She grinned a beautiful grin. Her teeth gleamed like diamonds, her eyes like sapphires. She glided through the falling snow as if a snowflake herself. Wrapped in a white jacket, her long, white-blonde hair falling in perfect waves around a porcelain face, he had never seen anything like her. Enamored with the first glimpse, his heart ached an unobtainable ache, yet still there he was staring, caught in the spell of an angel.
"Good morning." Her voice, oh sweet symphony of smoothly, gilded bells! He gulped down his nerves. "Good morning," he answered in a voice that contrasted the sweetness to such an extent, chills slithered up the backs of his legs. She laughed, an even sweeter, softer chime than before. His mind had melted. His eyes were stuck. "May I sit down?" The young man, startled at the realization he was still in the white-covered park, nodded his head quickly and slid over on the black bench.
She sat down with the elegance of a lady, a sight he was neither accompanied nor opposed to. She rubbed her hands together and blew on her pink fingertips. He noticed the soft, subtle polish on her nails. He examined his own hands. Rough, callused, and trodden from years of overuse with little recompense. The scent of vanilla fought arduously for conquest with his own odor, a sweet mixture of sweat and mud. Alex cringed. He could almost smell the construction site, his life of six years.
"I didn't think it'd be this cold." The young man, he went by the name of Alex, was immediately broken from his trance as he told himself the words were directed towards him.
"Oh!" Clumsily, he ripped off his jacket and wrapped it around the slim shoulders of the beautiful, young lady. She smiled innocently, almost surprised by the gentlemanly act. Almost. She nodded her head in gratitude and continued to blow on her delicate, reddening fingers. She did so in a way that implied she'd done so many times before, but Alex failed to realize her skill. He was too entranced by her beauty to realize his fate.
"May I ask your name?"
The young woman's pale cheeks reddened softly at the question, a beautiful soft, subtle red. Indeed, she'd perfected the shade. She slowly turned her head to face him, casting the poor soul under her spell even more. "Daphne Lecombe. Yours?"
"Alex." He held out his hand. "Alex Reed," he added quickly.
Her teeth gleamed as her smile grew. Was she real? "Nice to meet you, Mr. Reed." She took his hand in hers and gave it a soft squeeze. Though her skin was chilled with the bitterness of winter, Alex's body was flushed with an enveloping warmth. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Lecombe, but you can call me Alex."
"Okay. Nice to meet you, Alex."
He nodded his head nervously. "Nice to meet you, Daphne." He couldn't help it. He stared. He had never seen such a beautiful creature. She seemed to be of an entirely separate species. Alex felt the week-old dirt under his fingernails, the poorly stitched holes in his tattered layers, the grease in his thick, unkept hair. Yet here she was, this elegant maiden talking with him, smiling at him as if he were the knight in her fairy tale. So he took another breath and trudged on through battle as any honorable knight does. "You have no gloves?"
Daphne shook her head, her loose, wavy hair bouncing around her shoulders. "I live just outside the park in the Montleroy Apartments. I just felt like a walk." She sighed and looked around the white wonderland in innocent nostalgia. "It's beautiful outside," she whispered. It sent Alex's body into spasms. She knew just how to. "It's always so beautiful."
The Montleroy Apartments, Alex thought to himself. He shook his head, cursing his own fortune. One night was worth a month in his. The void widened between the two, almost engulfing Alex whole, but Daphne seemed not to notice. "Would you like to walk with me? It's frightfully cold on this bench, and I could use a companion."
Alex's brow furrowed in complexion. "Me?"
She grinned again at his expression, her soft laugh echoing around the two of them like a flurry of snow. "Only if you'd enjoy it."
"Yea." Alex nodded his head quickly. "Yes," he corrected. "I'd love to." He stood up from the bench with as much composure as he could muster. He held his hand down for Daphne who took it in perfected delicacy. Her tiny hand felt weightless in his. Alex immediately became aware of the calluses on his skin, but Daphne didn't mind. The strong roughness was entirely new to her.
