Last night, the devil climbed into my bedroom, in the form of a boy. He offered me nothing but a hand and a smirk.

It was easy enough to take his hand and let him whisk me out. He brought me everywhere, under the dim glow of the streetlights.

He kept a cigarette in one hand and my hand in the other. The dark night sky spread above us as he took me to heaven and back. His lips felt like smoke and danger and passion against mine.

He brought me home at the crack of dawn, when everyone was barely awake. Leaving me with nothing but a wink and a promise, he vanished and never came back.

Maybe it was nothing, but a meaningless dream. But the vision of this handsome devil has never left my mind.