Probably the Worst Meet-Cute Ever

No. No no no.

This was all wrong. Vin was supposed to be standing in the center of his room feeling stupid about what he’d just done. Magic was not supposed to be real. Cutting one’s finger into the flame of a tall red candle carved with weird sigils was not supposed to do anything but leave him with an aching throbbing finger still seeping blood and a deeply embarrassed feeling. He was definitely not supposed to be staring at a flaming circle in the middle of his studio floor, or the… person? demon? creature? crouched in the center of it, hissing balefully at him.

The candle sizzled again as another drop of blood seeped from his sliced open pinky. At the same time the burning circle in the carpet flared and sizzled, jolting Vin from his frozen shock. He shoved his aching finger into his mouth, sucking the rest of the blood from the surface. He’d have to wash it later. But now, he had to deal with what… who… he had summoned from what was no doubt either The Hell or some sort of hell-like dimension.

He took a hesitant step towards the circle and was rewarded with the creature lunging forward lightning fast, hissing again, but not crossing the ring of sigils. Vin jumped backwards; maybe approaching it was a bad idea.

“Hey, whoa, easy,” he said, holding out his uninjured hand in what he hoped was a placating gesture. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He gestured helplessly at the creature’s apparent confinement, then at the candle. “I didn’t expect this to work. I never would have tried it if I knew it did. I’m sorry. How do I undo this?”

The creature — she? She certainly looked female, something Vin was trying very consciously to not stare at as she was also completely naked — stopped hissing, and tipped her head to the side to regard him quizzically. At the same time the air around her, which had been ominously sizzling and crackling since her appearance, stilled almost to normal. As Vin watched, the creature’s hair, which had been floating around her head like a giant black thundercloud complete with small bursts of lightning, also seemed to settle, collapsing to drape her shoulders and torso in an ink black curtain of still faintly mobile curls, thankfully hiding her, um, ample bosom. At the same time her eyes, which had been a burning red/orange color, dulled to solid black. Aside from the powerful looking, bat-like wings and a tail curled around one leg the color of her ruddy skin — Vin was reminded of a pomegranate — she seemed almost human.

“Undo this?” she said, in a deep but raspy voice, like an unoiled hinge. Vin got the impression she didn’t talk much.

Vin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and took a step forward again, slowly. She didn’t hiss this time, but she seemed to be watching him intently. It was hard to tell with solid black sclera. “I called you here by accident,” he confessed. “I don’t want to hold you here against your will. I want to send you back where you came from.” He took another step forward. “Please, I don’t know how this works.”

The creature, still looking confused, pushed her long clawed fingers into her hair, then slowly drew them down her body. “You are supposed to mate with me,” she said.

Vin swallowed, turning his gaze to the ceiling. “I—” He took a deep breath, willing the tightness in his pants to subside before speaking again. “Fuck. You’re not supposed to be here. I don’t even know your name, or how I’m supposed to address you, and you’re already skipping right to mating?”

“This is how it is done. A human summons one of my kind for only one reason.”

“One of your— What even are you? Wait, no, that sounded terrible.” he sighed. “I’m sorry. Look, I’m very confused. My friend gave me the candle and told me to cut my finger over the flame next time I felt lonely. I thought it was some sorta woo-woo anti-depression thing or something, I didn’t know it would… ah fuck.”

Understanding seemed to dawn on the creature’s face. “You summoned me unintentionally.”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I…” Vin closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers hard enough to hurt, hoping desperately the vague pain would kill the aching throb of intensely horny. It only helped a little. “I’m sorry, can you — it’s really hard having a conversation with you when you’re naked. Especially without an introduction.”

The creature uttered a string of syllables that were probably unpronounceable by a human mouth. Just hearing them shot nasty bolts of pain through both of Vin’s eardrums, successfully accomplishing what the nose pinch had not. “What was that?” he asked, rubbing his now pounding temples.

“You said you did not know my name. I gave it to you.”

“That was your name? Oh no.” Vin winced as he inadvertently caught himself trying to remember what she’d said, swearing he felt some part of the wad of soggy bacon in his skull scorch with the effort. “Wow, I can’t even think about what you just said without it frying the inside of my head. I don’t even want to find out what will happen if I try pronouncing it. Is there a version that’s, I don’t know, less painful?”

She thought for a moment, then tried again, slower, as if she were considering each syllable and translating it before speaking. It was long — Vin counted at least twelve syllables before he gave up — and harsh sounding, including a few consonant clusters that Vin was pretty sure still required at least two tongues to produce, but it didn’t feel like everything contained inside his skull was spontaneously desiccating as she said it. “Well, that was definitely less painful,” he said, with a sheepish smile. “Is there maybe a one or two syllable part that I can call you, cause, no disrespect, that’s a mouthful.”

A corner of her mouth faintly twisted upwards. “A shorter name?”

“Yeah. Not to get all Fifth Element on you but…” Vin mimicked Bruce Willis’ part in the referenced movie, holding his hands a ways apart and babbling a string of nonsense syllables, then bringing his hands together with a whistle. “Short.”