And the two walked. They walked for some time, talking and laughing about things neither had talked or laughed about with another. Daphne's head titled back just enough as she laughed so her long hair bounced effortlessly against Alex's coat. Alex's lack of refinement only encumbered him shortly. Onlookers gazed upon the couple gliding through the crisp, fallen snow, delighted in the strange company. The assumption was made they were only of the highest finesse. The sweet odor was forever forgotten.
Soon they were the only ones left in the park, though neither really noticed. A golden glow had set on the snow. The temperature dropped with each minute. Daphne snuggled further into Alex's heavy jacket around her shoulders. It smelled sweetly of soot. She had never smelled such a scent, and yet she'd never felt so warmed. Her slightly freckled nose reddened with cold. She checked her watch and gasped, "Oh, look at the time!"
"Would you look at that," Alex chuckled, but he was only trying to think of a way to see the beautiful girl again. He toed the snow with his stained brown boots.
Daphne began removing Alex's jacket. "I have to get going. Thank you--"
"No." Alex softly pushed the jacket back onto her shoulders. "Keep it. In case you'd like to walk again."
Daphne smiled and nodded her head. "Okay." She was turning to leave when suddenly she spun around in the snow and faced Alex. "My apartment number is 113." Neither said a word. "Just in case you have no plans for tonight,"
"I don't."
"7 o'clock."
"I'll be there."
"Okay." Daphne smiled before turning and walking away, gliding through the snow as the golden sun set just perfectly above the angel clad in white. Alex stood in the snow in awe, speechless and unmoving. Even when she'd disappeared behind the wrought iron gate and across the street to the Montleroy Apartments, Alex stood staring at the spot she'd only just stood, her tiny feet imprinted in the snow, and wondered if it'd all been a terrible, wonderful dream.
It was dark along her streets. No cars drove. The roads were icy, the air bitter. Yet there he was, walking along the cold pavement to 113 Montleroy. The apartment towered over him ominously. During the day, the apartments bestowed a sense of attainable wonder to the passerby as if from the street he could actually see himself in the window of that particular apartment, sipping his morning coffee, reading the local paper, worrying about problems only people at the top of the Montleroy Apartments seemed to worry about. But at night, the attainable wonder was replaced by an awe-filled trepidation.
The apartment was larger than any he'd seen before, but as any man with a plagued heart would do, Alex climbed the cement steps to the front door. It was a dark red like blood, gilded along the edges and doorknob. He knocked once, just barely, almost a tap, when immediately the door flew open.
"Oh, good evening," he greeted the house keeper. He'd never had a house keeper of his own, neither had his friends. She was short and stout. Age creeped along the edges of her face and the roots of her dark hair. Her eyes were hollowed and grey from time, but even so, there was a young air about her. Alex grinned at the sight. "Is Daphne home?" The woman nodded her head. She opened the door wider, allowing Alex in. "Great then." He shivered as he stepped into the apartment. The housekeeper quickly shut the door behind him. For a moment, Alex thought he'd heard the click of a lock, but he pushed the thought aside. She ushered his jacket off and hung it on the rack behind him. She noticed his thick, dark curls were long and disheveled, though it looked as if he'd tried to tame them unsuccessfully. He was lean and strong, the build of a worker, and his eyes were innocent of all evil. The housekeeper's heart began to race. 
"Lovely home," Alex said as he looked about, and it was. The house was decorated in dark ebony with hues of dark red and glimmering gold. He had never seen a home so elegant. His eyes followed a spiral staircase that ascended into the night. He saw the shadow of a light at the top and smiled at the thought of Daphne, his beautiful, loving Daphne. "Is it just the two of you who live here?"
The woman nodded her head. "Just the missus and I," she replied in a harsh, southern drawl. Her voice was as aged as she. She seemed to have seen everything in the world but could live to see everything else. "What is your name, son?"
"Alex. Alex Reed." He extended his hand for her to shake, but she only smiled a soft, solemn smile and turned away down the high-arched hallway.
"Miss Daphne will be down in just a bit," she called back. "Until then, you may wait in the dining room." So Alex followed.
