I pointedly ignored his warning and climbed up the rest of the steps. I stopped outside the door, hesitating to open it, and easily recognized Jonathan’s voice in the muffled moans that reached me. Slowly, like a child that knows she’s doing something wrong, I turned the handle and let it open only enough to see inside and, for a split second, I didn’t know what I was seeing, at least until all the pieces got put together in my brain. I covered my lips with one hand, hiding my shocked exclamation, and yet was unable to turn away.

Alexander was sitting on the bed, Jonathan on his lap, turning to him, almost as if they were a pair of lovers. I could easily see the naked skin of his back, marred by all those cruel red lines. The strength with which he held on to Alexander, his arms wrapped around his neck, made me blush. Alexander seemed to be kissing his bare chest, his dark-red hair completely disheveled, as if I really stood before some passionate scene. It took me some time to notice the small dagger stained with blood he held in one of his hands and I held my breath when I saw him raising it. Carefully, and with a deep expression of pain, I watched as he cut one of the red lines across Jonathan’s chest and, when he placed his lips over the recently opened wound, I thought I’d already intruded too much in that space that clearly only belonged to the two of them.

I went back downstairs, careful to be as silent as possible, and went to the living room, feeling slighted depressed. How often would they have to go through that to keep Jonathan alive?

I stopped by the door and, in just a split second, all my previous thoughts and cares evaporated. Gabriel had undressed his shirt and was unwrapping his bloodied bandages, the ones that I’d put in place just last night.

“What are you doing!?” I finally managed to ask, hoping I sounded angry enough, and he raised his head to face me.

“Lea told me you did this,” he calmly observed.

“And why does that matter? You shouldn’t even be walking around!” I remarked, half despairing before his puzzled expression. I’d been so worried about Jonathan’s problems that I’d completely forgotten about just how serious his injury was. Once again my life was like a war zone, constantly bombed by every side, as my mind struggled to deal with everything at the same time.

“It was nothing serious,” he replied, unconcerned, which irked me more than it should.

Nothing serious! How was he able to say something like that to my face! I still hadn’t been able to erase the image of all that blood from my mind, of his mortally pale face as he mumbled delirious words no one had been able to understand. For a moment, last night, I really believed he wouldn’t survive! And I was positive that any Human Being in his place had been dead somewhere before dawn.

Before I could argue, or scold him any further, the bandages were in a pile on the floor. I watched as he also got rid of the gauze, looking down at his own chest with a curious expression. He pressed his own red skin along the suture, making me cringe, and nodded appreciatively.

“Almost good.”

I just couldn’t stop staring at him. In truth, although his skin was still stained with blood, the black stitches standing out like a sore thumb, the huge gash seemed completely healed. The ease with which he pressured it and touched it was proof enough of that. And on his chest, over the place where his heart should beat, I couldn’t help notice the deformed red blotch, which the symbol of our Contract had become. I thought it had been gone forever and, knowing it was still there, even deformed as it was, strangely made me feel more at ease.

“These things are itchy,” he complained, ferociously scratching the stitches and I almost jumped.

“Stop that!” I blurted out and was even more surprised when he obeyed, looking at me inquisitively.

“Then what? Will I have to have these things on me forever?” He sounded annoyed again and I realized he hadn’t the slightest idea of what surgical stitches were.

“The things Lea got for me. Where are they?”

“I put them in there,” he replied, pointing to a cupboard and I entered the room, going around the table in order to keep the distance between us. I got hold of my magically acquired utensils, filled the aluminum basin with distilled water and grabbed the rest of the cotton pads, along with the scissors, tweezers and, just in case, the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Sit there.” I pointed the chair on the other side of the table and he stared back at me for a brief moment, before obeying once again, his steps ever so slow and carefully measured while he blatantly kept an eye on me, probably expecting some kind of panicky reaction.

Trying to stop my hands from shaking so much, and grabbing the things I’d gathered, I told myself there was no reason why I shouldn’t be able to do this! After all, I’d practically spent the whole night beside him. I had taken care of him and I had been close enough to touch him ... even to hug him. And so I stepped determinedly towards him. My heart immediately jumped to a frenzy, the trembling of my hands taking over the rest of my body. I stopped for a moment, making sure I kept breathing, and checked all the things I’d gathered, afraid I’d end up dropping something.

“Mariane.” His voice broke through my uneasiness, slightly calming me down, and I looked up at him. “You don’t need to do this.”

I frowned, annoyed at his condescending tone, and took another step, and then another, in his direction. With a victorious feeling I finally sat down in front of him, although I couldn’t stop shaking, and smiled proudly at his expression of disbelief.

