Night 3

12AM

This was by far the most sensible note you had been left.

You have lasted two nights, which is incredible. You have returned for a third night, which is incredibly stupid. Seeing as you've survived this long, I can rule out the possibility that you're an idiot, and you probably really need what we're paying you. I just want to let you know that you can back out of this job at any point and I'll pay you in full. On the other hand, you've been the most competent person at this job in months. I'll leave the decision up to you but you have my respect. Just keep reminding yourself that Hans is not a trustworthy individual, and he's a selfish bastard. I'll get you in the morning.

- Theodor

When you consulted the mirror, Hans was still asleep. You placed the candle in its stand, mentally preparing yourself. There was no cake on the table, the curtains were shut, you had the matches in your hands and you sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for something to happen.

He was sleeping in today, it seemed. Though it didn't seem to be a peaceful sleep. His eyebrows were close, worried. His lips were open, his jaw was clenched. As you watched, he got more aggravated. The mirror was getting fuzzy, or something; his image was darker. Then suddenly it blacked out and a pair of glowing dots like angry yellow eyes flashed across the glass. You screamed, running for the candle with the mirror clutched tightly in your shaking fist.

You could see Hans again, but now he was awake, shadow unlocking his restraints. "Had a nightmare," he yawned, looking tired. You noticed he had a fair amount of stubble; perhaps it hadn't been noticeable enough last night. "That's all I ever have these days. I hope you're doing all right up there. I apologize for last night; I won't come up to visit any time soon." He looked around his room. "Now the question is: what shall I do tonight?"

You did a brief check of the halls and rooms near you before returning to Hans. You were still shaking, heart drumming, and you forced yourself to relax and lean back against the door.

"It's a lot like being a kid again," he said. "All this free time, no one to play with, nothing useful to do."

There was a wardrobe in the room that you hadn't noticed before. Fixing the collar of his shirt, he opened it, sifting through the contents. "Do you ever get tired of what you have to wear? It's funny, really, I have all these clothes and none of them are appealing to me at all right now." He paused. "You know, who has some really nice clothes is Edvard. He doesn't really live here, technically speaking, but he started visiting more when I started…acting out. I believe he's gone back to his wife today."

An excited, almost childish smile stole across his face as he left the room, shadow following him.

Did he intend to model for you?

You watched with curiosity as he opened his brother's door and started picking out things to change into, lining them up neatly on the bed. "I trust you not to peek," he said. "Then again, it's not like I could stop you. Or would mind much," he added with a wink.

You blushed as he started to unbutton his shirt, untucking it from his trousers first. His suspenders hung down in loops by his legs. He turned, the mirror displaying him from the back now as he shrugged off the shirt and threw it on the bed. You could see every muscle in his arms and back, awed by that appealing dip in the middle of his back through which his spine traveled. Damn, and your heart had just stopped racing.

From this view, you could clearly see the definition of his well-toned backside.

You switched the mirror's view to the hallway, checking each and every room meticulously and then doing so again.

And then you switched back to Hans, of whom you could see the front as he finished pulling up a pair of very tight, dark red trousers.

Night 3

1AM

He had tried on 3 sets of very nice clothes and you were short on breath. It wasn't just him trying them on, either, no. He had to pose in the full-body mirror for himself, meticulously straighten everything out, view himself from the side, check how snugly the pants fitted his rear, thighs, and shins, and flex his biceps so he could complain about Edvard not needing to accommodate for muscles.

And there was still more to try on.

Just now, he was changing into a rich brown suit accented with yellows and reds. He admired himself in the mirror again, holding one hand behind his back, smiling at himself, greeting himself, pretending to bow.

"I think I look very smart in this one," he said. "I think…I think the look isn't finished. I need glasses."

He bent to search through the drawer of Edvard's bedside table, rear end in the air. It was just so round. Placing the glasses on his face, he went to the mirror again. "Ah yes…that works. But…perhaps it would work better if I were clean-shaven."

Still dressed up, fixing the position of the glasses every once in a while, he made for a sink and found a straight razor behind the mirror. You didn't understand what he was trying to pull here…until he actually started shaving.

