She believed I was different from the first day we met.

On my side, though, our first conversation was utterly unmemorable. Even when I try, I remember none of it. I go through the whole rigamarole every time, hammering out the details, ensuring they understand the caveats. It was another day at work, stealing souls, breaking hearts, nothing to stand out. Only her demand.

"Be my friend," she ordered when we got to the part for her to make her wish, hand thrust out with innocent confidence. I took it, bemused, and thus our contract was sealed. She wasn’t the first mortal to bind herself to me, but she was the first to ask so few questions. Not the youngest of my victims, but not far from it.

“You understand I’m very busy, I won’t be able to tag along after you at all times.”

“I know.” She scoffed, glaring up at me as though I were an idiot. “I have a life too, you know. I’ll meet you at the mall after school tomorrow.”

So this was going to be one of *those* deals. Well, I’d had worse.

But despite my fears, all she wanted was someone to talk to. Every few weeks, she’d schedule a meeting, and we’d walk and talk. Mostly her doing the talking, but she did ask an occasional question.

“How long have you been at your job?”

“This particular one?” I smiled down at her, an affectation I knew irritated her. “About three months now.”

“You consider me a job?”

“Of course. You are my master.” Blatantly false, but mortals do like to think they’re in charge.

“I don’t want a slave, I want a friend.”

It was around then that I started paying more attention.

“I’m leaving him,” she declared, her stride quick and decisive. “You’re right, it makes no sense to continue in a holding pattern waiting indefinitely for something to change.”

Ten years into our ‘friendship’ and she was still full of self-assurance. Still called me up every month or two for a chat.

“Where will you go?”

She flung her arms wide, raising her face to the rain. “I don’t care.” Then her expression transforms, frustration melting to slyness as she smiles and turns to me. “I could move in with you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“My realm is not one for—“

“Ssssh,” she put a finger to her lips. “I don’t accept excuses. Every single one of my friends has let me crash at their place. You’re not fulfilling your duty.”

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“It hasn’t been cleaned lately,” I protested, a feeble excuse even if truthful. The last time I tidied was… probably around 1530, when I ditched the whole ‘roman temple’ setup. Since then, I’ve been pretty busy.

“I’m coming home with you.”

Her soul would be mine in the end, and all I needed to do in the meantime was continue playing along, so I shrugged. A second contract, as it turned out, and one I did not realize at the time had been made.

"You know what they say about monsters."

She never left. Another decade later, and she was still bumming around in my empty cathedral, keeping it as neat and well-appointed as it ever could be. As if we needed to be ready to receive visitors at a moment’s notice. As if we didn’t live in a swamp in the middle of nowhere, visited by no one but stray alligators. She often starts our discussions with such non sequiturs. I’ve grown accustomed to it.

"I know the official story, yes."

"So you know that you don’t fit the definition.”

“You really should be afraid of me.”

“I’m not.”

And she truly wasn’t. So many mortals, they grow to hate me over the years. They regret their bargains, try to recant their wishes, try to take back what they sold. But she’s different.

“Kill anyone interesting today?” she asks, blithely, as I return home after a particularly long night. She’d been living with me around fifty years now, but still refuses to even pretend to understand my nature.

“I’m not a murderer,” I say, for the eight thousand, three hundred seventy-fourth time.

“Sure you aren’t. Kiss?”

I don’t oblige, backing away. “You know I destroy anything I touch.”

She scoffs. “As if that ever stopped me.” As if to defy reality itself, she takes my fiery hands in her own with a brief squeeze, gripping tightly to be sure I can feel it.

I wrench my hands away. “You have to stop doing that. Once was bad enough, but this is… six times this month?”

“Never.”

“You are pushing boundaries that are not meant to be touched.”

She raises her arms to the sides. “I’m still whole.”

“Not for long, if you keep it up.”

“Long enough.” She steps closer, her smile warm and full of mischief. “You’ve given me so much. Why won’t you let me give something back?”

“We have our agreement. Your payment will be quite sufficient.”

“Oh, that old thing.” Her eyes sparkle with glee. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“I don’t particularly care about secrets. I’ve known more than enough and they always boil down to insignificance.”

She leans closer and whispers, “I love you.”

I stare at her, trying to figure out how in the world she could have possibly believed this was a secret.

Her voice is playful as she continues on. “Nothing to say? I’ve shocked you to your icy core?”

“The only shocking thing about it is that you somehow imagined that I didn’t figure it out seventy years ago.”

“Forget the past. This is the present.”

I stare down at her, unsure of what’s come over her. “Something’s been different lately.”

“Ah, so you’re not as oblivious as you pretend. Good to know.”

“I’m not pretending anything…”

“Psh, no need for deception.”

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“You didn’t ask one.”

I sigh, more a growl really. “What’s different?”

“I’m done.”

“You’re… done?”

“Yup! Life mission accomplished, no need to stick around any longer.”

I frown at her. “What about your work?”

“Done.”

“The library?”

“Dealt with.”

“The shelter?”

“It’s in good hands.”

I stare at her, confused.

“I am done,” she whispers. “You wanted my soul, now is the time. Take it.”

“Um.” I step back, uncomfortable. “That’s not how this works. No one ever gives me their soul ahead of schedule. That’s not a thing that happens. They always cling on, grasping for one more minute, one more day, screaming against inevitability. You don’t just—“

She shakes her head, cutting me off. “You’ve always known I was different,” she whispers, and in that moment I realize it’s true. “It’s time. Let me end it on my terms.”

She steps forward, and this time when she leans up to kiss me, I don’t back away. I meet her lips with mine, catch her breath as my heat suffuses her. Her eyes widen, but instead of backing away she steps closer, right up against me, pressing her body against mine, arms clinging tight around my neck.

I wrap my arms around her, feeling the moment her mortal shell dissolves and her soul drifts free, and then there is no barrier between us at all.

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