"Prove it. Prove how much you love me!"
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"I won't leave you again, Martín," Andrés says, "I will never leave you."
He grins, bearing his teeth. But it doesn't reach his eyes. His smiles never reach his eyes anymore.
His black eyes. Have they always been so black?
"I know," Martín sighs, taking the patch off his eye. When he covers his other eye with his hand, the room is nothing but a blurry mess. He tries to look at himself in the mirror but it only shows himself jarred and broken. Like those mirrors in the fair.
Andrés however. Andrés is more clear than he had ever been. He stands sharp against the room in his full black attire and his black pits for eyes.
Even the blood oozing out of his body is more red than red had ever been. It's strange how it never darkens and clouts, how it remains so fresh.
"You don't seem too happy about it," Andrés says.
"I am," Martín denies as he takes another look at himself in the mirror. He can see fine with one eye. And he looks powerful in his own full black suit. Beautiful. He smiles at his reflection. "It's all I have ever wanted."
"Prove it, then." Andrés orders. "Prove how much you love me."
Martín closes the door behind him and turns to walk to the grand staircase. Andrés on his side. Always on his side.
"I will," Martín says at last, as he descends the stairs.
He will.