“Close enough?” I asked with a smug smile. “How did you think I managed to stitch you up?” I went on, my voice still shaky, no matter how much I tried to make it sound strong and decided. Awkwardly enough I couldn’t help noticing how his eyes looked even brighter, intimidating and intense from up close, and so I focused my attention on the task at hand. “Please stay still, now.”

I drenched a cotton pad in distilled water and leaned forward. I softly pressed my shaky hand against his skin, cleaning the dried blood, a prickling feeling coursing from the tips of my fingers up to my elbow, almost as if the air around him was charged with electricity. And yet, this was not an impossible task to accomplish, I mused with a strange feeling of happiness. He kept completely motionless all through the process, so much so that I was having difficulties noticing if he was still breathing at all.

As I cleaned his skin, the state of his injury became clearer. All that was left from the vicious gash that had cut him from side to side was the dark, irregular line formed by the stitches. No swelling, no redness, or even purple areas. His skin was as white and perfect as it had always been.

“The black lines must be first cut and then pulled carefully,” I told him, trying hard to resist the temptation of placing my hands flat on his chest. Seeing him so up close made me wonder if he was as hard and cold as he seemed. “But it’s best if I’m not the one to do it.” I pulled away under the pretext of closing the bottle of distilled water. My hands were suffering from the destructive effects of his proximity and my whole body was shaking, even though I was trying my best to keep it under control. Trying to perform such a delicate task that involved a pair of scissors and cutting so close to someone’s body was surly not the best of ideas.

“I don’t mind,” I heard him whisper and raised my head. He smiled, making me dizzy for a moment, and then closed his violet eyes, returning to that statue state of his. “I promised I won’t move an inch.”

I blinked, still dazed. I’d never been so close to him while keeping such a clear state of mind and, while that made me feel all proud and self-reassured, it also made me aware of an infinity of other small details that I’d never noticed before.

His dark eyelashes were incredibly long, casting soft bluish shadows on his perfect white skin. His thin lips could have been drawn, its contours absolutely perfect and, although he was serious now, their corners still crooked slightly upward, giving him an innate treacherous expression. The bangs of hair falling over his forehead concealed his thin, slightly arched eyebrows, and I had to concede that they were probably the point of his physiognomy that made him look so ... not Human.

“That’s not the point!” I countered, looking away from the terrible beauty of his face. He didn’t understand what I meant at all and I wished I didn’t have to explain it word by word. “I can’t stop shak ...”

“Didn’t you just say you were the one who stitched me up? So? I’m sure you’ll be able to take them off as well.” His tone was suddenly so intense that it made me unconsciously hold my breath. “I’m sorry. I promise I won’t say another word,” he added, again back to whispering, and it took me some time to pull myself back together.

When my heart went back to a fast, but constant, heartbeat, I grabbed the scissors I’d left on the table and tried my hardest to make at least that one hand stop shaking so much. As slowly as he usually moved around me, I got it closer to his skin, my hand still shaking more than it should, and held my breath as I cut the first stitch. He didn’t even flinch, keeping as still as he’d promised. I dared look up at his face, trying to see if I’d hurt him in any way, but Gabriel kept his eyes shut, his expression soft. I decided to try even harder, as if by doing so I could repay his effort and patience, and cut stitch after stitch, holding my breath every time I closed the scissors so close to his skin. He remained completely motionless the whole time, like the statue he seemed to be; even when, for more than once, my uncontrollable shaky hands made the scissors scratch him.

Once I was finished I put the scissors on the table and sat up, allowing myself to relax for a moment, although relaxing was, to begin with, pretty much impossible with him sitting like that right in front of me.

He opened his eyes, as if awaking from a brief sleep, and looked down at his white scar where dozens of small black threads stuck creepily out of his skin. With an intrigued expression, he pulled one of the sticking ends and thread slid easily.

“Pull it slowly! You’ll end up hurting yourself,” I scolded, although my voice now sounded too rough and frail to be taken seriously, and he looked at me, watching me curiously, making me blush.

“Is it that hard?” he asked, slightly disappointed, and I had to avert my gaze. Facing his violet eyes was even harder than when his eyes were black.

“Hard?”

“Bearing my presence.”

If my heart was already beating fast, it definitely jumped at that, my cheeks blushing from frustration. I really wished I could hide, or at least disguise, my stupid, unreasonable reactions from him. I was sure my obvious intolerance to his presence displeased him deeply, even though he always tried to look indifferent to it.

