a/n For the one who begged 'Please do another SebastianX OC!' Here you are.

...

"Please tell me you aren't up here to talk me out of it," I said as the man came up out of the dark stairway and onto the roof.

"Not at all."

I turned to look at him through the darkness. Tall, marathon runner's build. If only someone like this would've paid attention to me while I still... "Well then what are you up here for? Not to look at the stars, surely."

"No indeed. There's none to be seen through the city lights in any case."

"You really aren't..." I looked down. There was no ambulance, no police cars anywhere around the building that I could see. "Then what are you up here for?"

"To help you. "

"But you said—"

"Despair is something I can taste on the wind, you see. I was over by Nelson's Column and caught a whiff of your intentions. No sense wasting it when it could do me a bit of good, is there?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Funny. I know you didn't mean it that way, but it is, nonetheless."

"Look, the last thing I need right now is some gobsh—"

"My intent in coming up here, as I said before, was not to stop you or talk you out of it, but to help you. To help you achieve what you came up here to do."

"Do you make a habit of this sort of thing?!"

"I do, in fact."

"Making fun of desperate people!"

"No, making leaving the desperation behind a bit easier. It's always easier if someone else has their finger on the trigger, don't you think?"

" WHAT?!"

"Metaphorically, darling. I didn't come up here to shoot you. Far too messy, and anyway I haven't a weapon on me."

I collapsed against the parapet, my heart thundering.

"It's odd, isn't it? One decides to end it all, and yet still, get the suspicion that someone else might be about to attack you and your adrenaline shoots through the roof and you break out in a sweat, ready to defend yourself... it's human instinct I suppose." He turned and looked out over the city lights. "I mean, so I surmise. I wouldn't really know."

I stared hard at him then. Eventually he turned and stared back with a grin.

"That's right. That's exactly what I meant, I wouldn't know because I'm not... you know, one of you."

"Great. Stuck on a rooftop with a nutter."

"Well what's the worst that could happen? You were already going to jump."

That made me laugh, for some reason. "Yeah. S'pose so."

"So do you still want to?"

I looked down. It seemed even further away than the last time I looked. "I do, but the longer I stand up here looking down the more scared I get."

"So given a choice, would you rather I help you repair the situation or give you a painless exit?"

"I don't think there's anything you could do."

"You don't know what I can do. You don't know what I am."

"No. I don't." I turned to look at him. A man who looked that good would never give me the time of day. "I know what you look like: you look like you're too handsome to be bothering with a plain girl like me."

"Ah, but that's only what you can see. Try closing your eyes and using other senses."

"I may want to die, but not by taking my eyes off a nutter and getting tossed off a roof, thank you very much." He laughed.

"Well then, don't close your eyes, but look at my feet and try and forget what your eyes are telling you for a minute. Use your other senses and tell me what you think then."

"Well, okay..." I did as he suggested with a crooked grin on my face, not expecting—well, anything. But something strange happened: vertigo. Darkness shot with hot red streaks that seemed to suddenly rush up and over and engulf me. I shouted out some wordless noise before I realised I'd done it and when I looked up I was on my bum on the rooftop and he was right in front of me and had his hands on my shoulders. I shouted again for him to get away and scooted backwards, smacking my back into the parapet.

"It's okay, really. I was only trying to help you up. Do you need a hand?" He reached toward me. I batted his hands away, not sure yet just what had happened, but determined not to have him touch me again. "I'm sorry. It's just... it's the quickest way to help people stop trusting what they're eyes are telling them, the quickest way to make you understand you might have some options before you that you never before thought possible."

"L-like?" I stammered, still shaken but ready to listen now.

"Whatever drove you up here, if I could save the situation for you, make it right, would you want that? Or are you too tired? I promise you I will understand if you are simply too tired to keep trying."

I stared at this man standing before me. Maybe he was something other than just what he appeared to be. Though a handsome guy, I had to admit there was something... something quite apart from the rushing vertigo thing that seemed very strange to me about him. For one thing his eyes were...

"Sorry, but are your eyes red?!"

He laughed. Then with a little lopsided grin he lifted a hand and turned it palm up. Immediately flames burst up from his palm and hung there a few inches above his hand, consuming nothing but burning steadily just the same. "Well, you tell me, Amber," he said.

"How did you..." I started to ask how he did the flames, then hw he knew my name but then the light caught his eyes and I forgot everything else. The flames showed them up: they were the reddest irises, set in the palest face I'd ever seen. And his hair was black, dead black. Asian black, but with iridescent highlights like a n oil slick or a blackbird's feathers. Thick black eyelashes and high arching brows like bird wings—I'd never seen anything quite like this man before in my life. He was exquisite; he was perfect. It was the face of an angel—an angel with devil-red eyes. Before I realised I was doing it my fingers were touching his pale cheek and his other hand, the one not juggling flames wrapped around mine and pressed my palm onto his cheek. His other hand made a snatching gesture and the flames disappeared.

"By any chance do you have a policy of avoiding dealings with red-eyed men you happen to meet on rooftops?" he asked.

"Erm, not... as such, no."

"Well then, that's lucky." I could hear the smile in his voice. He was certainly charming, whatever else he was—or was not.

"So, you were about to tell me whether you'd be interested in restoration or retreat."

"Patch things up or piss off, y'mean?"

"Tch. The language ladies use these days."

"Ha. I'm no lady," I laughed but then sighed thinking about the situation I'd left behind in my flat below. "I am tired, though. And you said you could help, yeah?"

"You know, it used to be in situations like this what people were worried about was their immortal souls: 'if I commit suicide will I go to hell and burn forever' is what they were always afraid of. These days it seems they only fear the pain. Would you like to leave if you could do it painlessly, Amber?"

"Yeah. I don't believe in all that heaven n' hell shite me mum was always on about."

"How strange," he said, heaving a big sigh and staring down at the traffic again. "Well, if that is what you wish I can give you that, a great deal less painfully than leaping off this roof into traffic down there." We were quiet together for a bit, each thinking our own thoughts.

"Could I see the flame thing again?"

"Certainly." It surely was a pretty face he had. I just wanted to see it again. Thought it would be a nice thing to see as my last look. The flames leaped up again. He somehow left them bobbing in the air this time, seeming to decide he had better uses for his hands.

"How would you do it?"

"A kiss. That's painless enough, don't you think?"

"You're not going to slip a knife in me gits when I'm not looking?"

"Dear me. Do I look like I'd do something like that?"

"Looks don't mean nothing. Anyway, you don't look like any man I've ever seen before so how would I know what you might or might not do?"

"Learned your lesson, did you," he said with a slow grin. "I shall put both hands on your shoulders and keep them there, if you'd like, so unless you suspect me of hiding another hand somewhere..."

"Are you?"

"No," he laughed. I stood there thinking about it for a moment, feeling stupider and stupider as the moments passed.

"No. It's okay, you don't need to."

"Well then: shall I put out the light now?"

"Yeah, yeah I like the dark."

"So do I, Amber," he said as he dowsed the flame and put his hands on me: big warm hands, around my neck and behind my waist, stepping in warm and close and tipping up m—