It is hard to put into words my first impression, so deeply shocked I was. Even now, as I think back on all those dangerous games we played, I can't exactly describe his face. It always eludes me and I only remember this or that detail that was revealed to me at some moment of our love. But I never see his whole face.

Sometimes it happens that you catch an image in the many-headed stream of human faces, and it baffles you for some reason. You still try to capture its fleeing shadow, but why exactly it has stuck in your memory you won't know. And all you have to do is greedily cherish it, while it slowly fades with time.

It was the same with Alistair.

I know now that slyness of appearance is inherent to all of us. I see it in the way this young mortal looks at me now, as eager and stubborn as I did then. He smiles confused and wants to pause, but I don't give him a break. I take his palm gently in my hands and play thoughtfully with his fingers, which tremble in anticipation. I notice that a nail on his little finger has bitten off a little. He is nervous and that excites me. I gently press my lips against that unevenly nibbled pearl. He falls silent and I feel his heartbeat quicken. I take my time, stretching this delicious pleasure, feeling the shiver born in this doomed creature. His hands smell of vanilla and nicotine…

Alistair's hands smelled of danger. Yes, it was his hands and his arms that struck me most the first time. Bare arms and eyes. I had never seen anyone exposing his body as much as it seemed to me at that moment. And I had never seen such dark eyes.

I sat opposite him in the spacious, padded cabin and stared at his shoulders in amazement. He seemed very handsome, and for the first time I was embarrassed. My own face was too lifeless compared to his volatile, liquid-flame-like features. He had all-black long hair, put up in a neat ponytail and mocking lips. He smiled, lightly, with one corner of his sensuous mouth, and leaned back in the seat.

‘What are you doing here alone?’ he asked, and I winced at the softness in his voice.

‘I'm waiting,’ I replied abruptly, and that was true.

I began to realise that he was the one I had been waiting for. He smiled even wider and winked at me.

‘Would you like to go for a ride with me?’

‘Oh, yes!’ I sighed, even more embarrassed.

He made a subtle gesture, and the car drove on. I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't care.

‘What is your name?’ he asked, leaning closer.

I wondered. I had never been asked that question before, and I suddenly realised I didn't know the answer. I was at my wit's end. He waited.

‘Vic,’ I lied, it was the first thing that came to my mind.

Just a name that meant nothing. And it was the first time I ever lied. I could see from his face that he was on to it. But he didn't reprimand me.

‘Okay, that's what I'll call you,’ he said simply. ’You can call me Alistair.’

I nodded. We drove in silence for a while. I looked into his eyes, and I felt a strange heat, a heat I had never known before. I didn't know I could get so hot. I couldn't stand it, averted my eyes and took off my jacket. He bent to me eagerly, and I felt his strange gaze on my body. I was scared for a moment. I lowered my head. Goosebumps, thousands of irritated tingles, crawled under my skin. Well, that was odd…

‘I get tingles from your eyes,’ I said in surprise.

‘Come sit next to me,’ he suggested.

After a brief hesitation, I slid over to him. I couldn't resist him even then, just as I can't refuse him now. I'm a bit pickier now, though. Alistair pulled me closer to him.

‘Do I scare you?’ he asked.

I shook my head, but admitted. ‘A little... What's with your arms?’

I gently touched the pattern that struck me, carved what seemed to be under his skin. They were snakes, dozens of black and gold snakes, intricately intertwined and stretching their bodies along his arm to the heavy bracelet on his wrist. I noticed that Alistair flinched slightly at my touch. He looked at me, and for a moment I saw a piercing, razor-sharp flash in his eyes. I know now how much he wanted me in that moment. His desires are no longer a mystery to me, and I asked myself how I hadn't felt it then.

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He softly pulled my hand away and grinned.

‘It's a tattoo. Have you never seen one before?’

‘No, never.’

‘You don't know much yet, do you?’ he said.

As he rummaged in the pockets of his black leather vest, he pulled out his cigarettes. I had seen cigarettes before. I knew what they smelled like - a little incense, a little spice. But Alistair's cigarettes smelt different. Their smoke irritated me and I coughed. He grinned again, reached under the seat and pulled out a bottle filled with something red.

‘Do you want some?’ he asked.

‘What is it?’

‘You'll like it,’ he filled a small glass with sweet-smelling ruby red liquid without asking again, and handed it to me.

