by Bea Biddle
"Tonight."
"Tonight?" Karen shrieked, she pushed off him, whipping her head up to stare into his dark eyes. For once he didn't look down at her with that possessive gleam in them, with the deadly mix of mischief and desire that made him her satyr. Instead, they were somber. Just like she felt. "That's not a lot of time to say goodbye, Cef."
Cef carefully took her hands again, kissing her fingertips, one after the other, then her knuckles, the back of her hands, her wrists. "We have today, all day, to say goodbye." He kissed her forehead, kissed her between her eyes, kissed her nose, making his way to her lips. She let him. She couldn't possibly deny him anything. She wrestled with herself internally, trying hard not to feel hurt, but it was impossible. She was hurting. And she couldn't do anything about it. He slipped the towel off her, pressing her to him once again.
"That's not fair," she breathed as he kissed his way down her chin, her throat, her breasts. And then her feet were no longer on the floor. He placed her gently on the bed where he joined her. ”Not fair at all.”
✽✽✽
The bell rang out when Karen and Cef walked into the closed diner. Sylvester greeted them with a weak smile from behind the counter, and raising his wineglass to his lips, he gave them a nod before sipping on his blood. Wearing fresh clothes, his silky black shirt unbuttoned to show just too much chest, and, as always, casually rolled up to his elbows. With his ice blonde hair styled to perfection and leaning on the counter holding his glass, showing perfectly manicured black nails, there was no sign, no clue, that he had ever been taken by Demons or tortured with starvation.
"Is Alyssa back yet?" Cef asked.
Sylvester shook his head. "No."
"Then you will give her my regards? Along with my immense gratitude?"
Sylvester nodded. He knew, of course, he knew. Karen felt the usual stabbing pain of jealousy when she found out Sylvester knew something that she didn't, but let it go instantly. She didn't care anymore.
The three of them stood around not knowing how to break the silence. They all knew what was happening, and as much as they wanted to, they couldn't stop it. Karen bit her lip nervously. Sylvester ran his hand through his hair repeatedly. Cef gave up, took a deep breath and walked through the kitchen. Sylvester and Karen followed him to the basement, through the large black door hiding the gray rift. It hadn't changed since Karen had been there last. Still, the same big swirling mist resembling a fuzzy carpet. A carpet that moved like water.
"Well, old friend," Cef said giving Sylvester's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "This is it."
Sylvester snorted at his hand and instead pulled him into a big, engulfing hug. "You will be missed dearly." Cef broke the hug with a couple of pats on Sylvester's back and he turned to Karen.
She couldn't say anything, she knew if she did, she would only choke out a few stupid words, and then maybe cry. She didn't want to cry. She didn't even have the strength to meet his gaze in fear of bursting into tears. He didn't care, he gently tilted her head up to face him, like he always did, and captured her lips in one last lingering kiss. Her arms snaked around his waist on their own, grabbing the back of his worn coat in her fists and pulled him closer. She deepened the kiss, filling it with all the desperation and helplessness she felt, kissing him with all the sadness that overwhelmed her, making sure he could feel it as well. He kissed her back just as fiercely, crushing her to him in one long, heart aching, soul-destroying battle of tongues, of lips. Of them. Kissing as though they would never kiss again. Because she knew they wouldn't.
"Don't go," she whispered once they drifted apart. ”Please.”
"I have to." He tugged a few stray locks of hair out of her eyes and behind her ears. His smile was coated in sadness, but genuine when he looked at her. He pulled off his beanie and dropped it to the floor, sliding his coat off his wide shoulders and dumped it there too. He kicked off his boots, gave Sylvester a friendly smile, then cradled Karen's face in his hands. With a lingering glance over her familiar features, he breathed in her scent one last time. Goodbye, mate of mine. He wished he had the courage to say the words out loud, wished he could take her with him, wished he could stay. But it would do no good to dwell on wishes. It would only hurt more than a knife in the back. Unable to prolong any longer, he gave Karen one last peck on the forehead, trying hard to ignore the painful pang in his chest, and the unshed tears he saw in the corner of her eyes. He stepped backward, making his way into the swirling gray. The rift flared red, bathing the room in a harsh light that Karen had to shield her eyes from before it died down.