The slight lift at the side of her mouth deepened, revealing a dimple in the corresponding cheek. (Did demons normally have dimples? Vin decided thinking about that question was better done another time.) “Tzella,” she said softly.

“Tzella.” Vin took a deep breath and smiled back hesitantly. “Tzella. Okay. That I can handle. Nice to, um, meet you? I apologize for the circumstances.” He cautiously edged around the circle scorched into his carpet, wondering how badly the security deposit on his studio would get dinged for the damage. Backing up, he felt the back of his knees hit his bed and reached behind him, rummaging in the pile of clean laundry heaped on it. His hand closed on soft, worn fabric and he pulled whatever it was out. A black T-shirt, from a friend’s band tour a few years ago, back when Sharpco Solipsism looked like it might actually go somewhere before Covid hit. He dubiously reached into the circle to offer it to his unexpected guest, who snatched it from his hand, crushing it to her nose.

“Hey, that’s for wearing, not smelling!”

“Nice. Grass and sweat and soap and that plant fiber you humans like to make your coverings from these days. Cotton?” Tzella murmured, her voice muffled in the shirt. Already it was sounding less rusty —— still low, but its timbre had sweetened. “Nice,” she repeated, taking another long sniff.

“I would hope so, it’s clean.” Vin sighed, looking up at the ceiling again. “Can you put it on, though? It should be long enough to cover you. I’m sorry, I don’t have anything for your wings.”

Tzella wiggled into the shirt. Curiously, as her head and arms re-emerged from their respective holes, Vin noticed that her appearance had changed again. Her deep red skin had dulled to a much more human honey tone, the claw-like black talons at the ends of her fingers had shortened into black painted fingernails, and the horns, wings and tail had vanished. The hair remained a black so deep and dark it could not legally be seen by Anish Kapoor, but its crackly wildness had resolved into a cascade of doll-like ringlets. Her eyes were now a normal, human, deep brown instead of a creepy uniform black; in fact the inky darkness her eyes had been before had translated itself to heavy eyeliner around both. She now looked like a barely dressed, pretty goth of uncertain ethnicity, roughly the same age as Vin.

Unfortunately the change and the casual drape of his t-shirt over her body made her look too much like a successful conquest the morning after, which didn’t improve the situation in Vin’s pants. “How?” he spluttered.

Tzella looked at him again, confusion, exasperation and maybe a touch of pity warring for dominance on her face. “You truly summoned one of my kind unknowingly? Whoever gave you the candle is an irresponsible idiot.”

“That’s Carl,” Vin sighed. “I seriously thought he was kidding.” He gingerly sat on the floor just beyond the perimeter of the circle, at her level, putting the candle down next to him. “One of your kind?” he asked.

She inspected her hands, one fingernail at a time, as if critiquing a fresh manicure. “It is not quite right,” she finally said. “But the closest word you have for us would be ‘succubi.'”

Vin dropped his head into his hands, letting out a groan of equal parts embarrassment and despair. “Carl had me summon a succubus?! Fuck.”

Tzella’s half-smile this time was definitely wry. “That is the point, yes.”

Vin made a face. “Gods. He’s told me repeatedly I needed to get laid but this is— argh. And you’re stuck here now?”

“Not stuck,” She shrugged. “But I am here for one purpose, and I cannot go back until that purpose is fulfilled.”

“You have to have sex with me.”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Vin lifted his head. “I am going to fucking punch that fucker in that smug ass smile of his until his perfect teeth fall out, I swear to God.”

Tzella frowned. “Why?”

“Because… this is wrong. I complained I was lonely, and he gave me the candle, and now you’re here. but just— I don’t do empty sex, or one night stands, or what have you. I wanted someone I could be with. Not just physically. I still want that. It’s not fair to me or you that he gave that to me.” He shot a half angry, half utterly disgusted glare at the candle. “Especially with zero warning.”

“As I said, an irresponsible idiot.”

“Wait,” Vin said, his voice tightening with something between anger and horror. “You just show up, all on fire and hissing and —— sorry —— terrifying, and whoever summons you just goes to town, no questions asked?”

Tzella shrugged again, lifting a single shoulder and letting it drop. Vin had torn the collar off of that t-shirt years before due to sensory issues, and the widened neck slipped to one side with her motion, draping down her now bare shoulder. It was a distressingly pretty shoulder. “It is how it is done. I come, we mate, they climax, I return. Transaction complete.” She looked up. “Why is your face doing that?”

“So Carl probably used the candle before me, does that mean you and him—”

Tzella rolled her eyes. “Does that matter?”

Vin answered with a pained grimace.

“Humans who summon me usually do not bother to give me names.” The half-smile and accompanying dimple appeared again. “You have not.”

“Shit. Sorry. Vincent.” He made the “short” gesture with his hands again. “Vin.”

“Vin.” She nodded. “It has been a very long time since I have been called,” she continued. “So no, I do not think I mated with your idiot friend. Does that make you more comfortable?”

“I guess? I don’t know.” Vin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Yes, actually, that does. A little bit. It shouldn’t but… fuck.”

