulders, I contemplated the situation, "You know, in Hell, the world was manipulated by the will of those who dwelt there, but only as far as they remained unaffected by the will of others."

"Two demons couldn't manipulate the same thing?" he surmised.

"Not at the same time and not if the previous demon's will was strong enough to negate their manipulation," I clarified, "So maybe since I want us to be able to touch, we can. But with that kid," my eyes were on those people again, "To him, I don't exist so in a way, his will is stronger. It keeps him in ignorance and therefore keeps me nonexistent."

"Believing is seeing kind of bullshit," Devin's tone was hollow as though he were quite deep in thought, "I guess if your mind isn't open to something, you'll never see it."

My brain became instantly studious, my eyes narrowing upon him to match. I recognized the voice he was using. It was the only time his various insults didn't sound playful or even angry, yet truly worth deeper concern. Despite how fast he had learned to tell me what was on his mind instead of concealing it, I always made my observation of his behavior clear.

"It's just something my therapists told me," he brushed it off.

"All of them?" my eyebrow arched, "And here I thought you were a good listener."

He laughed, nudging his cheek into my shoulder as he sat down next to me on the rock. After pausing for a few seconds to stare at the water where it had at last begun to still, he shared, "Everyone seems to think I never get anywhere in life because I don't believe in anything. I always told them that it's not that, it's just I don't understand why I should work my life away instead of being happy with simplicity."

"What did they say?"

"That there's a difference between being content with circumstance and settling by pretending to be apathetic."

One wing curled around him as I turned to plant a kiss atop his hair, "Did you ever have any dreams growing up?"

"Plenty," he sighed, "And they were always shot down. Either by my parents or by my sister who had so much more potential than me."

I thought about what he said before cursing, "Fuck them!" my abrupt shout made him retreat from my embrace to place a quizzical expression on me, "Your problem isn't that you never believed, it's that nobody believed in you."

I saw the hardened man, the 'always a rock and a friend' beside me break inside. His eyes were resisting letting the moisture welling in them to drop while his throat bobbed in a choke. As childish and cliche as our moment, his lips quivered and in all honesty he inquired, "Do you believe in me?"

Not wanting his fragile pride to suffer anymore than it already had by revealing this most basic desire, I answered simply with identical truth, "More than anything."