Cef had gone. And with him, the very last piece of her heart.
"Fuck!" Karen screamed out in frustration and stomped her foot on the stone floor. She didn't know what she had expected. More, perhaps? Something. A promise to return? Asking her to come with him? Anything. Anything at all! But she got nothing. And all she could do was let out furious, hurt, angry cries, one after the other. "Motherfucking shit! Cuntfaced fuck!" she yelled and stomped on the floor again, just for emphasis. Wishing she had a punching bag, or a fancy, antique porcelain teapot to smash, something, anything. Anything to keep her from crying.
"Don't hold back now." Sylvester watched her with a small bemused smile.
"You!" Karen yelled, pointing an accusing finger at him. "You knew he was going to go, didn't you?”
”I had an inkling,” he confessed with a shrug.
”But you told me to- You pushed me to-" With another growl, she buried her face in her hands. "Wasn't your exact words to just do him already? To sleep with him? What was the point if he was just going to leave?"
”To be fair, I didn't know he was leaving until after you started sleeping together.” His piercing blue eyes shone with sympathy. ”And I honestly didn't think you would get attached so fast." He stood casually with his hands in his pockets, eying her with his head cocked to the side. Karen wanted to wipe that stupid, sympathetic smile off his face with the boots on the floor. She sneered at him, grumbled something under her breath about damn Vamps, and crossed her arms over her chest. She was angry, and not completely sure about what. "Oh, come now." He gave a friendly laugh, draping his arm around her shoulders and led her out of the room. "Don't look back, it won't make it better."
Sylvester guided her back up the stairs, back through the kitchen, and into the diner. It was still empty, no Alyssa, no more Zac, and definitely no more Cef sitting by the counter with his usual steaming cup of coffee. The very thought hurt so much.
Karen let out a long, mournful sigh that made Sylvester chuckle. He patted her shoulder and walked behind the counter. Pulling out a bottle and a glass, he began pouring red wine into it. "No thanks, Sly," she managed to press out and shook her head.
"One glass before work won't hurt," Sylvester said, continuing to pour, "I think you need it. Come. A toast to Ceftion, the mighty Warchief, leaving broken hearts in his wake. Who would have thought, eh?"
"Stop fucking rubbing it in," Karen growled at him and rolled her eyes. She then caught sight of something leaning against a chair in the corner. A big flat thing wrapped in brown paper. "What's that?"
"Oh yeah," Sylvester drawled, some of his usual humor returning to him. He closed the bottle and put it away. "I almost forgot about that. It's for you."
Karen walked over to the package and lifted it. Heavy. The paper had been wrapped around last minute and was barely hanging on, she had no problem tearing it off. She wished she hadn't. What stared back at her was a painting. A stunning orange and pink sky behind the dark Brooklyn bridge. She recognized the view from Cef's apartment all too well. But in front of the large window showcasing the view was his bed, in the bed a shape. A naked female back, the rest of her covered by a flimsy sheet, her black hair pooling behind her on the pillows. She felt punched in the gut, her mouth went dry. This was her, the first time she had slept in his bed. With shaky hands, she turned it around. Something was written on the back in Cef's horrible, crude handwriting.
T
he most beautiful sight I have seen on this Earth.
"No,” she said and swallowed hard to keep the sob at bay. ”No, that's not fair, Cef. That's not fair," she choked out. The inevitable tears began streaming down her face. And then the sobs she could not contain any longer. Her knees hit the floor, but she didn't even register that she had fallen. Nor did she register the hard, grip Sylvester held her in as she cried on his shoulder.
The painting slid from her grasp and scraped along the floor.
-The End-