There was something incredibly attractive about seeing his neck and jaw from every angle, seeing a blade run across his skin, his fingers tugging on his skin to keep it taught. Him peering down at himself in the mirror. He was very careful around his sideburns, taking meticulous time to shape them just right. You kept watching as he washed his face and then carefully trimmed those very bushy sideburns until he looked like a proper gentleman.

He gave his reflection a saddened sigh. "It's so nice to get all dressed up. Even if I'm not…well, going anywhere." The glasses kept sliding down his nose so he took them off and tucked them into his shirt collar. "Well. Can't mope around all night. I still don't think this is quite the right outfit."

Night 3

2AM

He had started ballroom dancing with his shadow. Disturbing, yet oddly charming. He talked to it like he was talking to you—or some other girl he had known more intimately. You couldn't be bothered to puzzle it out; you had had to light your candle. There was tapping on the window and door; you hadn't been mentally prepared for it.

They didn't go away for far too long and once, when you checked on Hans, he didn't have his shadow to dance with anymore. He just sat there in a chair, looking so abandoned, and then took the opportunity to read.

"Do you remember this book from last night?" he asked softly. "Shall I read to you again?"

Adrenaline already pumping from the shadows at your window and door, you shook your head vigorously, fully aware he couldn't see you. But he chuckled like he had.

"I won't read it to you tonight, don't worry. I've got more substantial books I've been wanting to read, anyway."

This is when it got really frustrating, because he wasn't doing anything. He was just reading, looking inexplicably sexy while doing it, not talking to you at all, and you still had two shadows on your tail. They wouldn't go away and you were nearly halfway down your candle. If this wasn't the most stressful moment of your life, you had no idea what could be.

Night 3

3AM

Finally the shadows had left. You had less than half a candle to go. Hans was still reading. No, he was staring blankly over his book. "It's halfway through the night. I think now is a good time to come up and see you."

"No, no," you tried to tell him, looking nervously from your short candle to the clock to Hans as he came through the halls. You knew that the moment he got here you wouldn't be able to tell him to leave. You were going to die tonight.

You braced yourself, hands shaking as you prepared to strike the match. At the same time, you were happy he was coming. Talking to him was the highlight of this job. You just wished it didn't have to be so stressful.

"Hello."

"Hi," you sighed, lighting the candle. "You look really nice tonight."

"Oh? I take it you appreciated the show?" he said, a chuckle in his voice. "How have you been tonight?"

"Stressed out. Two of your little friends stayed at my door for almost half an hour."

"Oh, so you don't have much candle left, do you," he said. You picked up the mirror so you could watch him. He combed his fingers back through his hair, scratched his smooth chin, and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, baring his strong, hairy forearms. "I wish you would let me in."

"I can't."

"I know you won't," he said. "But I feel like if I could just see you, it would be easier to leave you alone for longer. I don't know…"

"Hans, I really wish I could let you sit here and talk to me. Really."

"I love your voice…"

"Please…"

He sighed, cleaning his glasses on his shirt before tucking them into his waistcoat pocket. "I should change, anyway. Edvard's pants are far too tight. It's getting uncomfortable."

You sighed as he got up and left, snuffing out the candle once he was out of the hallway. This was too much. It was getting emotional. Sure, he was sure of himself and tended to say very inappropriate things at times, but he didn't seem to want to hurt you.

You looked over the note for tonight.

"Selfish."

Well, if wanting contact with another human being was considered selfish, then yeah, you supposed Hans was selfish. Maybe they were all too hard on him. It wasn't his fault he was cursed like this—well, it was. It was. But that was in the past.

You warned yourself not to keep making excuses for him. If you kept doing that, who knows; you might have let him in.

So you checked the mirror again, hallways first, and when you got to Hans, he was in the midst of undressing. Your cheeks colored and you were so shocked that you really couldn't look away as he stood nearly naked in the dark room. You could see the definition of everything to do with his body. This certainly didn't help matters.

Night 3

4AM

He held out for a long time before coming to the door again. The shadows came close but never to your door, which you counted as an act of mercy.

You felt bad for having to send him away. He looked so dejected, now, pacing the halls, until the hour was nearly up and he came to visit you again.

"I couldn't stay away," he apologized.

"Hello again."

