looked down into my eyes.
"Oh God," he said. "We can't do this. Not now." The mantra of moral men everywhere.
"We can," I said, surprised at the pleading in my own voice. It was the affection I felt for him speaking, not any agenda of Hell's. I wanted - needed - him to be closer to me.
He sighed. "Suzette, Suzette. I want to. But I want us to get married. I can't do this - can't do this to you - unless I know you'll be my wife. It isn't right otherwise."
I stared up at him, uncertainty interfering with my desire. "Are you...are you proposing to me?"
Luc thought about it for a moment and then grinned again, giving me another of those radiant smiles that never failed to make my heart race. "Yes. I guess I am. We'd have to wait a little bit - wait until I had more money. But when the war's over, things will get better."
This war's never going to be over, some gloomy part of me thought. But just now, that wasn't the real issue. His wanting to marry me was. It was impossible, of course. I could theoretically shape-shift so that I aged with him, all the while getting succubus sex on the side. Some succubi did that, having countless husbands over the centuries. Most didn't even stick around. They just disappeared. Their marital vows meant nothing.
Looking at him now, at that burning love in his eyes, I felt my heart torn in two. If I said yes, he would wrap me up again and make love to me. If I said no, he wouldn't - not out of spite, but because of what was honorable. This could be so easy. Say yes. Promise I'd marry him and take him now. I could fulfill my heart's longing, my body's longing, and keep my good standing with Hell. I could leave after we were married. Or, easier still, break off the engagement.
All I had to do was give him a dishonest "yes." Sex to him wasn't right without that. Really, it was a wonder he didn't insist on waiting until marriage. The commitment was apparently enough. He believed in me. He believed I was a good, honest person. If I said I loved him and would be true to him forever, then he would accept that. Just say yes.
But the words stuck in my throat. I couldn't lie to him. I couldn't let him find out how base I really was. And as his lingering life energy burned inside me, I realized I couldn't steal more from him. The guilt of what I'd done already was hitting me hard. It had only been the barest taste, but it had clipped time off of his life. And if I did back out of marriage after we'd had sex, he'd think what we'd done had been wrong. A sin. A black mark on his soul.
I slid out from under him and sat up. "No," I said. "I can't marry you."
His happy face remained unchanged. "It doesn't have to be now. And it doesn't even have to be...about this." He gestured to where I'd just been lying in the grass. "Like I said, we couldn't get married for a while anyway."
"No," I repeated, my heart sinking. "I can't...I can't marry you. Ever." I can't hurt you. I care about you too much. I can't take your light from the world.
He must have seen something in my face, something that drove home the truth of my words. That smile faded. The sun disappeared behind clouds. My heart broke. I hastily stood up, suddenly unable to look at him. What was wrong with me? I didn't know. All I knew was that I couldn't stay there. I couldn't stay there and see him hurting. If I did, I would start sobbing. As it was, I could feel tears starting to sting my eyes.
"Suzette, wait!"
I hurried away but soon heard him coming behind me. Even after my rejection, he didn't sound angry. He was concerned, worried about me. I hated that even more. I wish I'd driven him into a rage. But, no, even something like this...it would hurt him, yet he would respect both me and my choice.
Which was why I had to stay away from him. Not just now, but always. I knew now that I couldn't be around someone I cared about. I couldn't stand the thought of causing pain to a loved one. I couldn't stand the thought