Daemonophobia; The Fear of Demons

"Ya know, this is the worst snow angel I've ever mad--AUGH!"

I tackle Danny into the snow, completely wrecking the snow angel. I roll off him , laughing as he spits out snow. He looks at me, propping himself up on his elbows.

"That's not a nice thing to do to your boyfriend." He looks at me, a smirk playing on his lips.

"P-HA!" I mock laugh, "I'll make it up to you later."

"Make it up to me now." He whispers.

I turn my head sharply to look at him, the snow melting into my hair. Danny is tracing lines in the snow in front of him. His eyes flicker to me and he shuffles closer to me.

I look up at him, our eyes flashing. He dips his forehead to touch mine, the warm clouds of our breath mingling in the chilly air. My spine prickles and I close my eyes. I can feel Danny's cold fingers trace my cheek softly.

"You are so beautiful." Danny whispers.

I open my eyes and he smirks. I smile and he kisses my cheek softly.

"Home?" he asks, and I nod.

We walk back and Danny intertwines our fingers. I'm deep in thought, wondering about what 'crisis' Mikey was talking about. I sigh deeply and the massive cloud of hot breath drifts right into Danny's face.

He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and raises his eyebrow. I look at him and try to look like the picture of innocence. Which doesn't work. At all.

Danny wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close. Then blows a huge breath cloud right in my face.

"Thanks." I say, scrunching up my nose.

He only chuckles and brushes my bangs out of my eyes. His cold fingers lingers on my cheek. I feel his lips press against mine before I register the fact that he moved.

A shiver goes down my spine, but some part of me thinks it's more from the cold. We pull away and I blink a few times, to clear my head.

Once we get back to my house, we stomp into the living room, shedding coats and scarves. Boots and snow soak socks are dumped by the door.

"Welcome back!" Luna shoats from her side of the couch as she watches T.V..

"Hello," Mikey smiles up from his book, "Hot water's in the kettle on the stove, if ya want tea or hot chocolate or --Thanks"

I interrupter Mikey by skipping over and ruffling his hair. As I move into the kitchen, I see Danny flop onto the couch between Luna and Mikey.

Once we'd all been watch 'Wheel Of Fortune" for a while, Luna twists her head and looks at me.

"School's back in tomorrow." She sighs

I nod, and scrunch my nose.

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Snow is everywhere. It sticks to everyone';s shoes and boots and melts, making the hallways a wet slippery dangerous path. If i slip one more time today, I think I'll wear spiked shoes the rest of winter.

I grumble to my self as I settle into the art room and wait for Emma. Ms. Moon has us working as partners still. The portraits still aren't finished.

One of the windows is open and a cool breeze shifts the snow gently on the sill and I brush my bangs out of my face and look around the room. I pull in a deep breath through my nose and let it puff out in a subtle white breath. There are no black smoke wisps, Nice. This has to be the first class I've had today without one.

The swing studio doors close with a loud whoosh and Emma comes into the room. She isn't looking at me, which is okay. Because I'm watching the demon. That black Butterfly is a nasty little thing.

Its red insect eye gleamed at me as it shuffles on her shoulder. I watch it as it flutters to the canvas, walking along the edge in a haze of black smoke.

"So. . . um . . How was your break, I guess?" Emma speaks, making my eyes snap to hers.

I forget that my hair is tucked behind my ear. My pale eye catches the light and shimmers Emma's reflection back at her.

Her eyes widen and I flick my eyes to the window, shaking my hair back in front of my face. When I turn my forest green eye back to her, she has a slightly panicked look in her face. Her eyes dart between my face to the edge of the canvas, where the Black wisp Butterfly shivers in it's own state of panic.

"My break was fine." I try, try to keep my tone even like nothing happened, "How was yours?"

For a second, I think she's about to snap. Scream and call me out as some sort of freak. Which might be right Instead, she simply goes to Ms. Moons desk and asks for the bathroom pass, which, since this is art class, is a large chunk of painted wood.

The loud swooshing sound accompanies her exit of the room. This leaves me tofreak out think. So panic ensues if someone sees their daemon when they aren't ready to see it. I look at the canvas, where the quaking Butterfly glares at me with a sort of accusatory gleam in its red frightened eye. So, daemons are affected by the emotions of their hosts. Host affects daemon, daemon affects host. Like any parasite/host couplet. . .

I shake my head and rub my temples. The whoosh of the doors, signals Emma's return. I look up at her, careful to keep my pale blue eye shrouded with black bangs this time. Even though she's purposely staring at it.

"My break was nice." She says, trying to aid me in returning to normal, "I finished a good book."

And it continues like that, as I sketch her we mumble to each other. My eyes flicker behind a veil of black hair and I watch the Butterfly in the corner of my eye. I think that when a Daemon is torn off by its own host, it's more painful. But, that can't be--

"Class, clean up and go to lunch!" Ms. Moon shoats, making more than one of us jump.

Oh no. Dread sticks at the heel of my shoe, knowing that Science is fast approaching.