He moves closer to me and I move farther away. He grimaces in annoyance and raises an eyebrow, points at my hand and I can only think how much I wish I was cold-blooded enough to be able to crack his head with the ease with which he smashed the bodies of those he thought were his companions. I try to draw strength from the humidity in the air, but the cold doesn’t let me concentrate.

“You should cover that,” he says, looking at my hand with his leaf-green eyes.

He sighs, as if the act of moving exhausts him, and walks over to where my glove is lying on the ground. With the tip of his pick he drags it to where it is, bends down to pick it up without taking his eyes off me.

“Stay away!” I try to speak properly, but I’m trembling.

I make an effort to stretch my mind to where the knife should be, to look for any drop of fresh blood. Absolutely nothing.

I approach him pretending to be much more sure of myself than I am, as I try to find a way to escape. I try to take off the glove that took me weeks to make, but he puts it in his pocket and looks at me with a half smile.

“What are they made of?” He asks instead, pointing to my hands as he pulls the edge of his shirt up to his mouth.

“If you touch me, I swear I’m going to…” I try my best to sound threatening. He laughs, as he cuts a piece of his shirt with his teeth.

“Why would I want to touch you?”He answers with the fabric still between his teeth, “I just saved your life, didn’t I?”

I cough at the sight of the blackish marks on his exposed abdomen, lines that seem to wrap around his skin coming out from his hips. Just before I avert my gaze I notice that, even lost in the semi-darkness, they seem to be moving. I try to run off again, but he cuts me off with his pick and a speed I wasn’t expecting.

“Weren’t faeries supposed to be cheerful and innocent?” I’ve never wanted to bite someone’s tongue out so badly before. I didn’t know they could be so grumpy.

“Leave me alone!” I throw a punch to his jaw and he receives it without flinching, then he takes my hand while smiling and begins to wrap the cloth around the wound.

Gradually the flash fades and we are left in the twilight.

I try to pull away again, but he grabs my arm with one of his hands. He looks into my eyes, as if trying to guess what I’m thinking. Something in his gaze screams at me that I’m missing something important, but my heart is pounding, probably because of everything I’ve just been through.

I see him, his eyes are sunken, and his hands are bigger than I expected. I move to take a step back, but he squeezes my wounded hand on the cloth, I bite my tongue to keep from screaming, just not to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s hurting me.

“Are you always so ungrateful when someone saves your life?” His voice is rough, like his skin.

Now that I have the cut covered and the lamps are once again the only source of light in the room, I notice that her eyes are glowing almost imperceptibly. The dark circles under his eyes are so pronounced that he looks as if he has no concept of rest.

“No one has ever saved my life before.” I answer without thinking, then clear my throat. “It’s not like I needed your help anyway.”My attempts to look scary are increasingly pathetic. I lean in, trying to grab the glove from his pocket, he squeezes harder and I yell.

“There’s always a first time for everything” He lets go of my arm and brings his free hand up to my face, pushes my hair aside and reaches over with a smile.

I am paralyzed, he continues to squeeze my hand tightly and pushes me into the shadow. Out of pure instinct I bite the inside of my mouth again and moan as I feel the wound I didn’t let heal, I have no intention of dying here, not here. He seems unfazed, examining my eyes and ears as if I were an exotic animal, I take advantage of his distraction to feel the edge of his pants.

“What the…” I start, barely opening my mouth.

“Did you hear that thing about walls having ears?” He asks in a whisper, I nod. The floor has them too.”He looks down and I try to do the same, but there’s nothing relevant in it. “Shut up for a moment.”

As he is talking I find the edge of his pocket, I slide my fingers inside and try to find the fabric of the glove he stole, I feel instead the silhouette of the bottle I had seen before. I look him in the eye and give him a bloody and bright smile, he shifts uncomfortably and looks away. I take the opportunity to step on him to divert his attention and manage to grab the vial just before he pushes me back. I stop before I lose my balance and recover it by standing up with the help of my blood. I concentrate the little strength I have left on filling my chest with air and the weight slowly stops working against me, I feel again the invisible thread pulling me up and I sigh, concentrating on my feet so I don’t lose balance again.

“What’s your fucking problem!?” He asks, trying not to raise his voice. The light silhouettes his profile as he leans down to check his foot, as if he had actually hurt it.

“They were with you, weren’t they?” I answer, taking advantage of the fact that we are separated again to step back. Why did you kill them?

“They’d figured out you were a faerie, idiot. What do you think they would have done to you?” He tilts his head, like creatures do when they try to hear danger.

His smile doesn’t reach his gaze, not quite. Despite his calm expression, I can see how his chest rises and falls rapidly and his fingers have not stopped trembling.

“And what makes you different?” Contrary to everything I thought might happen, he laughs.

“That I’m clearly smarter than them.” He chuckles, crossing his arms and winking at me, “It does me no good to kill a faerie when I can make her owe me a favor. Everyone knows there are two things you can’t do: lie and break contracts.”

