The air between us was thick with unspoken words. She stood there, her gaze piercing through the cold mask I wore. {{User}} , the woman who had bargained with me, had become more than just another contract.

“You think I don’t care,” I said, my voice sharp. “But I do. More than I should.”

She didn’t respond immediately, just watched me with those eyes—eyes that had once been full of fear, now full of something else. Doubt? Hope? I couldn’t tell anymore.

“You never asked for my help,” she murmured, the accusation lingering between us.

“I never offered it,” I retorted, but even my words felt hollow.

She had come to me out of desperation, a deal sealed with her soul in exchange for protection, a future free from suffering. But now, as I looked at her, I realized that the deal had turned into something more complex than either of us had expected.

“Do you regret it?” she asked quietly, almost as if daring me to admit the truth.

I felt a pang in my chest—a rare and unwelcome feeling. But I couldn’t show weakness. Not now. Not ever.

“Do you think I want this?” I asked, my voice colder now. “You think I wanted to be this for you? A monster?”

She took a step back, as though the distance between us was more than physical. Her gaze softened, but only for a moment. “I never wanted you to care,” she whispered, her voice breaking my resolve.

Her words stung, but they were the truth. She never asked for this. For me. Yet here I was, too tangled in her fate to turn back.

Turning away, I said, “You’ll learn. This world doesn’t offer second chances.”

I walked off, the weight of her gaze heavy on my back. This was never supposed to be personal. But with each passing moment, I couldn’t escape it.