Celeste
I think I finally understand what it means to wake up with your heart out of place.
I don't know how long I sat on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped around my knees, trying to convince myself that everything I lived through—or dreamed I lived through—was nothing more than a fabrication of my mind.
But the truth is, my body doesn't believe that.
My soul even less.
I can still feel the warmth on my skin where he touched me.
I can still taste him on my lips—soft, unexpected, almost sweet, like sunflower oil gathered at dawn.
And when I breathe deeply, the air seems to carry his scent.
Lavender. Incense. Light.
No one has ever looked at me that way.
No one has ever touched me like that.
No one has ever spoken my name with such… reverence.
I feel foolish even thinking it, yet there is something inside me—something I awakened without meaning to—that whispers incessantly:
You saw him.
And he saw you.
I step out of the cabin slowly, afraid that any sudden movement might cause the dream to dissolve completely. The grass is damp, the surrounding mountains seem larger than yesterday, as if they are watching my steps. The lake glimmers in silvery tones, calm and serene… like his eyes.
I close my eyes and see him again.
The light enveloping our bodies.
His touch on my face.
The warmth that traveled through every part of me.
And the kiss… that impossible-to-forget kiss.
Every dream I've had since childhood—of a love that would come from somewhere distant, impossible, unattainable—has taken shape. A face. A voice. A body. A light.
And that frightens me.
Because no matter how hard I try to be rational, no matter how many times I repeat that none of this makes sense—that angels do not fall in love, that divine beings do not touch mortals—my heart insists.
And today, it insists even more.
Something is wrong with me.
Or right.
I can't tell.
Because from the moment I woke, I've felt this invisible thread in my chest. A gentle, constant vibration, as if someone were calling to me without words. As if a name were echoing inside me, even if I can't hear it.
Lucifer.
My entire body reacts when I think of his name.
Not with fear—never with fear—but with a strange sense of belonging.
As if I've known him for a very long time.
As if he were part of me, even though he never was.
My fingers touch my lips again.
They're sensitive, as if the kiss were still happening.
And the memory leaves me breathless.
Because in the moment his light enveloped me… I didn't run.
I tried—I swear I tried—but some greater, older, deeper force would not let me.
And in place of fear, I felt something else.
Welcome.
Safety.
Desire.
Not of the body—or not only that—but a desire of the soul.
As if something within me had recognized something within him.
And that is the most frightening thing of all.
I sit by the lake and let my fingers glide through the icy water. A shiver runs up my spine, but it isn't because of the cold. It's because I feel it… I feel that he is awake. That he is somewhere, in some other world, thinking of me.
And the more I dwell on it, the stronger the call vibrates within my chest.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
"This is madness, Celeste… you're losing your mind…"
But then I remember the warmth of his hand over my heart.
The way his light merged with mine.
The way he spoke my name as if it were sacred.
And I realize that perhaps… perhaps none of this is madness.
Perhaps it is destiny.
I open my eyes. The sky is brighter, the wind warmer, as if something were drawing near. Or someone.
My heart races.
"Lucifer…"
The name escapes before I can stop it.
And the call within me answers.
I feel him.
He is coming.
And for the first time in my life, I don't know whether I should run…
or wait for him.