"I order you—"

The crack of a skull indicated another broken contract; another dead master, another worthless soul the ravenette would swallow but not relish. This one hadn't been any different. Foolish girl. Her wish had been pitiful; now she would never get it fulfilled. The demon wouldn't listen to any more of her orders.

What a disappointment she had been.

At first, he had truly thought that – with enough skill and patience – she could be molded into something he would be able to enjoy. He had been wrong.

He had been wrong quite a few times in the past decades.

Or was it even longer? Time always passed in the blink of an eye to someone like him.

It all had started three years after his death. The raven-haired demon had been sated; the insufferable hole in his stomach had been filled. He had been delicious, perhaps even more so than he had expected. It had been a worthy meal, and a grand farewell to the life he had lived for many months. Though, not even this soul had been able to satisfy him forever, of course, and one day, he had found that another contract was in order.

He had found a soul to claim not long after.

The boy had been small and petite. His eyes had been green but large, and when he opened his mouth, the stubborn tone of his voice had nearly reminded him of the orders he had so happily complied with. And so he had chosen this young male as his new master.

But he hadn't been like him at all.

Tears had stained his pale cheeks much too often; at night, the boy had cried for his mother, blaming the demon that he was unable to bring her back from the death. No acceptance, no will to move forward. He could live a better life with the dark-haired man by his side, not needing to find shelter on the streets of London any longer, but it hadn't been enough. Nothing had ever been enough. The demanding tone the demon had delighted in turned into greed and childish anger, and he hadn't been willing to put up with this. After but a few weeks, the boy's existence had come to an end.

He had tasted dull and like wasted time and effort.

Just like the ones after him.

Some of them had been closer than others but in the end, it had all just been the same. They couldn't match. It was a frustrating realization but over the years, it had become something the demon had to accept. His soul had been unique; there was no other soul like this.

Gloves soaked with blood were disregarded and the ravenette withdrew from the girl, leaving her alone in her room where her mother would find the young female the next morning. He could already imagine her screams and cries, the horror in her face when she had to realize that the charming fiance her daughter had introduced her to wasn't quite as kind as he had let on. It had been a new role, maybe a bit more amusing than having to serve someone, but her time had been up.

The demon reached up to wipe off the few remaining crimson droplets that were smeared on his lips. She tasted like ash.

The taste of him was still lingering on his tongue, when he was just concentrating enough. A heady, intoxicating taste, sweet, just bitter enough to remind of the sorrow and grief that had constantly pumped through the boy's veins. And something else he had never truly wanted to put his finger on.

The demon could still remember that evening as though it had been only yesterday.

He had given the boy one last day; perhaps he had given them both those few last hours. He had been the only one the ravenette had ever encountered who hadn't begged for his life. There had been no fear, no wanting to escape. The young male had known what he had agreed on and had intended to fulfill his part of the contract, just as the dark-haired man had fulfilled his. Being a disappointment to the demon had been out of question for him, and he had succeeded. He had been full of pleasant surprised till the end indeed.

And it had almost been—odd, to leave this existence behind. It had been more than enjoyable to watch and tease the young male. To make a taunting comment or two when he had to carry the fragile little human home. When he had been told to stay until the boy had fallen asleep, because nightmares were plaguing him. The way his face had shifted into an annoyed, suffering grimace when the man had brought a feline into the house. Ah, he could really remember that all quite well.

How small, thin fingers had clutched at him—

He had been at the boy's side until the very end, just like he had promised. The arrangements the other had wanted him to take care of had been tended to even after his death, and the family name had ultimately ceased. There had never been a wedding between him and his blonde fiancée, no child that could continue the work of the Queen's Watchdog. Everyone had had to proceed with their lifes, until those who had known the young lord had stopped existing, as well.

Everyone but him.

He wouldn't die. He would be, forever. And perhaps, immortality could be achieved by simply staying in someone's thoughts. Wouldn't that please the smug, haughty Earl? Wouldn't that bring the smallest, and most subtle of smiles to the lips of the boy who had never genuinely smiled after the incident? Demanding even though he was no more, wasn't he? Requesting something without even existing any longer.

Glancing at the blue stoned ring he was wearing on his ring finger, the dark-haired man sighed silently.

Enternity could be a rather long time, couldn't it?