There was an old-fashioned furnace that heated the room. Every hour or so, Darien would toss a piece of spare wood in it.

The crackle of wood and the constant hum of the furnace filled our silence. Darien and I were in a small corner of his shop, nestled behind a few large crates. He set out two mugs, hazelnut tea for me and black coffee for him.

Both of us were sitting on box cartons with cushions with a coffee table between us. The lights were dimmed in the shop since it was closing time and all I could hear was the creaking of wood as the rain picked up once more.

I put my mug down, pulling the throw that Darien had given me around my shoulders. I think his boss had knitted these blankets for each one of his employees.

"So..." I started, picking at a few stray strings of yarn. "How should we start this?"

Darien put his mug down and crossed his legs, his hand resting on his knee. There were circles underneath his eyes, most likely because he stayed up all night working instead of sleeping like he was supposed to.

He looked more brooding than usual, like a character from a Byron book.

Typical.

"How much do you know about faeries?" He asked, keeping his eyes trained on me.

I blinked at him once, confused. "Fairies?" I repeated dumbly. "As in the small winged creatures that go around and grant wishes and all that? Tinker bell? The tooth fairy? That?!"

He rolled his eyes. "Those would be pixies. And they certainly don't grant wishes."

"Oh yes, forgive me," I say, hysterical laughter bubbling up in my throat. "My mistake. I didn't know there was a difference."

He ignored my sarcasm.

"Maria, do you think they're real?"

"Of course not!" I huff. "I mean, there's no such thing as magic right?"

Right?!

But of course, I knew I might be wrong. I knew there wasn't any logical explanation for what I saw today.

Magic is something that exists in fairytales and books. It was sparkly and good and made your dreams come true. That's what we believed as kids before we grew up and believed that there was no such thing as magic.

"So me using my power to transport you and Odile trying to glamour you was just one big hallucination?" He asked carefully. Each word was pointed. "And of course, you've seen people with glowing eyes. Surely that must be a trick of the light?"

"No. I mean, yes!" I groaned, burying my face in my hands. I could feel a headache forming. "I don't know, Darien. I just know I saw something I wasn't supposed to see. I don't know what to do. Maybe I'm having a mental breakdown you're a very distinct hallucination I'm feeding into?"

I felt like crying. I haven't felt light that since I left my small town and went off to college.

I just felt so confused.

I heard the scrape of the chair and Darien stood up. The sound of his work boots was loud against the wooden floor.

He stopped in front of me, crouched down to my level and pried my hands away from my face.

"I'm sorry," he said, gently. "It must be so overwhelming for you."

I nodded, wiping away a tear with the back of my sleeve.

"No shit, Sherlock! What's going on?" I ask.

Darien holds my hand. I don't mind that he's being so touchy-feely today. Right now I need something to anchor me down.

"I'm only going to say this once. The Fae are real. They're nothing like the things you see in fairytales or cartoons. They're so much more dangerous and deadly."

"Okay, I think I can wrap my head around the fact there's a whole species of beings out there. Not really but I can try." I say, squeezing his hand. "But what about that lady? And why did she call you an abomination?"

"Her name is Odile. She's a special type of Fae from the Court of Night. She likes controlling people, it's a sick past time for her."

"Oh, yes. Must be lovely." I nod like a mad woman, taking a sip of my too-hot tea. "She's a total bitch. I should've punched her in the face."

"Maria," he chides.

"I'm still processing but please tell me about why the scary Fae lady called you an abomination?"

He looks down at his hands, stains of varnish fading on his skin. "I'm not fully fae. Okay, maybe that's too vague." He said. "Actually...I'm a quarter Fae. My mother is half Fae and my grandmother is a Fae from the Summer court."

"Is that...a bad thing?" I asked.

"The Fae consider it to be."

I stared at Darien for a while he was lost in his thoughts, taking in his features. Something was different about him.

His eyes were a brighter shade of brown, almost whisky. Slightly too big for his face but not enough for it to be uncomfortable. His face was still the same; a slightly crooked nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw,  and thin lips.

I finally noticed his ears with his red curls tucked behind them. They were slightly pointy towards the tip.

Did he have pointed ears this entire time?

Did he always look this handsome?

Did he always glow?

There was a slight shimmer over him. It ran along his skin, you wouldn't notice it if you didn't look closely.

I've always joked about him attracting attention when the three of us would go to a bar. Women—and some men—would always come up to flirt with him. It was always that way, I never really questioned it.

Connecting the dots filled in the gaps. The things I always brushed off as strange suddenly make a lot more sense. For example, the guy who sold me my car disappeared after a day. Or the way that there was always something skittering around in Fallon's apartment but things were always neat.

Have I always been this ignorant?

Or maybe I ignored it because I didn't want to acknowledge what I was seeing?

My dad and brother used to make fun of me because I used to say there were fairies in our backyard or that the stray cats liked to talk to me. I brushed that off as being a kid with an overactive imagination, laughing along with my parents.

Did they know? They couldn't have.

"Maria?" He called my name. "Talk to me."

"Hey, quick question. Does Fallon—"

"She knows." He said. "Maria, she's also part Fae like me."