The Angel and The Devil

Desire is an angel. Nessie is a devil. Neither of them fit where their supposed to. But when a chance encounter brings them together, they can't help but notice their similarities. Becoming best friends, they decide to switch titles- and lives. But the punishment if their discovered is as severe as it can get. Will they be able to keep their secret or will they be shunned by their families for the rest of their lives?


7. The Change

Desire's Point of View:

  I nod, starting to think Nessie wasn't as clueless as I thought, "Yeah, that was sort of the plan. And we don't need to worry about the contacts I mean, my eyes are sort of brown-ish green. Hazel almost. They'll work."

  "Most devils don't pay attention to details," Nessie says, agreeing almost. She picks up the hair dye, "Wow, you got my hair color almost exactly."

  "Really? I just eyeballed it," I look up to see what she means. And she's right. The hair color is almost exactly alike to hers. Mine is exactly alike to mine. This will work out. I show her the bucket of water I have to dye our hair with, "You're going to dye mine first."

  I hand her the box and she reads the instructions as I wet my hair. After a half an hour on mine, it comes out a perfect blonde. I smile at how close it is.

  "Now for yours," I say and she walks forward and pauses before she sticks her head in, "What?"

  "Is this okay?" Nessie looks back at me, "Are we supposed to be doing this?"

  "Probably not," I say looking at her, "You really are a good Dyvaol."

  "What did you just call me?" She looks back at me and I look at her.

  "A Dyvaol?" I say and she nods, "Oh, Dyvaol means devil in Russian. You better know that. My friend Lizzie will call you that all the time. Now wet your hair."

  Nessie dips her hair into the water and shivers when she pulls up, "It's freezing!"

 "Oh come on, it's not," I say as I hand her a towel to wrap around her shoulders. I dye her hair in thirty minutes. I smile at it once it's done, "Vola!"

  Nessie looks in the mirror and touches her hair as if it's something magical. I find it kind of funny. Then she looks up at me, "We need to switch clothes."

 "We look the same size," I say. We're both twigs, at least. We both strip down to our underclothes and I put on the red and black dress as she puts on my white one. I fix my hair like she had hers and she does the same. We look like different people. I look like her and she looks like me.

 I hug her really tight. This is all I've ever wanted. To be a true Dyvaol. I pick up her school bag and she picks up mine.

  I open the closet door, "Bye, angel."

  "Bye, Dyvaol," she says with a smile. I walk away. I go out the exit of the Dyvaol building. Everything is perfect, everything is right,

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