"I don't believe I ever got your name, ma'am," he said as he followed her. His eyes roamed over the magnificent home. It was simple and elegant, exactly like Daphne. His eyes were suddenly drawn to a particular wall.
The housekeeper turned around and stared at the boy quizzically. None had ever asked her name before. "Nannie," she replied dubiously. "You may call me Nannie."
"Well, Nannie, this house is very beautiful."
She nodded her head, accepting the strange compliment. She saw where his eyes had roamed and walked towards him. "The missus' family." Alex noticed that in the many frames and paintings hanging along the wall, not one man could be found. "She comes from a long line of strong women."
Alex nodded his head, staring at each strong picture, each strong generation. Finally he came to the most recent. At first, you see because the resemblance was just so uncanny, at first he believed he was looking at Daphne herself.
"Mrs. Natalia," Nannie said rashly. "Her mother."
Alex cocked his head to the side and stared curiously at the picture. "Looks just like her."
Nannie nodded her head. "She looks just like all of them," she whispered softly. And she did. It wasn't just an uncanny resemblance.
"She's beautiful. She's very beautiful," he whispered to himself, though Nannie heard. Her heart ached suddenly. She hadn't felt it ache like that since the early days, since the beginning. She didn't miss the feeling. It gnawed at her like a hungry dog, a beast, begging to be let out of its cage. "Is her mother still alive?"
Nannie shook her head. "No sir, died in a fire when she was very young."
"I'm sorry to hear that. She was probably a lovely woman." Nannie nodded her head, but her mind was elsewhere. Her eyes stared at the boy's heart. Alex sighed contently and turned away from the wall of frames. He smiled at Nannie who could only offer him the smallest hint of a grin. "So, should we go to the dining room?" he asked. She nodded and led him further through the house. She could tell he was different from the others, and for that she pitied him. He didn't deserve to be there.
"Wow." The dining room was as grand as the house itself. Two ebony walls lie on the east side while two large, open crystal windows facing the park made up the west. Curtains as dark red as the door draped long like capes, as if ready to swallow the room and all the secrets hidden behind it. A dark wooden table stretched across the room and sat atop a rich, red rug. Golden plates, glasses, and candles sat easily upon the wood. But the most extraordinary sight of all had to have been the chandelier. It loomed over the table like a beautiful god, black as night. But instead of lights, it had keys of all shapes and sizes hanging from its wiry grasp. "That's a very," Alex paused, "cool chandelier."
Nannie gulped softly. Alex didn't see her eyes grow hazy as she stared at the chandelier and each unique key. Her heart ached even more. It ached for the truth. It ached to save. "It's been in the family for generations," she whispered softly. Her voice was failing her. Alex nodded his head. He began to speak to her, but Nannie couldn't hear him. She could only hear her heart beating ferociously inside her chest, pounding against her ribs like a prisoner in jail. "You shouldn't be here," she finally said. Alex quit talking and stared at the woman. Had he heard her correctly? Her eyes were focused on the chandelier, but her words were directed to him as she shook her head and repeated, "You shouldn't be here. You need to leave."
"Leave?" His face fell as he stared at the woman. "Why? She invited me here--"
"She'll steal your key and then where will you be?"
"Steal my key? What are you--"
"Nannie!" The two of them both turned their heads at the chime of the beautiful bells--one in glee, one in horror. "Nannie!" it called again. So innocent, so sweet, so skilled. "Nannie, where is my scarf?" Suddenly, Alex heard the sound of high heels gently tapping along the polished wood. "Oh, Alex!" she squealed surprised as she entered the room. She smiled her sweet smile as she laughed, "I'm so sorry I'm late. I didn't realize the time." She spun around, her long hair flailing around her like a halo, as she looked around for Nannie.
At the sight of Daphne's glistening smile, Alex forgot the old woman standing beside him. He forgot her words. He forgot her warnings. He only had room in his mind for Daphne's smile, you see. That was the curse of being such a simple man. "I hope it hasn't been any trouble for you."
Alex shook his head quickly and rubbed the back of his neck. His cheeks blushed scarlet. "No, no. None at all."