I inhale and make sure the vial is hidden in my sleeve, I walk back a little further, but the wall stops me. My left fist is clenched and the patch of shirt full of blood, if I need it, I’ll make him attack it.

“So what do you want from me?” I ask, barely raising my voice.

“Then I’ll think of something, you can leave.” He turns around and waves me away, as if I were a tame animal.

“Excuse me?” I answer incredulously, he starts walking.

“When I need you to return the favor I’ll find you, that’s all.”

He acts as if he thinks he is superior, not only to me but to the rest of any creature around him, as if he was part of the aristocracy. Against my instincts I approach him, but he doesn’t even turn to look at me.

“It doesn’t even work that way,” I say, unable to believe the audacity of this perfect stranger to suddenly ignore me like that.

“I told you you can go.”

“Who do you think you are to leave me like this?” I ask and extend my wounded hand to him.

“Who are you to deserve my attention? I already saved you, is that not enough?” I take a handful of hair and pull it back.

He turns around so forcefully that he makes me lose my balance and I let out an unintentional scream. He squeezes my wrist and ends up near his face, with one of his feet he trips me and I grab the first thing in my reach trying to steady myself: his neck.

This time I don’t react as fast as I would like and gravity does its thing with my body, I end up falling to the ground and taking the asshole with me. He loses his balance and I feel the gravel threatening to pierce the fabric of my clothes, and tear my skin in the process.

‘No, I can’t keep bleeding.’

His breath is wet, warm. I love it.

Because I’m a fairy, of course, and we fairies like things warm and moist. I know there’s no reason beyond that.

I hold my breath just so I don’t have to inhale his oxygen, his eyes glow almost as bright as my blood when exposed to the air and they give him a terrifying, deadly look. He glares at me angrily, as if he knows he’s capable of crushing my wrist if he keeps squeezing it like that. Maybe that was his intention all along, to kill me with his bare hands, only to try to bathe in my blood.

‘Will he think it will turn him into something special? Or will he be one of those who are only satisfied when they harm a lesser being?’

“Free advice: don’t mess with someone who is clearly way stronger than you,” he snorts so close to my lips that I can almost feel the drops of saliva travel to the inside of my mouth. “Or are you a masochist?”

I freeze, I don’t know how to react and my head feels light. If I go on like this, I could faint at any moment and I don’t even want to imagine what would happen if that were to happen.

“Way stronger? Masochist?!” I answer, spitting droplets of blood that this time I decided not to turn acid. I let out a laugh that I hope makes me look more threatening than I feel, “If you think you’re so strong, why haven’t you stopped shaking?” I stare at his trembling fingers, barely perceptible in the violet light, brushing my arms against the fabric that was supposed to protect me.

“Do you want to do it now? Now will be then.” he growls through his teeth, looking at me as if he wants to tear me apart, “Say it, say you owe me a favor!”

The reddish locks tickle my cheeks, if at any second he thinks to drop his weight against me, I know he’ll crush me. I try to stir under him and start hyperventilating, I don’t know which way this situation is going, but it’s not right anymore. It’s not a game anymore. I feel tears flood my eyes and claustrophobia crushes me. I’m shaking and regret not having my blood hurt his skin when I spit on him. But I see his eyes and something in them makes me speechless.

He slides his hands up to my wrists and intertwines his fingers with mine, I feel the pressure threaten to re-open the wound. It hurts, it burns, and I can’t look away. He half-opens his lips and nods, and I mimic him.

“I don’t know you and I don’t care who you are,” he says in a firm voice, I feel a lump forming in my throat, “But you have magic running through your veins and I know it will come in handy.”

“Let me go,” I try to hit him with my forehead, he dodges me with the speed of reaction I had seen before.

“I saved your life and now I demand that you return the favor,” he speaks firmly and slips his fingers under the cloth covering the wound on my hand.

I bite my tongue to keep from screaming when I feel one of them pressing against it and as I pull it away I can see how it is glowing. He lets out an exhale as he brings his finger to one of my cheeks and my whole body collapses.

I don’t have to be looking at him to know what he’s doing, I feel him draw his signature on my skin with my own blood and the feeling of desperation of knowing that I’m bound no matter what, comes over me.

“In the name of The High Court of the Fairies, I sign this contract with the blood of one of their sisters” The glow in his eyes increases “With my name on your skin I decree that I understand what this union means” I try to stop breathing, but he only brings his lips closer to my ear “And I will pay the desired price, once my wishes are fulfilled. Is that clear?”

I don’t know if it’s worse the sweat, feeling the blood bubbling and knowing I can’t do anything, or that the lump in my throat is so big and rough that I feel like it’s cutting me from the inside. I shake my head and move more, but his grip is stronger than all my strength combined. The magic of the contract is stronger than all my desires to break free. I look around me, searching for help that I know will never come. The hole in my chest screams at me that I have only one way to get rid of the weight that is consuming me until it makes me want to disappear.

“Yes,” I answer in a breath, and I feel the tingle that lets me know that this is most likely the beginning of the end.