by A. M. Hudson
“David, what’s wrong?” I reached out and caught the lukewarm tear on my fingertip. “Why are you sad?”
His grip tightened around my fingers and he placed his other hand on top. “I was so afraid I’d lost you. You can’t know what I’ve been through these past days, Ara. There is no way now to describe the relief I feel that you know about me—and that you’re still here.” He held up our hands, clasped together, and shook them once. “It’s almost like…I am afraid I’ll wake up in a moment and none of this will be real, you—” he touched my face, “won’t be real. If I had lost you—if you had told me I was wrong about our love, that you can never love me for what I am—I would’ve died inside. If I was human, I would have committed suicide.”
My eyes narrowed and my fist clenched with the boiling rage in the pit of my stomach. “How dare you—even think like that?” I huffed and knelt up in front of him. “Suicide? That’s a coward’s choice, David. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”
“Oh, look who’s talking.” He looked up at me. “Do you really think I don’t hear your thoughts, girl?”
My mouth fell open. He’s obviously been listening to me a lot more than I thought. “Those thoughts are private.”
“Not anymore.”
“How dare you.”
“How dare you.” He rose to his knees, becoming taller than me again. “You’re my soul-mate, Ara. I will not let you have thoughts like that. Not ever. Clear?”
“No. Not clear. Those thoughts were private. They were images conjured up in a moment of extreme heartache and loneliness, David—fleeting thoughts—never intentions.”
“So you would never have acted on them?” he asked, looking down at me.
“God no. Never. But you would. That’s the worst part about this. You lecture me, but you—” I stabbed my fingertip into his chest. “You’d take the first express to purgatory if it meant easing your own heartache.”
“If it were possible for me to die—” he held back a smile, “yes.”
“No!” I shook my head. “You don’t get to say that. No matter what happens, no matter what life throws at you, you always have to keep going. I did.” I pressed my palm to my chest. “It hurt me to keep going when Mum died, but what would you be doing if I just gave up when I wanted to, when the pain got too much.”
“Well, it won’t matter what happens to me in our case, because if you stay human, you will never know, will you?”
“No. You can get through it—you can live—find happiness again.”
He shook his head decisively. “I won’t be the same man if I lose you.”
“No one stays the same, David. Everything you are is as a direct result of something that’s affected you in your past, whether it was horrible or wonderful—and no one has the right to destroy themselves because they can’t deal with the pain,” I said. “You have to learn from it. It’s not over—the good in your life—it’s not over until you’re dead.”
He smirked condescendingly. “Pretty passionate about this, aren’t ya?”
“It’s because I’ve been there. I almost crossed that bridge a few times.”
He swallowed hard, becoming suddenly very still. “Will you come to it again when I leave?”
Maybe. “No.” I smiled. “And you won’t, either. Look, I know you can’t die, but you have to promise me that no matter what—” I took both of David’s hands in mine, “—promise me you’ll keep going, and that you’ll try to make your life good again after I’m gone.”
“Do you mean gone as in old-and-grey-dead, or gone as in you’re-not-coming-with-me?”
“Whichever happens.” I shrugged. “You have to be prepared for it, David. What we have is so wonderful, it will always be wonderful, but it might just be a wonderful memory.” I squeezed his fingertips until he looked at me. “Promise me that if I choose to stay human, you will love again—you will keep fighting for happiness.”
David wrapped his wrists around my lower back and pulled me closer. “I am nothing without you. I won’t promise to go on, because it would be a lie.” He kissed my brow. “When you die, when you no longer exist, I will give myself to the monster inside me, Ara. I won’t survive,” he said, then smiled. “You will just have to promise me forever.”
“I want to. But today, I can only promise my forever—not yours.”
He exhaled heavily, then leaned back, and a mischievous grin lit his eyes as he looked into mine. “I’ll make you see reason. I can be very persuasive.”
“And I can be very stubborn.” I kissed his slightly stubbly cheek.
“And that, mon amour, is one of the things I love about you.” He placed his hand over my kiss. “But please, just don’t be too stubborn. I only have until the last leaf turns red and falls from the last tree. Then, I must go.”
“Does…” I swallowed, feeling nerves pinch at my chest. “Does it hurt to be changed?”
We sat back down on the rug, and David pulled me into his chest as he leaned on the rock. I rested against the hollow indent between his ribs, listening to the quiet hum of his breathing. “Yes—it does.”
There’s nothing more to say. A choice has to be made. We can have the summer—it’s our only promise—but eternity will take more consideration.
We sat together in the tranquil serenity of the lake for a while. Then, as my mind wandered over everything we just said, it stopped on one particular inquisition. “Okay, so tell me?” I squinted against the sun as I rolled my face up to look at him. “When exactly did you want to feed from me?”
David laughed and stroked my hair. “It was right here on this spot, actually. The second time we came to the lake. Do you remember it?”
He obviously doesn’t know how clearly I remember everything he and I have ever done together. “When you should’ve kissed me.”