Daphne turned to face Nannie giddily. "We can start dinner now. Bring out the appetizers." Nannie averted her eyes from Daphne and ushered herself into the kitchen. Once Nannie disappeared behind the swinging door, Daphne turned to a patient, simple Alex. It was so different. "Please." She extended her hand for Alex to sit.
Alex never took his eyes off Daphne as he sat down. "You look stunning." And she did. Her white jacket had been replaced with a long, strapless black dress. Her light hair still fell effortlessly around her porcelain skin, laying atop her prominent collarbones and soft chest like the snow upon the park ground outside. But her lips were what caught his full attention. They were dark red, as if she'd just coated them with the same thick, red paint as the front door. And when she smiled, her eyes gleamed brighter than the stars watching upon the two unknowing strangers.
"Thank you, Alex. As do you." Alex adjusted his shirt just slightly. Daphne laughed her soft, timeless laugh.
And the two ate and drank merrily through the night. Their glasses never seemed to fall empty, their plates were always filled with food, and the conversation never lulled. It was an extraordinarily extravagant sight. And though the two were at opposite ends of the table, there seemed to be no distance between them. But never once did Nannie lay eyes on poor Alex again, and never once did Alex lay eyes on her. He only had eyes for Daphne. Daphne, who made such beauty look effortless. Daphne, this goddess, this Queen. He believed he'd never see another like her, and his belief was true. She moved and spoke with delicate grace, never faltering even slightly. The perfection was almost terrifying, but Alex enjoyed every moment of it. He wondered how a simple man like him had managed to sneak into this realm without the slightest question from the majesty herself.
Then finally dinner was over. The final sip of wine was sipped, the final bite of food was bit. Daphne placed her napkin on the table as Nannie collected the plates.
"I really enjoy your company, Alex." Daphne smiled as she took a sip of her wine. "Tell me, do you enjoy mine?"
Alex nodded his head quickly. "Yea-yes," he corrected. Daphne laughed. "Yes," he said again. "Absolutely."
The air grew quiet for the smallest of moments. "You know," Daphne twirled her glass delicately, allowing the thick, red wine to swirl in the bright crystal, "you don't have to correct yourself, Alex," she said. She cocked her head to the side and gave him an encouraging smile. "I don't mind." And she didn't. She found herself enjoying the strangeness. 
"You don't mind my lack of schooling?" he said with a laugh, but Daphne heard the belittlement. 
She shook her head as if the idea had never crossed her mind. "It's refreshing." Alex stared at her from across the table, and for the first time in their meeting, Alex noticed Daphne resembled a puppy, kicked and broken, left on the side of a busy highway by a man much larger and stronger than her.
"I will then, if you want."
Daphne grinned. If I want. The words were graciously accepted. When Nannie came back into the room, Daphne called to her as if she were a little girl at her birthday party, "Bring me my special bottle." She turned her gaze upon Alex ecstatically. "A night this special deserves a toast!" Alex could only smile in shocked pride.
So Nannie, slower than usual, brought out the bottle. She handed it to Daphne whose beautiful face lit up immediately at the sight. She clapped her hands together and looked up at Nannie so innocently. So innocently, she looked like the small child she used to be, innocent of all stains, bare of all burns, free of all blames. Nannie almost cried. "Thank you, Nannie. That'll be all for tonight." Nannie nodded her head and left the room, averting her eyes from Alex as best she could. "Now," Daphne said, breaking Alex's gaze from the retreating Nannie, "you have to try this wine. I've been told it's like sipping the heavens."
"I guess I could go for a sip then," Alex replied easily.
Daphne smiled wide and quickly got up from her seat with her glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. As she walked Alex noticed she seemed to be gliding over the floor effortlessly until she sat ever so perfectly on the corner of the table beside him. And for the first time that night, Alex felt his body ache at the unnatural sight. 
"Do you try to do that?"
Daphne shook her head softly and stared curiously. "Do what?"