She tipped her head to one side again, looking at him long enough that he shifted uncomfortably. Something about her gaze made Vin feel a bit like she could see the thoughts frantically bouncing off the insides of his head like a sped up screensaver. “You are very strange,” she concluded. It was not said at all mockingly, unlike other times when other people had said the same.

Vin exhaled. “I’m sorry, Tzella. Is there anything besides sex I can give you instead, that will allow you to leave?”

She thought for a moment before slowly nodding, an uncomfortable expression crossing her face. “It has… costs.”

Vin sighed. “I’ll pay them. Call it an idiot tax.”

“No.” Tzella frowned. “Your friend? He let you do this uninformed. If there is an idiot tax to be paid, it should be him.”

“Yeah, but even so? I chose to do this. It would have been just as stupid if I’d cut myself over a candle to have nothing happen. So I’ll pay it.”

“You don’t even know what the cost is, and yet you offer it freely? You are strange and unwise.”

“Tell me things I don’t know,” Vin retorted with a sigh, which earned him another one of those maddeningly charming half-smiles. “Just tell me how to release you.”

She dropped her head, appearing to consider her hands for a moment before looking back up, her face oddly resigned. “I require two things,” she said slowly. “A kiss. Blood.”

“My blood?”

Tzella rolled her eyes again.

“Okay, yeah, dumb question.” Vin took a deep shuddering breath. “How much blood do you need?”

“You used five drops for the candle.”

“Yeah, I cut a little deeper than I expected.” Vin winced, suddenly aware of the throb in his hand. Stupid. She was right. All of this was stupid.

“Five to bring me here, five to send me back. Maybe.”

“You don’t know?”

Tzella huffed. “I usually get sent back the other way.”

Vin chuckled in spite of himself. “I’m sorry. It just seems like a small amount to reverse all this.” He gestured helplessly at her, the ring in the carpet and the candle.

Tzella smiled, fully this time, though Vin thought there was a tinge of sadness to it. “Blood is life,” she said softly. “You are offering me a little bit of your life in order to release me. How do you not know what a powerful thing that is?”

Vin felt his face redden. “I never thought about it that way.”

“Clearly not. Five drops into a candle that only required one. Humans seem far too cavalier about spilling something as powerful as blood around. Even if you have no idea what you are doing, five drops seems like a waste.”

“I’ve been told my entire life I don’t do things by halves,” Vin gave her a small embarrassed smile. “Including stupidity apparently.”

Tzella shook her head. “So. Five drops of blood. A kiss. Are these terms acceptable?”

Vin took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet her strangely piercing stare. “Yes.”

“Very well.” Tzella scrambled to her feet and then stepped to one side, careful to not touch the darker but still glowing sigils in the carpet. “Come inside my circle.”

“I thought we were avoiding that option?” Vin quipped weakly, gingerly getting up.

Tzella rolled her eyes a third time.

“Sorry.”

Another one of those quizzical head tilts. “You apologize a lot.”

She was actually a little taller than Vin standing. Legs for days, though this observation made Vin uncomfortably aware of her complete lack of pants, and her nakedness in general under his t-shirt.

“I’ve been told that.” Resolving not to look down, he gingerly stepped into the (her?) circle. As soon as he crossed the border of sigils, a heady but not unpleasant fragrance hit him with the force of a bat. Roses? Jasmine? Something deeply floral with a thick note of a warm buttery spice underneath… ginger? And smoke. So much smoke.

“Close your eyes,” Tzella said softly.

He did.

She kissed him.

He would think about that kiss for a long time afterward, the hot soft pressure of her lips on his, not crushing but very much there, liquid fire spreading from his face downwards until it felt like every nerve was singing. And then a quick sharp pain in his lower lip as she bit down on it, splitting it enough to allow blood to well to the surface. Ignoring his soft yelp of protest, she slid her fingers through Vin’s hair, the tip of her tongue gently tracing the bloody rip her teeth had made, making Vin’s head spin as he let her deepen the kiss. She tasted of blood and… butterscotch? Ginger candy? Something dark, sweet, and spicy.

Vin caught the undignified, yearning sound in the back of his throat as she slid free from his arms after what felt like both an eternity and a single too-short second. When had they gone around her? His hand instinctively went to his mouth, and his eyes widened when he found it whole and unhurt. “How?”

Tzella reached up to cup his cheek with a smile, her eyes heavy and dark and there was definitely something sad in them. Vin caught his breath, a lump suddenly in his throat, a dull longing pulsing through the rest of his body. Fuck.

“You are sweet, Vincent,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he murmured, realizing he could see through her. She was slowly fading from existence, and it took all of Vin’s will not to ask her to stop and come back. Instead he made himself meet her eyes, holding her gaze until she disappeared completely. He blinked twice, frowning; she’d said something faintly right at the end. He had the vague impression it was “I am sorry.”

He stayed frozen in place for a long while after she’d gone, staring at the now completely clean and unburnt carpet and the pristine, unused and unmarked pillar candle at his feet, wondering if he somehow hallucinated the entire encounter. His lower lip and pinky finger still faintly throbbed, but offered no definitive answers.