“Don’t finish that sentence. Don’t finish that train of thought. It’s not like that, it hasneverbeen like that.”
A pause.
And then another.
And then the seconds seemed to stretch between us, infinitesimally, lingering between those beats of silence. In the cracks between two people who were thinking the same thing butneither had the courage to say it out loud. For a long moment, we just stared at each other because the question, in its ambiguity, created more confusion than clarity.
The question asked a thousand things, and neither of us seemed willing to ask each other or ourselves. It said things like explain where you were. Explain last night. Explain what you meant when you said you didn’thateme. Explain why my pulse seems to ignite when you are near. Explain why you kissed my forehead and held me close, because I know that isn’t part of this treaty.
The images of blood on my hand and my clothes… The images of it pooling across the floor barrelled into my head again. “Did I kill him?” I spoke the words quickly and quietly as if that might stop me from speaking everything I feared into existence.
“No.”
“He looked dead,” I whimpered, stumbling over the words as tears continued to stream down my face.
Thallor’s hand moved slightly as if he wanted to wipe the tears from my cheek, but thought better of it. “I promise you, Sterling, he wasn’t dead.”
“Did you kill him?” I looked up at him, meeting his eye.
“I didn’tkillhim.”
“What did you do to him?”
I could see it then—the way the cogs whirred behind Thallor’s distant gaze. The whites in his eyes had disappeared, the usually bright red turning a deep burgundy. His jaw clenched as he looked down at me. This time, I didn’t see Thallor, but the monster underneath, and he was angry. Angry for me. Angry forus.“I… He…got what he deserved. Know that no one will ever know of him. No one will ever mention him again. I have wiped his existence from this world. His soul is where it belongs. Rotting in the deepest corners of Hell. He deserves everything that’s coming to him. Every ounce of suffering. He deserves it all for the rest of eternity for what he did to you. I made sure of that.”
“Thallor…” I said, but I didn’t move. I wasn’t scared. Not as I once was. I understood what he had done and why he needed to do it. But in that moment, it felt as though I hadn’t made that wish for me at all, butfor him.
“My brother takes a sick pleasure in tormenting the damned in a way that I have never understood. In fact, he would torture any soul he could get his hands on, deserving or not. Where I have struggled with my path in life, he has relished in the agony of every soul he meets. My brother is everything bad I see in myself–a true monster born from cruelty. I would never ask him for anything. I would never go to him for help. But for this, I didn't hesitate to make sure he understood that every ounce of pain he inflicted was nothing compared to the hell this man had earned. He's better off with my brother, where he will experience no mercy, no forgiveness, no reprieve.”
He spat the words. There had been many a time when I’d seen Thallor get angry. There had been many times when I questioned if the monster inside him would make an appearance, showing its face and reminding me just how terrifying he was, but it hadn't. Thallor made sure of that, well, he had until now. It wasn't the words I spoke that broke me from my stupor but the claws that jutted from the end of his fingers; the black, greying skin ran up his arm like tendrils of dark, wispy smoke.
He looked down at his hands and took one long, exasperated breath, and then another, and then another. It took a while, but eventually, the claws retracted on his skin and went back to normal. “I know it's not what you asked for, but I can rest easy knowing that I helped ensure this man's soul burns for everything that he did.”
Before I could say anything else, before I could close the gap between us, before I could tell him that I wasn't scared. Before I could tell him that I saw the monster inside him and did not cower from what I saw, but revelled in the beauty of everything that he was, Thallor stood up and walked out my front door, not stopping to turn around before he left my apartment.
The more Ithought about it, the more I realised that it happened right under my nose. In my self-assuredness and my steadfast belief that I didn't need another person to make me happy–in woven threads of red–Thallor tied himself to the deepest darkest parts of me. It happened slowly, in those disgruntled looks and endless eye rolls. In the gruff of displeasure and in the way he would stare for just a little too long. In the endless slices of strawberry jam on toast, in the gentle touches and the lingering kisses to my forehead. And then all at once it was as if he had become so ingrained in my life that I struggled to picture what it had been like without him.
