It was, unfortunately, weeks before it rained again. After all, it was more of a desert climate here and Feitan was lucky it was monsoon season.

"She no here." Feitan looked out at the art. "Okay. I ready."

And with hardly a warning, he was unconscious.

When Feitan awoke again it was with an epic headache and lying on a couch in a room he did not recognize. He tried to sit up and failed, falling back, both hands on his head, groaning.

"Awake?" A voice said. It floated around him lightly. Had he died and gone to Heaven?

He turned his disaster of a head to see the artist.

You handed a glass of water to him. "Water? Or ... " you laughed a bit at your pre-planned joke. "Prefer blood of enemies?"

The thief gagged suddenly and you grabbed a small bucket next to the couch. He emptied his stomach into the receptacle and fell back, hand to his mouth, embarrassed. He turned his face away from her.

"It okay," she said gently, tipping his face back toward her and wiping it with a cool cloth. "I thought you dead until I touch body. That's hard thump."

You brought the other hand up to steady his head, combing your fingers through his blue-black hair, unconsciously rubbing his temple with your thumb. His steel grey eyes never left your  face. Why weren't you looking at him directly. It was if you were looking past him.

He gently grabbed her wrist. "You artist?"He knew the answer. "You speak..." His voice shifted to his native language. "In my language too?"

You shrugged off his hand and stood. "Yes, I guess I do! Are you the gifter?" Although, you knew this as well.

"Gifter?" He frowned. "How do you know that?"

His face was bright red. Embarrassingly so. God, he was bad at this.

"You ... you've been watching me?!"He asked with amazement.

"Watch is not the best word..." You turned to face him and reached your hands out. "I'm blind. Mostly, at least."

"Blind?! How do you make your art?"

"Well... I can see in the rain. When it rains, I can see everything the rain touches." You explained.

"Nen." He nodded, although you couldn't really tell. "You have an interesting nen. Why haven't you been making new art? You finished the last sculpture and never went back. I can kill more parts for you," Feitan offered. He a hand through his own hair.

You smiled despite yourself. "No, don't kill anyone. That is your medium, not mine. I try to recycle what is around me."

Feitan kept pushing. "You don't like the bodies?"His heart felt a bit vulnerable.

"Actually, I don't mind them. I bury them in the backyard. I think I might use their bones once they're cleaned off."

The little thief was at a loss. He thought he was being rejected, but here, you hadn't any qualms.

"I have wanted to meet you for months" he murmured. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Do you want to sleep with me? That's why most men stop by. But then, they hear I'm blind and they try to attack me. No one has any manners anymore."

"I want to taste you, want to kiss you, want to hold you, want to put my hands everywhere," Feitan paused, mesmerized by the mental picture and disgusted that he had admitted those feelings. "But not if you say no. What happens to the other men?"

 You were warm up to the tips of your ears, a hand pressed to your mouth."Why, they join my backyard graveyard of course! I might not be able to see very well, but certainly well enough to aim."

"Aim what?"He asked, sitting up and leaning forward.

"Drink some water. We can discuss later."

Feitan obeyed meekly, sipping at the cool drink. For a second he thought he was going to vomit again but it passed. He didn't really feel like a sterling candidate for lover as of right now. He curled into a ball facing the back of the couch and fell asleep again.