I am not used to having company in this room.

For a few seconds, the Hunter of Hearts and I fall to the floor, panting out of fear, completely shaken by the events that have just transpired. Outside, the Comet is still running rampant, but at least we should be safe, for now, in here.

“We should change back,” I finally say, after a few minutes have elapsed. The window rattles against another strong, gust of wind sent here by the Comet; I know that it cannot break, and that we are fine here, protected by the Universe, but it still unsettles me greatly to see it quiver.

“Yeah,” the Hunter of Hearts nods, hurriedly; he sounds out of breath. “Yeah…” he echoes. “Good call.”

Although neither of us mention it aloud, I am sure that he is just as scared as me, of accidentally falling into the floorboards in this form then becoming Comet food.

I grab the mirror that was still discarded across the ground nearby. It is bizarre to do this in front of another—turning back—I had never let anyone see before.

“Oh.” the Hunter of Hearts coos, seemingly fascinated as he observes me, he pounds a fist into his palm with enthusiasm. “So that’s how you do it!”

I glance at him from over my shoulder. I raise a brow. “Is it really that different from how you do it?” I squint at him, curious now, as I wonder what the differences in our transformations will be.

“Well—” The Hunter of Hearts chuckles. Instead of answering my question with words, he grasps at his staff, then opens up the lantern full of the firefly-like souls and memories he’s caught. At the bottom of the lantern, are a few glimpses of light that do not burn so bright anymore, it is as if they are slowly disappearing from this world.

He pinches one of them between his fingers, gently grabs it out of the lantern that he closes soon after, then brings the small, iridescent light close to his face.

I do not expect it, when the Hunter of Hearts parts his lips, and swallows the light.

And it is likely that I am terrible at hiding my astonishment for what I have just seen, for the Hunter of Hearts soon turns my way, then tells me with a shrug: “What? Can’t a man have his dinner in peace?” As he speaks, the fabric of the Universe pulls away from his body like a tide retreating back into the ocean. Contrary to me, he looks a tad different now that he is not merged with the Universe: it is not by a lot, but I’ve no doubt he definitely added a few inches to his height, and, perhaps, has given himself a more pronounced jawline, too.

“You’ve been taking liberties,” I mumble, as I cross my arms.

“I have!” he chuckles. He waves his hands around, in a rather comedic manner, as he mimes molding his body into something entirely different. New. “Good old fabric! It really lets you express yourself!”

Well, I suppose there’s nothing wrong with that, I think, as I laugh along with him. “More seriously though…” I clear my throat with a fist raised to my lips, and point at his staff, that is now rested against the wall. “That memory you just devoured…” I peer around the room, my nerves getting the best of me, until I find the courage to look him in the eye. “H-How—” I bite my lip. “How does that work, exactly?”

“Why?” he asks, as he walks up to me with his hands in his pockets, then leans in until his breaths ghost against mine, he licks his lips. “Do you want me to eat you, too?”

My face warms. “W-What! I-I-I—” Nothing but stutters and nonsensical words come out of me.

It is then, that he starts laughing. “I’m joking!” he waves the idea away, then points at his mouth. “It’s not really me who’s eating it when I’m in that form. I’m just giving it back to the Universe, because the light is sick and not doing too well.”

The Hunter of Hearts sticks out his tongue. “Think of me as an express delivery service for souls and the like! Also, I can see the face you’re making—but don’t worry,” he shakes his head, huffs, “it doesn’t hurt them. The Universe merely nurses them back to how they were before. After that, those memories are thrown back into the world. That’s why people suddenly recall old memories, sometimes, after so long! Fun,” he tilts his head, “isn’t it?”

“O-Oh.” I pause. I stare down at my feet. “I see…” So, that’s all there was to it, in the end… I let out a relieved sigh. I’m glad no one’s getting hurt. I look up again, our gazes meet once more. “You’re… very carefree.”

“Am I?” He scratches at the back of his head then snickers.

“I mean…”

We slowly walk towards the window in unison, to stare at the Comet who is still wreaking havoc on Paris.

“It feels like you don’t have a worry in the world, sometimes,” I mutter, without looking at him.

“Trust me, I was quite worried when that Comet was chasing us,” he provides, his tone has returned to a happy-go-lucky one yet again.

“Yeah, but,” I raise my hand and squeeze at my elbow, as I curl in on myself. Gods, how it is strange to be speaking with someone like this, in this form, after all these years. I nod at his staff, his lantern and the souls that are all gently swaying inside. “It’s like you don’t miss being one of them.”

This time, it’s his turn to stare at me in silence. There is bewilderment sewn into his features. I do not know what I have said to cause such a reaction, but I don’t doubt I’ll find out soon.

As if on cue, the Hunter of Hearts speaks up once more. “You remember your past?” he doesn’t seem like he’s joking.

To his question, I cannot help but frown. “You don’t?” I wait one second, before something else occurs to me. “Um, you at least remember your name, right?”

“Heck, Weaver, yes! Of course, I do!” He cringes, as he waves my idea away. “Jasper! It’s Jasper!” Jasper purses his lips together. He eyes me in silence for a few seconds. “And you, Weaver?”

“I…” I don’t know why I’m so nervous to tell him such a simple thing. Perhaps, because I’m afraid that this illusion of normalcy could break any minute now. “Stella,” I say, whilst I hold out my hand for him to shake. “It’s…” I avert my gaze. “Really nice to meet you, actually.”

Jasper briefly shakes my hand, however, he does not linger on the act for very long. He turns around until his back is facing me, before he stretches his arms to the ceiling. “That Comet’s going to give us a lot of catching up to do tomorrow, Weaver.” He takes a deep breath, then sighs. His hands fall back down to his sides.

Outside, day arrives. And as the sunlight pierces my window, it casts shadows onto his back. “I hope you’re ready to work twice as hard,” he tells me.

And although he cannot see it, I catch myself nodding. I grin. ”Of course, Hunter of Hearts.”