“Yes. It was very stupid of me. Not just because I didn’t kiss you when I had the chance, but because I hadn’t had blood in two days. Which would’ve been fine if it weren’t for these—” he ran his thumb along my lower lip; I closed my eyes, revelling in the tickly sensation. “Then, to make matters worse, I had to contend with your warm, velvet skin, your sweet smelling breath and this.” He placed his hand on my chest, over my heart. “I nearly completely lost control.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but, after that day, I now know what I’m capable of. I need you in my life more than I need nourishment. I’m pretty sure that—” he grinned warmly, “—kissing you shouldn’t be a problem, now.”
“I think I kinda knew.” I laid back against his chest. “I mean, I knew there was some reason you wouldn’t kiss me, but I just never imagined it was because you wanted to bite me.”
He smiled, and kissed my forehead.
“Well,” I mused, “I suppose that’s the best excuse I’ve ever had for a boy not wanting to kiss me.”
“There’ve been others?” David asked, curiosity lifting his tone.
“No, well, one—when I was about five. But that was because of cooties.”
“Hm, yes, cooties. Horrible disease. Caught it once, myself,” he joked.
“Was it from a girl?”
“Well, it wasn’t from a cat, if that’s what you’re asking.” David chuckled and pulled me tighter, kissing my forehead again—like his lips couldn’t get enough of me.
We sat still for a while, quietly listening to the sound of our own thoughts—or maybe just mine. David and I can exist like this, in perfect unity, where the silent whispers of our minds fill the warm space around us.
It will never be uncomfortable—it will never be awkward.
“David?”
“Yes, my love.”
“No matter what I choose, you know I’ll love you for as long as I live, right?”
David held his breath and became still, leaving the only sound to the chirping bird in the canopy above us. “Then, I guess—” he said softly, “I must hope that you will not choose life, because I, sweetheart, am destined
to love you for eternity.”
A darkened summer glow trilled across the southern sky and lit the dusk with a brilliant red. The treetops turned orange first, and then, as the shadow of the night descended into the forest, I could no longer see the lake beside us, but marvelled at the heavens—littered with thousands of brightly twinkling stars.
In this moment, there is no death, no immortality, and farewells are for the unlucky. There is only David and I, and the night—forever.
For my forever.
Chapter Twenty
Leaning my shoulder against the window frame, I watched the sun rise over the hills to the east—the very same hills David ran to when he stole the blue rose. It’s been only four days since I was thrust into the world of the supernatural, but I still feel just as confused. No clarity has come with time passing.
The morning breeze brushed over the trees outside, forcing those below to hold onto their hats and papers a little tighter as they headed into the school. I see them all in a different kind of light, now. Any one of them could be like David. There’s no way of knowing. They all look so normal, so human.
I looked down at my pale white hands and the little blue veins that run under the skin, rising slightly over the bones. My fingers are cold and thin, but long, and soft like a rose petal. These are the hands of a mythological vampire, not David’s; his are warmer than mine, and pink and strong, and they shake a little when he holds them out in front of him for too long. I wonder how much of that is well-rehearsed human behaviour, or really just the way his hands are.
“Morning, beautiful.” David sprung up on my windowsill. I stumbled back, clutching my hand over my chest—trying to stop my heart from leaping out like an alien singing a cabaret song.
“David. You have a habit of popping up when I’m thinking about you.”
“Do I?”
“Mm, but I think you already know that.”
He grinned and kissed my cheek as he stepped into my room and placed a brown paper-bag in my hand. “For the ogre.”
When I opened the bag, the warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafted out in a moist puff. “Afraid I’ll bite you if the ogre gets tempestuous again?”
“Don’t joke—” He pointed at me as he flopped down on my bed. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fallen victim to the wrath of the beast.”
“If you weren’t so irritating, I wouldn’t get so moody with you.” Wearing a grin, I walked over to sit next to him. “You want some?”
He shook his head. “I’ve eaten already.”
“Food or…”
“I missed you last night,” he said softly, stroking my hair away from my face, totally ignoring my question.
“Oh, what? You mean you didn’t sneak into my room?”
“I only do that when I know you’re upset. I would never intrude when you rest peacefully.”
“How would you know I’m peaceful?”
“Well, I always come by to check on you before I go to bed.” He grinned and laid back on my pillow. “I can see where your thoughts are leading you when you dream. Last night, you were dreaming about Mike.” His voice dropped when he said Mike.
“Oh, come on, David! Not you, too?” I walked away from him and flopped onto my desk chair across the room.
“What?” He sat up and looked at me, defensive, but with a half-smile.
“You think I love Mike, too, don’t you?” Now I’m being defensive, but this is getting old. Why doesn’t anyone think I know my own heart—especially my boyfriend?
David’s lips turned up slightly, showing his teeth as he grinned. “So, you remember your dream, then?”
I rolled my eyes and slumped against the backrest. “It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t dreaming about Mike, specifically, just the friendship I had with him, that I now have with you—only that with you, I have so much more.” I tried my hand at dream analysis. “His face was a representation of our relationship, but the body,” I scoffed, motioning to David’s fine chest, “was clearly you.”
David nodded, still smiling, with an edge of mockery in his eyes. “Should I be worried?”
