"I've… I've come to make a deal." Rosaline's voice was shaky. It was dark, midnight had just passed, and there was a cool wisp of a breeze that ruffled her hair. The man standing before her wore a dark suit with a silver tie, and a darkly humorous expression to match. He had a slight beard, not quite stubble, but not quite a beard either. Somewhere in between. That, too, was black. And his short hair? Black.
"Yes, yes, my long-dead grandmother could have told me that." He chuckled and smiled at the young girl. "What would you like?"
Rosaline kicked the gravel where she had buried the box to summon the demon, and pursed her lips. She wasn't too keen on talking to demons, but she was even less keen on what would happen if she didn't. "I need someone's life to be saved… My boyfriend… He's dying. I need to make him better. I was wondering if you could help with that."
"Of course I can, dear," replied the British crossroads demon. "But I'll need something from you in return."
"Anything." She said quickly, too quickly.
"Your soul." He must have seen the protest forming in her eyes, because he elaborated. "Now, I don't need it now, but in ten years I'll come to collect it."
The girl, who could not have been any older than fifteen, thought this over. She would only live naturally for another ten years, and then be sent to Hell. But she couldn't just let her boyfriend die, could she? She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh. "On… On one condition… He doesn't die until he is naturally supposed to die. So no car crashes, no debilitating accidents… He stays healthy and happy. Deal?" She stuck out her hand to shake on it.
The demon laughed and nodded. "Of course, my darling. But that's not how we seal a deal in Hell." And before she could protest, his lips were locked with hers.

The third storey of the hospital was remarkable quiet. No beeping came from any of the machines around the room. When she opened the door, her once almost-dead boyfriend who was only supported by a machine to breathe for him less than twenty-four hours ago, now he stood with her back to her, standing by the window. He must have heard her come in, because he stiffened instantly.
"Rosaline? I've got something to tell you." Yves's voice was quiet.
Rosaline hurried over to his side and hugged him tight. "I know, I know, you're all better! Isn't it a miracle? The doctors-"
"It's not about that…" He interrupted. Something in his voice frightened her. "I don't think I can keep doing this with you anymore…"
She was stumped. "What do you mean, baby? Like coming to the hospital? Of course not! You're pretty much free!" She held him tighter and beamed up at him.
He pushed her away and took a step back. He still wasn't looking at her. "No, I mean together. I don't think we should be together anymore."
Her chest felt cold. "Babe, it's probably just the meds. You'll come to your senses, Yves, you'll realise what you're saying is bullcrap and we'll be okay."
Yves's face was going red in anger. He whirled on her, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her with his words. "They haven't given me anything!" He exploded. "I'm fine! I'm completely in my own shoes and know what I'm saying! I don't want to be with you!"
"Yves…? What do you mean? You can be breaking up with me. Not after-" Rosaline was about to say 'not after I sold my soul for you', but she knew that wouldn't go down to well with her devout boyfriend. "Not after everything we've been through!"
He let her go and took a step away. "Rosie, I'm happier without you. I know it hurts, but when I was sick last night, I was alone and I realised that I don't feel so pressured when I'm with you." Yves's voice was suddenly soft, pleading for Rosaline to understand.
But she didn't. How could she? She had literally promised herself to the devil in ten years to save her boyfriend from dying a slow and painful death. And this was how she was repaid? "You can't do this… Please…"
"I'm sorry, Rosie. Let the devil have me for the pain I've caused you, but I just can't keep doing this."
"'Let the devil have you'? Wow. Amazing choice of words for this situation, Yves." She said sarcastically. "You were in the devil's grasp, and who do you think saved you? What saved you?"
He placed his hands on her arms again, softer this time. "The doctors say it was a miracle. And you said it was. There must have been an angel watching over me, Rosie. Doctor Latmar cannot find any cancer anywhere in me. It was a miracle."
Her eyes were filling with tears. No. Not after everything she had done. This couldn't happen. Then something occurred to her. A loophole in her deal. She could almost hear the demon's voice laughing and reciting it. He stays healthy and happy… But she had never said happy with herself. She knew that there was no persuading him now, not after the demon had held up his side of the bargain and saved him, and made him happy. "If that's how you really feel…"
"And I do."
"Then I guess I should leave you to be happy."
Yves pulled her into a tight embrace and pressed his lips to her head. "Thank you, my angel."

Rosaline was at another crossroad that night. The demon from the night before was walking up one of the roads towards her before she had even straightened from burying her box.
"I believe you called?" He asked in that annoying British voice with a grin twisting his features.
Rosaline stood up straighter and rubbed her hands together. She had no time for his nonsense. "I need to ask you a question."
"Shoot."
"Why did you trick me?"
He laughed and flicked his sleeves. "You made a deal with a demon, darling. You must expect a trick to be in there somewhere."
She wasn't amused. "You should have said something…"
"That's not what I do, young lady." He shrugged and smirked at her. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"
There was one thought that had been plaguing her mind since the previous night, and it had grown in strength since the breakup with Yves. "What happens when I die…? Do I just go straight to Hell? Or because you technically own my soul, does that mean something else happens to it?" Her voice quivered and her eyes started to burn with oncoming tears. Maybe Hell would be better than what she was going through.
The demon chuckled and inspected his fingernails as he spoke. "Now, now, why should I tell you that when there are people dying to find out?"
She wasn't impressed with that joke. His smirk was too annoying. Her fingers curled into hard little fists and she glared at the demon. "You know what? Screw you! Screw you and everything else! You lied to me! You said he'd be okay and-"
"And that he would be happy, you didn't specify that you wanted him to be happy with you, darling." There was a smile lurking behind his stupid honey brown eyes.
She shook her head, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. She swore that something in his eyes changed – compassion? – but before she could pinpoint it, it was gone. "How…? How could you…? He was my everything…"
The demon frowned at that. "You're fifteen. You don't even know what love is! You haven't even been alive for a fifth of what could have been your life! Young people always make irrational decisions and never include detail, which makes deals a lot easier, darling."
She turned her back on him and walked off, the tears flowing freely down her rosy cheeks.