I

"What's your name?" She knew it was a stupid thing to say, especially seeing as this man wanted absolutely nothing to do with her, and she halfway expected him to disappear, to morph back into the shadows as if he were one with them.

"Raphael," he admitted, somewhat reluctantly. "Raphael Santiago."

"Santiago," she repeated absently. "as in savior, or saint?"

Raphael's stare was like glass now, hard and steely, like a layer of clear ice on a frozen lake. "Excuse me?"

"Your name. Santiago. In Spanish, it translates to savior, or in some forms of the language, saint."

"Yo estoy lejos de un santo. I am far from a saint, nor have I ever been anyone's savior."

//