You claim I want your soul, that your death is only in my hands. But I do not want it. Your soul is yours to keep until it is not.
I have never wanted a soul until her.
My Lilith. My night monster.
She is a storm on winter’s day, and I will be content with never seeing the sun again.
She offered me her soul, and I gave it back. Not because I did not want it. Oh, I wanted it like a flower wants the sun, like a river wants the sea. When I come to collect her soul, it will not be to take her to the afterlife. No, her soul will be mine to keep