“The air that surrounds you is different,” I tried to describe, not wanting to give him a direct answer. “It feels heavier, almost electric.”

“Is that why it’s hard for you to breathe?”

I nodded, feeling even more awkward. As to be expected, with his keen eyesight and hearing, he could easily see through me. Right then I was even willing to bet he could hear the madness that was my heartbeat.

“My heart always beats too fast, sometimes to the point that my chest hurts,” I added, frowning. “And I can’t stop this stupid trembling all the time.” Of all the incoherent reactions I felt near him, the uncontrollable trembling and shaking were the ones I hated the most.

“Sigweardiel says you react like this because, contrary to the rest of them, even himself or Lea, you’re able to sense my true self, regardless if I’m Sealing it or not. As it seems, everyone else can only see what I choose to show them.”

“Does that mean you’re never yourself?” I asked, daring to take a peek at his face, and his expression became somewhat distant.

“The few times that happened there wasn’t much left around me afterwards. Certainly not anything living.”

“Don’t you ever get tired? Constantly limiting and locking yourself up like that?” He shrugged.

“I’ve been doing it since I can remember. To me it’s as natural as breathing.”

“I guess it’s kind of the same with me,” I said and he slightly tilted his head, looking intrigued. “That automatic reaction thing. True that, in the beginning, standing close to you was really hard and exhausting. But then, contrary to what it may look like, now it’s not that hard anymore. A bit tiring, yes. But that’s only because of my own reactions. This constant shaking can even make my muscles ache at times. If all this is a reaction to your true self, then ... I guess you must be truly terrifying. And yet, contrary to what it may look like, I’m not afraid at all. Sure I can look like I’m scared to death at times, and sometimes, when my brain stops working properly and I can’t think straight, that feeling really does take over me. But that’s only because I’m not myself when that happens, and all that’s left is this bundle of chaotic emotions that don’t even have a reason to be. But as soon as I’m able to think straight again, as soon as I’m me again, just like now, I’m not afraid at all.” The intensity with which his violet eyes stared at me made me blush. I didn’t really know why I’d gone to the trouble of explaining all that, but I was kind of glad that I did.

“Does that mean ... you’re not afraid of me?” The disbelief that marked his tone of voice left a smile on my lips. Sometimes it was really like I was speaking with Lea, not with the terrifying Gabriel sitting in front of me.

“I guess that if you don’t count our first meeting, you never really gave any reasons why I should fear you.”

“But you know what I’m capable of.”

I squeezed my hands together as they suddenly started shaking even more. “Yes.”

“And yet ...”

“Alexander says I’m not really normal. I guess that’s due to the fact that I’m apparently able to accept all too well the presence of beings like all of you. Although, in my opinion, I reacted badly enough as it is, until I was finally able to accept that there wasn’t much I could do to change the circumstances I got myself into.” I pointed at the tweezers on the table. “Use that to pull the pieces of thread.” He looked at the tweezers for a moment before grabbing them, his movements ever so slow. “Always outward. And do it slowly!” I added as he quickly pulled three pieces in a blink of an eye.

“It doesn’t hurt at all. Tomorrow there won’t be even a mark,” he proudly stated and I sighed, defeated by his unmovable certainty. “Even so, two days. Who would have thought that it would take me this long to heal a little scratch like this?” I had to blink twice, completely stunned by the notion he had about the injury that had almost cost him his life.

“All because someone was stupid enough to go into battle and leave half his powers Sealed inside some miserable Magic Circle!” Another voice critically pointed out and I turned towards the door to see Alexander standing there, a deep frown marking his forehead.

“Eh! You’re always exaggerating!” Gabriel grunted, apparently in such a good mood he didn’t even bother to get angry at what he’d just heard. Alexander stepped in closer and looked critically at his scar.

“I wish it would leave a deep, red mark so you would always remember just how stupid you really were!” he went on, still angry, and I couldn’t help smile. In truth his bad mood only went to show just how worried he’d been. I wondered if Gabriel had also noticed it. “Mari, before ... I’m sorry,” he added, his tone suddenly lower, filled with shame and guilt, even though I was the guilty one, since I’d so unfairly judged him.

“It’s fine. How’s he doing?”

“He’s sleeping. He probably won’t wake up till tomorrow.” I nodded and Alexander turned back to Gabriel, who kept pulling dark threads out of his chest. “I’m replacing the cat.” He didn’t even wait for an answer, disappearing in a shower of soft black feathers.

“Is Lea on watch?” I asked and Gabriel nodded, seeming too focused on what he was doing. “Because of the Deiwos that escaped you?”

