Sin Eater

3.

Martin woke the following morning, the ritual took a lot out of him. He stretched and rolled out of bed, feeling lighter after his long sleep. His phone boasted multiple missed calls and a few messages from Diana. The man shook his head and called her back, hoping she wasn't already in class.

"Good morning," Diana sang from the other side of the phone, "I was starting to think our date must have been terrible."

"Oh no, no," Martin rubbed his face, still waking up, "Some things came up, I'm so sorry."

"What kind of things?" Diana cooed.

"Just, you know," Martin shook his head, "Some friends needed help."

He was met with silence, just shallow breaths on the other side.

"I think I know exactly what you were doing," Diana whispered, almost afraid.

"Diana?" Martin stood up, "What do you mean? I wasn't seeing anyone-"

"That's not what I mean, Martin," Diana said, "Why don't we meet for coffee tonight?"

She hung up before Martin could reply. Panic rose like bile in the back of his throat. Her voice had been mischievous and sharp and it cut Martin right to the bone. He took a shower, hoping to wash away the anxiety.

By time day graciously descended to evening, Martin was a mess. He grabbed his coat and all but ran from his house to the coffee shop, playing out conversations in his head, hoping this was all some sort of foreplay for her.

Diana sat in a far corner, a smirk on her lips but her hands clutched together so tight Martin could see the white on her knuckles from the counter. He ordered his drink, careful not rush himself too much, trying to play it off. He grabbed his coffee and paced himself as he walked towards his date.

"Hello mysterious," Martin said, relying on his charisma to carry him. The woman smiled.

"Quite the statement coming from you," She replied. Martin's face twisted in confusion.

"I really don't know what you mean Diana."

"Sin eater."

The two words hit Martin like a brick. He stared at the woman, hoping there would be more, trying to keep himself from choking on the accusation.

"That fairytale?" Martin tried to joke but even he could hear the harshness in his voice, throwing the words out like rocks from a child's hand.

"Fairytale?" Diana leaned in, "That fairytale is you! I saw you, I've always wanted to see the sin eater and it's you!"

Martin tried not to look at the excitement on her face. How the light shone from her eyes and the words spilled from her mouth in short breaths. He felt the world spin. Nobody was supposed to know. The Sin Eater's greatest secret was not the sins, but themselves. The public loved the services, hated the servicer. Legends of curses had always surrounded Sin Eater's; don't look in their eyes, don't share a meal, don't speak secrets to them, don't let them touch you. The list went on. And here he was, faced with his own identity from a smart, funny and beautiful woman. Diana stared, waiting,

"Why do you think it was me?" All the fight in Martin escaped him on breath.

"Well," Diana cast her eyes down, obviously embarrassed, "I had a lot of fun with our date, so I thought I'd go to your house and ask you to humor me and wait up to see the sin eater. Instead, who do I see but the sin eater leave your house! I hid of course, but it was you."

Martin kicked himself for his own foolishness. His mother had told him a long time ago to dress in cloaks outside of your home. Change inconspicuously. He had gotten to comfortable. "What do you want?"