One moment I wasn't and in the next I was, standing amidst the clutter my creator called her home. Roseline lounged on her mattress, a feline on her chest purring in contentment and the other very familiar one by her side washing her paws. The very one who hissed, drawing the attention to me. 

  For someone so skinny she did pack a punch because the next thing I knew was getting a fist on my nose, but I was taller, stronger and male, she had made me so. I grabbed her arms, twisting it behind her back and pressed her up against the cream tiled wall, giving her no room to move. My other hand covered her mouth, making sure she didn't shout.

  "Shh.. woman. What was that punch for?" I asked her, why would she punch someone she created? Sharp canines dug into my legs, ah the kittens. 

  "Alright, I will remove my hand now, don't shout." 

  "Who the fuck are you?" She yelled. 

  "I think I told you not to shout,"

  "I know what you told me you bastard," She yelled, again. Women just don't understand, do they?

I let go of her arms and shook my legs trying to detach the adamant kittens who had their teeth and claws buried into my calves. 

  "You really don't recognize me?" I strode to the window and pointed to myself, especially my face for emphasis. Sunlight streaming through her window illuminated the room, the tiny glass globe in her bookshelf caught the light and sparkled. I hoped my hair and the crown sitting on it shone in the sunlight too, she had put in a good amount of time thinking about the colour before settling with curls of pale blonde. 

  For a moment she stared at me in disbelief and then her eyes sparked, widening slightly as her jaw dropped. 

  "No..no no no.. this can't be," she mumbled to herself, looking at me again before walking over to the teapoy just by the bookself and grabbed a bottle of water. She drained the entire bottle in one go and then shuffled through the litter of books lying under the teapoy. 

  "Sythaerin," Roseline said to herself and then turning to me she did something I never expected. She laughed. For the next few moments I couldn't understand the gibberish she spoke in between her incessant laughter and snorts.

  I could hear words like hell nah, Jesus, whatever those meant. She reminded me of someone I knew, both shared the innate ability to laugh in serious situations, she now lay on the granite floor hands on her belly bent with laughter. The ginger tabby came up to her, sniffing to see what was wrong with her and the other white one gnawed and scratched at the guitar leaning on the wall next to the oak door. 

  "How did you get here, Sythaerin?" She threw a cushion on the floor, gesturing to have a seat. Me? The heir to Braxvia sitting on the floor? I made myself comfortable, sat on the cushion and leaned my back against the wall. Well, it wasn't so bad.

  "I do not know, I just am here," I really did not know how I ended up here,"I am a creation of yours, you tell me," I said. 

  Her brown eyes contemplated, looking at me like she was reading my soul, did I even have one? Soul?

  "Do you want a beer?" Roseline opened a big blue door of what looked like a cupboard. Inside it were compartments filled with food, it reminded me of an ice house, just smaller. She took out two glass bottles and handed one to me. It was freezing,

  "What is this?" I tried to read the engravings on the bottle, it's opening was covered with a thin metal plate, "Is this some kind of a potion?" 

 The contents of the bottles let out a full hiss as she pulled off the covering with her teeth. I was convinced it is a potion, normal solutions don't hiss. I tried doing the same like she had done, pulled the metal covering with my teeth, it didn't budge.

  She watched me trying to get the metal covering off for a while and then extended her hand, "Give it to me," her lips curled into a smirk as she effortlessly bit into the covering and pulled it off,   

  "You seriously can't even open a beer bottle, dark fae and all that," fumes rose from the opening as she handed it back to me. 

  "Cheers," she clinked her bottle with mine and proceeded to take a swig, "It's just ale Sythaerin, not any magic potion."

  The drink was surprisingly refreshing, not the bitter taste of ale, it was lighter and smoother on the throat.

  "This is good, did you brew it?" I ask her, the place I come from people would pay pretty penny for this. 

  "What? No.. I wish I did but no, I just bought it from the store," She says, draining her bottle in three more swigs and walks over to the kitchen. 

  I follow her and lean on the granite slab, watching her as she stands on the tippy toes, stretching as she tried to reach for the top shelf. 

  "Will I get my happy ending?" I reached for the top shelf and took out the pan she pointed at. 

  "Is that what you came for?" The peanut sizzled as she tossed them in with the butter, sprinkled some salt and then turned the plug causing the flames to vanish. The nutty aroma filled the room while she attended to the dishes in the sink. 

  "That's the least you can do, you created me, literally." 

  "Not everyone gets a happy ending, happily ever after doesn't exist," she tells me over the sound of pots clinking and being scrubbed clean. 

  "Everybody deserves happily ever after no matter how bad they are, maybe not the heinous ones but I think I do. After all, I am not that bad. Am I?" I look over to the meticulously arranged spices on the marbled counter, so different from the place she brought me forth, her mind. That place was a dungeon, this however looked like she fought for control. An awful noise broke through the peaceful atmosphere, incessant ringing making me instinctively cover my ears to protect it. 

   She reached for the source tucked underneath her satin pillow, water drops trickling down her arms making tiny splashes on the granite floor. 

  "Hello," She said into a rectangular shaped device. My keen fae hearing picked up a male voice, arrogant and disrespectful. I knew him, the same condescending voice that echoed in her mind. The reason why she didn't believe in happily ever afters. I also knew how the conversation would go so I downed the beer left in the bottle, chugging the now bitter liquid. No longer the refreshing drink. The kittens too sensed her discomfort, they rubbed themselves against her bare legs and she bent down to give them a pet. 

  "So you want a vanilla ending," Roseline dropped herself on her bed, patting an empty space beside her. I plopped myself next to her, "Vanilla? No! I don't want a vanilla scented ending. I don't want an ending at all." 

  "Is that the reason why you are here? To plead a happy ending? Sythaerin! I thought you were more then that,"

  "More than what?"

  "More than someone who just wants a sappy love story," 

  "Just because you pretend not to believe or want  a sappy love story doesn't mean your characters do too," 

  "I don't want a sappy love story," she says with a smile but her voice is sharp,eyes dark and her jaws clenched.

  "I live in your mind Rose, I know it," getting up from the bed I pace around the room. Her deep browns follow my path across the room for a few moments and then she whips out the rectangular device. 

  "Alright, What do you want?" She asks tapping furiously on the illuminated screen. 

  "For starters, change my name. What kind of name is Sythaerin. It sounds so evil." I place in my first demand.

  "You are evil, and I happen to quite like the name so, no."

  I run my fingers on her bookshelf, the chipped wood in some places slightly digging into my flesh, nothing I can't heal myself of. The top most row is filled with gold momentos and framed portraits, a fair share of decorative glass containers filled with liquid dot the top row. 

  "Anything else?" She asks me, still staring at the rectangular device.

  "Make her mine," I tell her.