"The walk and," he paused, "everything, I guess." He shrugged and stared at her admiringly. It was obviously meant to be a compliment. "Do you try?" Daphne didn't say anything at first. She sat silently, perched upon the corner of the table like a trophy--a silent, characterless trophy. "You don't have to," Alex finally interrupted. "I don't mind."
Daphne remained still for a moment more. Then she remembered the warm bottle in her hand and forced herself to forget his words. So she turned to Alex and smiled a soft, fleeting smile. As the smile disappeared, so did the words.
"To us," she whispered as she poured Alex and herself a small glass. A sip was all she needed. She lifted up her glass.
Alex followed. "To us," he repeated. He moved the glass to his lips and at the touch of the wine, his mind seemed to spin in a happy daze. He began to put the glass down, but Daphne pushed the glass back to his lips, urging him to drink. Her sapphire gaze never left his, and Alex was forced to drink until the very last sip.
Alex was dizzy with excitement. He felt as if he'd really just sipped the heavens themselves, and Daphne in front of him was his angel.
"Good?" the angel asked. He nodded his head quickly, but he was so dizzy, he couldn't get a word out of his mouth. "I really have enjoyed your company," she said to him again.
"I've really enjoyed yours too, Daphne."
Daphne slid her hand onto his and squeezed it ever so slightly. Her fingers glided over his skin. The tingling feeling made his head spin even more. "Tell me, Alex, do you love me?"
Alex stared at her. Of everything that had happened so far, this surprised the simple man the most. What a silly question to ask, he thought to himself. Surely I've heard her wrong.
But as he looked up to question her, his gaze was held hostage by hers again. Her crystal eyes flickered with life, and all he could think about were her eyes. "Yea," he finally said. At first he was surprised by his answer. He shook his head and tried to think, but his mind was still spinning. "Yea," he repeated again, this time more sure. It only seemed right.
Daphne smiled again. Her fingers traveled up his arm. "How long will you love me, Alex?"
Alex was about to answer, his mouth was open and ready, the answer ready, when his eyes left hers and found the chandelier. "That is a really cool chandelier."
Daphne was taken aback. She turned around to see the chandelier. For a moment, she'd grown quite angry. Never had this happened before, but she composed herself as all ladies do. It was a necessary skill learned she'd gained at quite a young age. She took a deep breath and nodded her head. "It's been in my family for generations. It's my most prized possession."
"I don't mean to pry," he continued. Daphne was growing weary. "But where did you get all of the keys?"
Daphne smiled happily at the question, though this smile was different from the others. It was so absurdly sweet, it was sinister. "Over the years. You see, my family used to collect keys," she purred. Her fingers continued to glide. "All shapes and sizes, though they all had preferences."
"What kind of keys are they?" Alex asked, allowing his curiosity to speak for himself. If only his curiosity could've noticed the signs.
Daphne's fingers snaked over his hand, trying to regain his attention. "My mother used to say they were the keys to the hearts my family had stolen. And once the keys were stolen, they could never love anyone but the thief."
Alex stared at the chandelier. The keys spun softly in the air, tinkling loudly in the silence of the house. "Your mother sounds like quite the lady," Alex chuckled softly.
Daphne looked at the chandelier, and for just a moment, a moment of a moment, her shoulders dropped, and she let out a heavy sigh. "I know."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Daphne," Alex said quickly upon realizing her demeanor. He placed his hand over hers, hard over soft, rough over smooth. "I didn't mean to pry. I was just curious, that's all."
Daphne shook her head. "It's fine." She wondered if it was all worth it. She wondered if she still had it in her. She stared at the man in front of her, the man she'd stumbled upon in the park. The man with the messy, brown hair. The man with the rough, callused hands. But at the sight of the keys, she knew she still could. She always could. She always would. The fire returned. The power flourished in her fingers. The flicker returned to her eyes. She turned back to Alex. She ignored his sympathy. "I don't mind. I like telling you things about myself," she said happily.
"You do?"
Daphne nodded her head. She bent down closer to Alex. Immediately, she knew she had him. His hazel eyes grew hazy as he stared into hers, a sight she'd grown far too accustomed too, far too addicted too. Her eyes flickered with delight. Her mouth watered with excitement. Alex was lost. "Do you still love me, Alex?"