I often wondered if demons had the ability to care. I often wondered if demons had the ability to love. But I'd known the answer to my question long before I realised. I supposed when I thought about it, it was obvious. Painfully obvious.Screaming-in-your-face-and-pointingobvious. I could see it in everything that he did, in the small things and the big ones too. In quiet actions like taking care of my plants or hanging out with my cat. In the way he'd roll his eyes before I asked about his book, but always answered anyway because he knew I enjoyed the company.
Something about him knowing me, something about the familiarity that had developed beneath my very nose, feltdisarming. I felt stripped bare, vulnerable as I tried to tread the water of uncharted territory that was letting someone else in. It was nice—inexplicably nice. And yet the whole thing felt so bittersweet because I knew I couldn't depend on that, I knew I couldn't allow myself to grow attached to his company.
Yes, there were moments, moments when I'd catch myself excited at the prospect of returning home to him, like I'd maybe miss something whilst being out. There were moments when I wanted nothing more than more mundanity, more ordinary, but with him. He had fit so perfectly well into my life that it was easy to forget he was simply biding his time until he could leave. I hadn't expected myself to crave the presence of another person, but I couldn't let my heart ruminate on the feelings that seemed to stir deep within my chest because I knew, deep down, that someone as otherworldly as him could never be mine.
I wasin the process of pouring oat milk into an unnecessarily large bowl ofFroot Loopswhen Thallor stalked back into my apartment. I'd had a quick shower before changing back into the same pyjamas I'd been wearing previously. It was just one of those days. My hair was wild and knotted, cascading down my back in chaotic wisps. After yesterday, after everything that happened, I couldn't help but feel comfortable in Thallor’s company.
“Hey,” I said as I looked up at him.
He closed the door behind him, took off his shoes, and walked into the kitchen, sitting at the breakfast table and sighing. He was wearing a black linen shirt with the highest buttonundone. It was oversized but still pulled slightly, seeming to hug his muscles and the curve of his arms. He wore jeans that fit a little too well, and the outfit starkly contrasted with what I had come to learn was his actual day-to-day attire the night of Halloween. I'd taken him shopping pretty early on in our arrangement, so it didn't look like I was walking around withCount Draculathe whole time.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, pulling another bowl from the cupboard before hearing his response, because Thallor’s usual answer to that question was‘I could eat,’something I distinctly heard him mutter before pouring him his own bowl.
I popped the bowl down in front of him and settled into my–now designated–seat before looking up at him. I still felt exhausted. Broken. And confused. But after spending the last few hours battling the chaos of my own emotions. I did feel lighter, at least. Looking at him as he inspected the bowl, I could see it, my greatest heartbreak developing before my very eyes, something I knew I wouldn’t survive if I let it go any further.
At that very moment, I resolved to close the door on any blossoming feelings I had for Thallor. Maybe that was cynical, maybe that was wrong. But my heart was as fragile as all the rest, as much as I wanted to pretend it wasn't. My cynicism didn't mean that my heart came with armour, no matter how much I wanted it to. Mine was capable of breaking. Mine was capable of falling apart.
What I wanted to do was forget. Forget the previous nights and everything that had happened. Forget the feelings in my chest, the feelings that seemed to ignite every time his leg brushed against mine under the table. And if I couldn't forget, if I couldn't push the thoughts from my mind, then I would do the next best thing, which was to distract myself.
I would distract myself with fun. Something that didn'trequire effort or attention. Something that allowed me to be someone else. The girl with the freeing laugh, the dazzling smile, and the warm disposition that could light up a room. I wanted all the shiny parts that I showed to the world without all the ugly, broken pieces underneath. I made a mental note to text Jude, the person who saw just that, all the good and none of the bad, because that's exactly what I wanted to be.
