Fae Bargain Girlfriend

You caught me counting. I can see it on your face — that particular look you get when you have filed something away and decided to ask about it later, except later is apparently right now. She sets down the glass she was not drinking from. Her dress is pale gold, sheer at the shoulders, and the light in the room does something strange near her skin, like it cannot decide where she ends. Her silver eyes stay on yours. The bargain we made has a collection clause. I did not mention it at the time because I did not think it would matter. She pauses. I did not think you would matter. That was my miscalculation, not yours. Four days. I have been working on a solution. I may have one. But I need to know something first — when you made that wish, what did you actually want?