Alex's head nodded. "Of course."
"Will you always love me?"
For a moment, he paused. For a moment, Daphne's heart began to worry. And for a moment, Nannie, who'd been peering from behind the swinging door frame, thought he'd won. "Forever." But the moment passed. 
Daphne leaned down to his thin lips. Nannie cringed and turned away. This had always been her least favorite part. Alex watched as the dark red lips approached him. His heart beat out of his chest. His head continued to spin. His body was in total chaos. And at the touch of their lips, Daphne heard the familiar chime of an addition to her chandelier. She didn't even need to look up. She knew the sound all too well.
"He was a good man, Natalia," Nannie said as Daphne skipped into the kitchen. Like a little girl, she thought to herself. A silly, feckless little girl. "Or Daphne or whoever you are now." She threw her hands in the air and let out a loud sigh. "I can't even keep up anymore!"
"Oh please, Nannie," Daphne laughed cynically. She peeled open a small chocolate and rolled her eyes. "There's no such thing." She held the small chocolate between her glimmering teeth as she smiled and swayed side to side, unnerving poor, old Nannie. 
"Well he was," Nannie said, remaining obstinate. She scrubbed the pots more and more excitedly as her rage kindled. 
"If you lived half as long as I have in my life, you'd know that good men don't exist in this world."
"You know just as well as I do that that man was different from the others. He cared about you, Natalia." Natalia only laughed as she finally tossed the small chocolate into her mouth easily. Her apathy enraged poor Nannie. "He didn't deserve that."
"No one deserves anything in this world," Natalia replied simply. "That's something I've come to learn after 189 years in this godforsaken place."
"Men dream to have that."
"Have what?" Natalia snapped. She was as enraged as she was beautiful which made her absolutely terrifying.
"Immortality," Nannie replied. 
Natalia snickered. "Dreams are meant to stay in their place. They serve no use in reality."
Nannie ignored her cynicism. "So what'd you do with this one?"
Daphne crossed her arms and pushed out her bottom lip, undeniably resembling a little girl. "You take all the fun out of my pleasures, sweet Nannie." 
Nannie shook her head, disgusted. "Was it at least humane?"
Natalia grinned the most beautifully terrifying grin Nannie had seen in quite some time. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at the sight. "When am I ever not?"
Nannie stared at Natalia, pitying her as she watched the beautiful girl unwrap another chocolate and toss it carelessly between her ravenous teeth. She was reminded of the many men, tossed so carelessly like the chocolate. She'd grown so sick of the sweet chime of that sinister doorbell and the tinkling of those pathetic keys. "Why do you do it, Natalia?"
Natalia stared bitterly at Nannie. She was out of place. She had no right to ask her these questions. But she remained composed. It was a necessary skill, you remember. "Because, my sweet Nannie," she placed the wrapper on the table delicately and approached the frail woman as if she were the child, "love is only for the dying. And if I'm not dying then I'm bored."
Nannie stopped scrubbing and stared at the girl in front of her. Such beauty wasted upon such evil. There was no remorse, no pity. Only hate lay beyond her walls, hidden behind an innocently, perfect face. She had never known love a single day in her life. "One day, Natalia," Nannie stood tall, "a man is going to steal the key to your heart. And when that happens, I won't be here to help you." Nannie tossed the pot into the sink with a clang, turned off the water, and marched into her quarters.
Natalia stood in the kitchen alone. All was silent, save the soft tinkle of the keys. She laughed a soft, humorless laugh at Nannie's echoing words. She rolled another chocolate between her fingers and grinned at it. "If only I had a heart for someone to do that, Nannie." And she tossed the chocolate between her teeth once again and swallowed easily.
The next day as Natalia brushed her hair in the mirror, she found a grey amongst the bright white-blonde. She lifted it up to her eyes. Never had she seen a hair of that color upon her delicate head. Never had she aged a day. And yet, there it was between her long, delicate fingers. She noticed the subtle pink polish brushed upon her nails. She heard the chime of the newly strung key on the chandelier.