“Yes. But you have nothing to worry about. We won’t be staying long, and he’s sure to follow us when we leave.”

Suddenly the world around me became incredibly silent. I was sure I hadn’t heard it right and my mind immediately explained that fact with how soft his voice had sounded.

If they left again I’d be all alone, just like before, and my life would go back to that succession of gray, meaningless days it had been. With a shiver I recalled my last few weeks, where nothing seemed right and where something was always missing. I’d forgotten all that the minute they’d returned, bringing with them that mysterious glow that had brought me back to life. And now he was telling me that they were leaving again, soon, and that I’d have to go back to my previous state of a living shadow, empty inside, showing to the outside world all that, in reality, I didn’t have.

I felt lost, and angry, and the only distinct thing that filled me was an inexplicable pain.

“You’re ... leaving?” I repeated, fearing his confirmation, and he nodded, reopening the dark whole inside my chest that I’d almost forgotten about.

“It was never my intention to return.”

“And you were going to disappear? Just like that?” I accused, my voice escalating almost to the point of hysteria, and his hand froze, the tweezers he held about to catch hold of another piece of thread. I watched as he slowly raised his head to look at me, and only then was aware of the burning anger eating at me, making my face red hot. I looked away, escaping his intent gaze, the way he looked almost surprised before my sudden explosion, and wished I could simply run away from that place.

“That was also not my intention ... not in the beginning at least,” he added and I made myself keep my mouth shut, knowing that if I didn’t I’d only end up spouting more unjustified accusations. Right then I felt childishly wronged and left behind, as if all the emotions I’d tried to subdue since they’d left had suddenly returned to claim their right to express themselves. “However, as time went by, I was able to think more clearly about everything. And, after our last talk, I concluded that the only way I can get what I really want is by keeping away from you.”

I looked at him in outrage and frowned deeply annoyed at his nonchalant expression.

“And what’s that exactly?” I asked, the sarcasm deep in my voice, and he had the audacity of smiling.

”Quite simple, really. First, that our Contract won’t be fulfilled so that, somehow, even from far away, I can be a part of your life. And second, that you may smile more often and that you won’t be constantly dragged to a world where you don’t belong, and where I do not wish you to belong.” I could hardly contain myself. I cringed and felt as my cheeks took on a much deeper red. And yet, the pain that ran amok in my chest almost felt like he’d just stabbed me.

“How can you be so selfish … and only think of what you want?” I muttered in between clenched teeth, the sadness leaving a bitter taste in my mouth, but, as usual, no tears to talk about.

He looked even more baffled and then a deep frown marked his white, perfect brow.

“But I did think! I thought of what you want! Didn’t you want to get rid of me? To go back to your normal life as it was before?” he asked, looking confused and angry. But his inability to understand me only went to enrage me even further.

“You really are ... an idiot! Life as it was before?” I repeated ironically. “Just look at me! You really think nothing has changed? That I’m still the same?!” I hid my face between my hands, elbows on my knees, and took a deep breath, trying to pull myself together, knowing that if I kept going down that path I’d end up losing myself somewhere on the way, and tried to calm down. “Why do I even bother,” I murmured, suddenly feeling all too tired. Trying to communicate with him was always a battle, and one that I always ended up losing.

We were both silent for a moment and, when he spoke again, his voice was so gentle and soft that it almost hurt.

“Tell me. What are you thinking?”

“That all my efforts are for nothing. That no matter how much I try, I’ll probably never be able to understand you. That in truth I’d very much like to cry.” I sighed and raised my head, accepting defeat and the emptiness that came with it. “It doesn’t matter. Do as you please. In the end, that’s how things have always been.”

I stood up, avoiding having to face him again, and forced my shaky legs to obey me and take me away from there, away from him. I would have run if I wasn’t so afraid to stumble and fall. I climbed the stairs up to my room, holding on to the handrail with too much strength as I tried to keep my ribs from hurting, and was finally back to my small sanctuary.

I sat on my bed and blinked my nonexistent tears away. The lump in my throat and the pain brought about by his words still lingered, making me sad and angry at myself at the same time. I’d fought so hard to keep what I was intact but had ended up allowing him to take too much space inside of me; space that, once he was gone, would remain empty and aching. And I couldn’t even scream that I’d been betrayed, although it certainly felt like it. After all, I’d always known he’d end up disappearing without a warning. He’d come to revolutionize my world and, now that my world had gotten used to his chaos, he was going to disappear, probably forever.

* If you want to know more about this book or simply access earlier updates, please visit the official site at http://carpersanti.net/gaea/