If you saw the title of this post, then you already know who I'm crushing on this week (but really, it's more like the past few months...)
Actually, I'm pretty sure female bloggers across the world are in love with him....
And if you don't yet know who DAEMON BLACK is, then ohmygoodness let me enlighten you on his amazingness....
- Daemon is perhaps the strongest luxen on Earth--luxen= alien light being
- is the oldest of triplets (Dawson and Dee)
- really loves his family
- takes on a protector-like role among the luxens in town
- "His stomach was ripped. Perfect. Totally touchable. Not the kind of stomach I expected on a seventeen-year-old boy, which is how old I suspected he was, but yeah, I wasn't complaining. I also wan't talking. And I was staring. My gaze finally traveling north again, I noted thick, sooty lashes fanning the tips of his high cheeks and hiding the color of his eyes as he looked down at me. I needed to know what color his eyes were."
- "His voice was deep and firm. The kind of voice accustomed to people listening and obeying without question. His lashes lifted, revealing eyes so green and brilliant they couldn't be real. They were an intense emerald color that stood out in vibrant contrast against his tan skin."
- sexy and arrogant and brooding and hilarious.... but he's also got a totally swoon-worthy, melt-worthy sweet side!
- has a certain weakness for a girl named Kat--who he loves to call "Kitten" and poke with his pen
“Beautiful face. Beautiful body. Horrible attitude. It was the holy trinity of hot boys.”
-Kat while meeting Daemon
“My palms itched to have a close encounter of the bitch-slap kind with his face.”
-Kat while talking with Daemon
“Thanks,” I muttered and added under my breath, “Douchebag.”
He laughed, deep and throaty. “Now that’s not very ladylike, Kittycat.”
I whipped around. “Don’t ever call me that,” I snapped.
“It’s better than calling someone a douchebag, isn’t it?” He pushed out the door. “This has been a stimulating visit. I’ll cherish it for a long time to come.”
Okay. That was it. “You know, you’re right. How wrong of me to call you a douchebag. Because a douchebag is too nice of a word for you,” I said, smiling sweetly. “You’re a dickhead.”
“A dickhead?” he repeated. “How charming.”
I flipped him off.
“You’re such an ass. Has…anyone ever told you that?”
He flashed a genuinely amused smile. “Oh, Kitten, every single day of my blessed life.”
For a moment, I pretended. Not that we weren't two different species, because I didn't see him that way, but that we actually liked each other.
And then he shifted and rolled. I was on my back, and he was still on the move. His face burrowed into the space between my neck and shoulder, nuzzling. Sweet baby Jesus...Warm breath danced over my skin, sending shivers down my body. His arm was heavy against my stomach, his leg between mine, pushing up and up. Scorched air fled my lungs.
Daemon murmured in a language I couldn't understand. Whatever it was, it sounded beautiful and soft. Magical. Unearthly.
I could've woken him up but for some reason I didn't. The thrill of him touching me was far stronger than anything else.
His hand was on the edge of the borrowed shirt, his long fingers on the strip of exposed flesh between the hem on the shirt and the band of the worn pajama bottoms. And his hand inched up under the shirt, across my stomach, where it dipped slightly. My pulse went into cardiac territory. The tips of his fingers brushed my ribs. His body moved, his knee pressed against me.
Daemon stilled. No one moved. The clock on the wall ticked.
And I cringed.”
“I've always found that the most beautiful people, truly beautiful inside and out, are the ones who are quietly unaware of their effect." His eyes searched mine intently, and for a moment we stood there toe to toe. "The ones who throw their beauty around, waste what they have? Their beauty is only passing. It's just a shell hiding nothing but shadows and emptiness.
And now for some excerpts in Daemon's POV
But no matter where I went, what I was running from would still be with me—Kat. She wasn’t just back in the house, in that bed. She was with me now, inside me. And there was no outrunning that.
"You're perfect for me," I whispered in my own language"
And then I saw Simon’s jock-douchebag friends head toward the door and I knew that meant Kat was here. Leaning back in my chair, I casually looked over my shoulder.
(From the Homecoming Scene)
Something unexpected happened to my chest. It felt like someone had walked right up to me and socked me in it. I might have stopped breathing. Right there, surrounded by humans, in front of still yapping Andrew.
“Oh Mary, mother of baby Jesus,” I muttered.
Kat stood by the door, her hands clasped around a tiny clutch as her eyes bounced around the gymnasium nervously. The dress… aw man, that dress should be illegal. Tight around the bodice and waist, then flowing over her hips like a river of crimson silk. Her hair was up, revealing a long, graceful neck I didn’t know she had.
Red was my favorite color.
Kat wasn’t cute. She wasn’t even sexy. She was beautiful—absolutely breathtakingly beautiful.
Le SWOOOOON. Daemon Black, you are too much.
And OHMYGOODNESS does anyone NOT think Pepe Toth when they think of Daemon? He and Sztella are the cutest couple ever!
Yes... I *might* be a tad obsessed with them... and shamelessely stalk them on facebook.... but not in like a creepy way or anything...