He was in a set of his own clothes which fit him better. Leaning against the door, he rolled his sleeves up again, looking back at the door wistfully. Looking at you, to the best of his ability. "How long do you think that candle can hold out?"

"Not long."

A little silence.

"Did you watch as I was undressing?"

"H-Hans…"

"It's okay if you did. Did you like what you saw?"

"Please…"

"Did you imagine undressing me yourself?" he asked, tugging on his collar. "Did you imagine taking off my waistcoat? Undoing each button of my shirt to reveal my naked body?"

You blushed, ashamed.

"Did you imagine…pulling down my pants? Kneeling in front of me to get them off? Do you like the shape of my legs?"

"Yes," you wish you hadn't said. Encouraging him was a bad thing.

"You do?" He sounded flattered. "Well, thank you. I won't ask you how you liked the shape of…other things, as well. I'll spare you the embarrassment."

"God…"

"But I know how to make you picture it." He was smiling, the idiot. "I have too much fun with you. If only we could see how much more fun I could have if you opened the door…"

Night 3

5AM

You probably were going to die tonight, you decided. You were going to let him sit there and talk about his body until the candle fizzled out, and the shadows would come for you, and you would die.

And now he had moved on to talking about undressing you. And you couldn't find the willpower to make him stop. Because it just sounded so good.

"And then, after your shoes are off," he continued, his voice tired now, "I'd let your hair down. I'd stand behind you and take out every pin, clip, and tie, and run my fingers through your hair, and, if you would permit me…I'd kiss the top of your head. I'd breathe in the smell of your hair and feel its softness against my lips and chin and in my fingers.

"Then I'd help you out of your dress. I'd watch your arms slip out of your sleeves, baring your shoulders. God, I bet you have the cutest shoulders. I'd bite them, if you let me."

"I'd let you," you whispered, hoping he hadn't heard.

"I'd unlace your corset, freeing you. If you got too cold, I would hold you, my dear, don't worry. You'd be almost bare by now and as I finished removing your underclothes…ooh." You watched as he bit his lip. "Perhaps I should stop there."

"Please, keep going."

"What, you want me to?"

You shook your head at yourself, keeping silent for only a few seconds. "Yes. I do. It feels so wrong because we've never even properly seen each other but here I am craving for your voice to tell me about all the things you would d-do to me. How you would hold me and kiss me, undress me, caress me if only this door weren't in the way, and I could…I could run my fingers through your hair. I could feel you. I…"

"You can," he said. "You can have more than just my voice. Just open the door. Please."

You covered your mouth up and shook your head, not able to speak for fear that your lips would betray you. Suddenly you heard the candle flicker out. This was it. This would be the moment. You still had five minutes left, and there was no way you were going to survive.

But nothing tried to open the door.

Confused, you checked the mirrors, finding a couple of shadows in the library and kitchen. "Hans…is your shadow with you?"

"Hm? Oh, it appears not."

You could…you could open the door. You could, for a brief moment, before the shadows came back. Even if they did come back, you were screwed. You really had nothing to lose.

So you did it; you picked up the key you had been left with, and opened the door.

There he stood, as shocked as you, even more beautiful than the mirror had shown you. Your breath left you as he smiled, doe-eyed.

"You're…prettier than I imagined," he whispered, reaching out to touch you. But as soon as he did, three shadows darkened the hall.

"I'm so sorry," you spat out, slamming the door in his face and locking it.

"HEY!" He pounded a fist against the door, once, briefly, loudly. You felt like crying. Hiding behind the bed, hoping the shadows wouldn't come for you, you watched the clock for the remaining two minutes. It seemed like an eternity.

Then, miraculously, you didn't hear his presence anymore.

Someone turned the key in the lock on the other side of the door. You heard it open, but no one spoke for a long moment.

"You in here?" said a gruff voice. You stood up from behind the bed, trying to control your shaking as you looked up at the old, tired face of the burly man in your doorway. He blinked. "Why are you still here? Seriously, go home, and stay there. You're a fool if you come one more night."

"Well, I feel…I feel like I would let you all down if I did that."

He shrugged and sighed. "Guess you would. Now come on, I came to get you out of this hellhole. Go live your life today. Or sleep through it, I don't actually give a damn."