FOUR

¬Amolet 

I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

He spoke to me that night, which seems forever ago now. He spoke to me, in the softest voice, sounding so sure and firm. Each day I waited until all the staff signed out and left the facility before I snuck down to his cell, wanting to hear him speak again. As usual, he remained quiet, not allowing another word to slip past his lips. 

Part of me is starting to wonder whether I dreamt the interaction. 

Like past nights, I promised Renna I would let in the night staff when they arrive, and waved her out before I quickly weave my way through the many hallways in the facility, striding directly toward Cian’s cell. Each day I get a wave of excitement flush through me, as if the night will be any different from the others. 

The hallway is drenched in its usual amount of cold as I approach the end. I keep my footsteps light this time, not wanting to alert him right away that I’m approaching. I want him to wonder whether I’m coming...I want him to anticipate it. 

Looking into his cell, I startle at the sight of him reading, holding the book I brought him over a week ago in his hands, reading it intently. He’s in the same position as always, yet there is something so bizzare about seeing him carrying out such a mortal action...Not to mention the bright pink and glittery cover and even fluffier material being inside. 

"Oh..." I breathe, getting his attention. "You're reading."

He slowly closes the book, resting it down beside him. He doesn’t look mortified that I caught him reading, opting for his usual impassive expression, but I know he didn’t intend for me to see him doing so. In fact, he watches me warily as I sit down cross-legged in front of his cell. 

"I feel like I've caught an inanimate object moving on it's own," I murmur playfully. He doesn’t respond, watching me carefully, shadows melting in around his dark eyes. "That's not the best joke right now."

He turns his head, staring blankly ahead. He knows it’s too late to take that back, realising I’ve seen him interacting with the book, which is personally amusing to witness. I had brought it on a whim, having thought about giving up. Now it’s clear that boredom has finally gotten the best of him, pushing him to pick up this childlike book.

"Did you like it?" I ask softly, unable to smother the slight smile that dances on my lips. 

After a long moment, he finally exhales slowly, turning to look at me again. "Fairies don't exist."

It takes everything in me not to startle hearing him speak again, hearing that foreign voice from a faraway land glide over my skin, making me shiver. Part of me wants to rejoice that after all of this, I’ve finally been able to get him to speak to me, even if it was through the medium of a childhood book of mine. 

"It's not meant to be realistic," I breathe, trying to keep my voice steady, not wanting to scare him into not speaking again. "It's for little girls with big imaginations."

His gaze shifts, sweeping up and over my body before falling upon my gaze again. "You?"

"I'm not young," I say, almost too quickly. He doesn’t care, he’s simply putting up with me because he’s sick of me coming down here everyday to pester to him. He’s immortal, anyway, which means I can hardly compare anyway. "That young, I mean."

He doesn’t respond, although I swear I can see the slightest hint of a smile on his lips as he looks down at his hands that are knotted in front of him. 

"You can keep it, if you want. Or I could bring you another,” I offer lightly, trying to keep the conversations going. He shakes his head. I wonder how much a Sin, Greed specifically would spend reading if they weren’t locked up in this cell. 

"I'm not a little girl, so I suppose it's not for me,” he murmurs, resting his head back against the concrete wall. 

I take the moment to admire him. One may find him strange looking, being that he is so immaculately perfect it’s unnerving. You look at him and know it’s not normal, but I find him beautiful. His deep golden roots that glitter under the dull light at this end, smoothing out to black ends. His skin is smooth across his angular face, cheekbones and jawline straight and sharp. I can only imagine what he would be looking like if he weren’t wearing the same old dark clothing he must have worn in. 

"Okay, I'll bring you some more tomorrow then,” I murmur softly.  

Cian is quiet for a moment, leaving me to wonder whether he has anything more to say to me before he speaks again. "Don't work here, Amolet. Leave."

"I need the money,” I say immediately, defensive. I’m not going to let him tell me to leave here just because he doesn’t want to speak to me anymore. I would rather he just tell me to my face so I can be done with him...that would kill the curiosity that draws me to him so much. 

"I can get you money,” he replies softly, his eyes fixed upon me, examining my expression. I have so many questions that I can’t get past my lips. How can he get me money when he is locked up in here and has been for years? I imagine he has connections outside of here, but Renna assured me he hasn’t had any visitors since he arrived. 

"What? Why?"

"Working here will tear you apart. It will ruin you,” he admits roughly, shifting uneasily. It’s the first time I’ve seen his body change positions, his knees drawing up slightly. 

I narrow my eyes upon him, not liking the way he speaks to me as if I’m incapable of handling a job like this, just because I’ve been compassionate enough to speak to him and to try to give him a chance. "I think you underestimate me."

"Likewise,” he purrs.

Our eyes lock for a moment before I pull away, not wanting to become too captivated by the way he looks at me, the way he draws me in without an issue. I have to remember that he’s a Sin, and it’s his job to trick and manipulate mortals like me. It’s what they do for fun, and unless I keep my wits about me, I will fall victim to his games. 

"Tell me why you're here, why you put yourself into this cell,” I demand. 

He breathes in deeply, turning away to stare blankly at the wall again. My fingers curl up into fists, but I quickly remind myself not to overreact, not to get frustrated with him. "Don't go silent again. Who is that helping?"

"It's helping you," he mutters harshly, his tone having darkened since we started talking. All of a sudden this is a more pressing issue than it was before. "Quit. No one like you should have to work in a place like this. It will suck all the soul out of someone like you."

"Like me? What's that supposed to mean?" I growl. 

"I know girls like you...the kindness, the desperation to have everyone like them," he tells me. I’m unsure if he realises what he is saying is offensive, although I doubt he cares very much. "This job doesn't suit you."

"I'm not quitting. You will have to see me everyday for however long I need this job," I tell him firmly, refusing to back down, to let him try to tell me what to do. "Or until you walk yourself out of here."

He opens his mouth to speak him again, but the sound of footsteps descending down the hallway makes us both freeze. Quickly I stand, moving away from Cian’s cell as quickly as possible before Renna appears from the shadows. 

"Hey, Amolet...can I speak to you?" she asks, the nerves in her voice unmistakable. I’m not sure what she is doing here, since I’m sure I watched her sign out earlier. 

"Of course, Renna. What's wrong?"

"I just got this notice from higher up," she explains, handing me a folded letter with my name hand-written on the front. "It's for you, from the boss upstairs."

My heart rate falters as I consider what this could mean. Am I getting fired already? During the day I do all the work I am meant to and finish what I’m told to do. None of the patients dislike me, and I get along with most of the staff, so I can’t imagine why I’m being summoned upstairs. A lump immediately gathers in my throat as I peel the paper back. 

"Like an overseer?" I ask softly. I’m imagining she’s referencing the boss who owns the entire building, which means the message I’m to be conveyed must be very important. I’m going to be fired...

"He visits maybe once a year, if that,” Renna comments. There’s fear, even in her eyes. She knows this is serious, and knows I’m not going to be working here for much longer. I like Renna, and I hope that even if I lose my job, we will continue to be friends. 

I peer down into the note, the immaculate writing making me shiver. "It's just a date and time."

Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I’m not going to get any sleep tonight...

"I think he wants to see you,” Renna shivers. I just can’t imagine why.