“No,” I said with a mouthful of pastry. “I love you.” I sighed and jumped up to sit in his lap when he responded with a raised brow. “I do love Mike, but it’s a different kind of love. Here?” I took his hand and placed it against my face. “You told me you can see the past if I let you—see for yourself? Read my mind.”
His emerald-green eyes darted over my face. “Really? You’ll let me read your mind?”
“Mm-hm.” I nodded.
With a long breath out, David closed his eyes, and his lips turned up on the corners. “Thank you, Ara,” he whispered, his hand still on my face. “But if you say you don’t love him that way, then I believe you. I don’t need to see it in your memories. Just don’t break my heart, okay?”
“Okay. I promise. Now, can you stop hassling me, and let me get ready for school. We’re gonna be late.” I popped the last bite of pastry into my mouth and kissed David on the lips. “Thanks for breaky, by the way. It was delicious.”
“I imagine it must’ve tasted the way you would,” he said thoughtfully.
“Well, you’ll never know.” I winked at him, then practically skipped into my wardrobe. After I pulled my shirt off and snapped the clasp of my bra behind me, a warm, honest chuckle filled my room. I peeked around the corner. What is he laughing at?
“How old were you in this photo?” David asked, without looking up from the small square sheet in his fingertips.
“Two or three, I think.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess the boy next to you is Mike.”
“Yup, and the reason I’m crying is ‘cause he just tipped a bucket of bathwater over my head.”
David nodded, smiling tenderly at the picture. “Yeah, I kinda gathered that.”
“He used to pick on me all the time, you know.” Not much has changed, really.
“You were a very cute baby.” David slipped the photo back into my bedside drawer where he’d been snooping.
“Yeah, I know. So, what about you?” I headed back to my wardrobe and shimmied into my jeans. “Do you have any baby pictures?” His pause of consideration turned into a long silence, so I stepped back into my room. “David?”
“There were a few.” He nodded, his gaze distant. “My Father was never one for portraits. As Jason and I grew older and would sit for long enough, my uncle had a few done. There may still be one in existence.”
Dad would be fascinated by David—history, firsthand. But David hardly shares anything about his past. I doubt today will be the day for it. I waited, standing in my jeans and bra, in front of David—hoping he’d tell me more. “What happened to your mother?” I asked, and David’s eyes darkened instantly. I covered my mouth with both hands. “I’m sorry—that just slipped out. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, no, Ara, it’s fine. Please,” he took my hand, “come sit with me.” He forced a smile and looked at me, almost as if readying himself for bad news. “I guess I should’ve told you more about myself by now. I mentioned once that my mother died when I was a baby?”
“Yes. Was it childbirth?”
“Yes.”
I clicked my tongue. “Aw, David.”
He shook his head. “It was common for those times, especially with Jason and I being a multiple birth. She simply gave birth, then fell asleep—never woke up again.”
“Did she ever get to see you?”
“She named me before she died—since I was first born. Jason came shortly after, but, on her last push, she simply had nothing left to fight with. Before the doctor even cut the cord—she was gone.”
“So, you never knew her?”
He shook his head. “I’m told she was beautiful, and loved by many. But, my aunt was the only woman I ever considered my mother.”
“Well…what happened to her?”
David looked up and his smile tightened. “Another time, my lov
e.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “Another time, then.”
His eyes narrowed, but the corners of his lips indented his cheek with a slight dimple.
“What?” I said. “Do I have breakfast on my face?”
“Thank you.” He took my hand.
“What for?”
“For dropping the subject—without the usual fight.”
“Well, thank you for letting me into your past.”
“Anytime.” He nodded, but his eyes and the stiffness in his hands suggested this might be the last.
School could not have been more boring this week. I lived for the classes that David and I were in together, but pouted my way through the rest. In home economics, Mrs. Tacony scolded me for laughing, even though it wasn’t my fault; David told me that vampires rarely fall in love with humans—much the same as we don’t fall in love with cows—since we eat them. Then I saw Josh Granger ogling Mrs. Tacony—but she’s the biggest cow ever. It completely disproved David’s theory…and then I laughed.
Humiliation followed when the whole class looked at me, and the teacher asked me to share the comedy. I said I was sure I heard a fart.
Suffice to say, the punch David wore after barely indented his flesh and totally did not defuse my mood. But he takes my moods well—laughs them off, mostly—which is good, I guess, because, like David’s murderous streak, my moods aren’t something I can change. But, all my moralistic beliefs have been discarded for love. Though I’m in no way ready to start taking lives myself, I no longer deny the fact that he does—or that I love him. It stays in the back of my mind, though, the fact that he wanders off every few days to kill someone. Especially when we kiss. I always want to ask him if he’s brushed twice and flossed.
There is one good thing about him being a vampire, though—he was right when he said it would mean we could spend more time together. We’re inseparable at school, and he spends every night in my room until he kisses me sweetly and says, “Goodnight, my love,” then leaves before I can convince him to go further than just kissing. The downside to all this extra time together is that when he can’t be with me, I feel empty and lost, and kind of devastated.