I knew I shouldn't, but I took it and drank it with one gulp. The slightly bitter, spicy taste flowed through my mouth, through my veins and filled my body with an unexpected warmth. Alistair watched me closely.

‘That was just wine,’ he said. ’Won't hurt you, just warm you up.’

Well that was true. I suddenly felt light and almost cheerful. I felt the euphoria of thinking I had done something forbidden, and my movements became more relaxed. The alcohol slowly dissipated the tension that was holding me back.

‘More,’ I asked.

Alistair filled my glass again. He himself drank straight from the bottle. I watched with interest as he drank. Greedy and unashamed.

‘You are beautiful,’ I said as I drank my portion.

Alistair smiled and set the bottle aside.

‘So are you,’ he replied.

He beckoned me with his finger. I moved closer. He pulled the hairband off my head and cast a disdainful glance at the ornamentation. Then he opened the window without hesitation and threw it on the road. I got no chance to stop him. I was horrified because I knew I should not have lost it.

‘Why did you do that?’

‘It's ugly,’ he replied, pulling me by my neck and gently ruffling my hair. ’You're even more beautiful that way.’

I froze blissfully at this unexpected caress. No one had ever caressed me before. His fingers trailed along my blonde locks, and I felt his warm breath on my crown. He pulled me against him, and I nestled obediently against his shoulder. It felt good to feel his body against my bare skin, and I didn't want to know why.

‘Where are you going?’ I asked.

‘Saint Ferno,’ he said, kissing my forehead.

‘Where is that?’

‘It's far away from here.’

’Did you get your tattoo there?’

‘Yes,’ Alistair said, holding his lips in my hair.

‘Can you take me there?’

Alistair did not answer for a long time. I sensed he was thinking.

‘I can do that,’ he said carefully, ’but then you can't come back.’

‘Why not?’

‘I won't let you go...’

I backed away and looked at him intently. I remember how much I wanted to know the mystery of those lips. But I didn't dare.

‘Who are you?’ I asked instead.

‘It's better you don't know.’

‘Well... you're not someone I'm allowed to talk to, are you?’

‘Maybe. You've learned a lot about fear, but you're still a bad student. More wine?’

I nodded slowly and leaned back on his shoulder. I felt I was getting thirsty, and I didn't object when he gave me a drink from his hands. Something was happening to me. I felt heavier than I was and warmer than I had ever felt before. I lowered my head and watched as Alistair's fingers moved gently along my chest. I wanted to moan, as if I felt pain, but it wasn't pain - no.... He breathed against my temple, and his breath stroked my skin pleasantly.

‘It's late,’ he said. ’They will miss you.’

‘What are you doing to me, Alistair?’ I asked.

‘I like you, there is nothing wrong with wanting to touch you.’

‘I really have to go,’ I answered. ‘They will punish me if I am not back in time.’

‘I know, but I'll come get you tomorrow. Will you wait?’

He kissed my forehead again, and the car stopped. He helped me into my jacket and carefully buttoned it up to my chin.

‘What about Saint Ferno?’ I asked.

‘I'm not in too much of a hurry,’ he replied. ’I'll come for you tomorrow.’

I was a little dizzy from the drink, and his image was blurred in my eyes. I remembered he was serious.

‘Go, Vic,’ he said and opened the door.

I climbed out of the warmth of the red interior back into the dull dampness and walked away. Without looking back. The bitter smell of his cigarettes hovered over me for a while, and the car drove away. It was dark and I don't remember where I was going. And I don't remember what was waiting for me there, behind the hazy wall of fog.

Now I have the courage to admit that I was reckless. Too bold and reckless for a child of heaven. And I could not refuse the next meeting. Also because I didn't see Alistair as evil. We met five more times on that strange road after that, and each encounter is worth being told apart. Everything that happened is forever etched in my memory, and I think that's why I started forgetting the past. The sixth time, he took me into the abyss. The attachment to that number has become a habit of mine. I like to repeat the experience of then, and each time I rediscover something of Alistair's motives.

Like him, I am drawn to danger. Like a cursed man, I am doomed to replay the scenario forced on me by him again and again, knowing that I will never get enough. Greed has become my nature. The desire for death became my entertainment. How many times have I already killed myself? How many times do I have to do it before I have had enough?

Maybe that's why I don't age, maybe that's why I don't get tired....