Wind carries the scent of fresh pine and bitter car exhaust through the trees. Even though you can't see the city here, it's presence is always felt.

I step over a twig and grip Grandma's hand for support. The thrum of traffic fades as we walk down a worn trail in Grand Park. Mom doesn't like going out unless it's inside a car, and she never lets me explore on my own. But sometimes she lets Grandma take me outside. They say it's good for her health. I think it's good for everyone's health.

Here the plants aren't trimmed and tightly packed into containers, they're allowed to grow free. Not all of them have to bloom with pretty flowers, either. Some are spiky and some have leaves as big as my face. On some days, it feels like the park has even more animals than humans, and that makes me smile.

It feels balanced—unlike outside, where the buildings tower over me and people are always asking what I want to be when I grow up. Except they don't really want to know my answer, they just want to tell me what my answer should be. I don't think they'd like it if I said I wanted to go on walks everyday, or that I like to stare into the sky until my eyes grow all watery.

I like to close my eyes, too. I can feel the ground underneath my feet and taste the pollen in the air. Sometimes I feel that particular chill that's colder than the winter snow, but it doesn't feel as sharp. Like it has a purpose other than to frighten me. Like it's not something bad.

Grandma walks slow enough for my little legs to keep up, her cane tapping on the ground with each step and the squirrels chirping at us from a nearby tree. They always want snacks. Me too.

"The park is so green today," Grandma says. "All that rain made the plants grow fast this year."

I look around. The plants do look happy, reaching toward the sun's warmth. "Why don't I grow when it rains?"

Grandma chuckles and her eyes crinkle. "Because you aren't meant to do the same things that plants do." She takes in a deep breath, then exhales. "In order for the world to keep balance, everyone has their own part to play. Living doesn't mean to exist on one's own, it means learning to exist with others. Someday you'll realize there is purpose in everything, even purpose in death."

I try to commit her words to memory. They seem important, even though I don't fully understand. I don't like to think about death when I know it'll take her away.

"Does everyone have to die?"

"Yes," she answers. "But sometimes, the dead can receive a new purpose." She smiles down at me. "Don't worry, I've found my purpose already, and you will too. Give it time, and never forget."

A tingling chill caresses my neck. I whip around to see a monster emerge from the trees. His crimson eyes glow, fangs sharp and white as he stalks toward us. Lucien.

"Grandma! We have to run!" The cold consumes me, and when I look back at her, she's fallen into a casket. Her cheeks are pale, her smile gone. "No!" I turn back with tears in my eyes, prepared to launch myself at the threat. I'll do anything. I'll fight anyone. "Stop!"

"Wake up," another voice echoes—some fantasy of rescue from my helpless subconscious. "You're asleep, Hanna."

Tears wet my cheeks and sensation returns to my limbs. The fog I didn't know was present leaves my mind, and I'm back in a pitch black bedroom.

I'm alone.

And I still feel lost.

"It was a nightmare." Now I recognize the voice and open my eyes, looking over at Levi's chair. He's here. He's still here. I can make out his silhouette and the shine in his eyes as Levi looks back at me. My muscles ease and I let myself relax into the mattress.

"Okay," I whisper, glad he's not another figment of my imagination. I pull my arm out of the blanket and let fresh air whisk away the lingering numbness.

Wait, he's still here?

I frown. I didn't expect him to stay the whole night. Now I feel guilty. "Have you not slept?"

"I'm okay."

"Do vampires not sleep?" I discreetly rub my bandage against a fold in the quilt, the persistent itch returning.

His hand reaches out to still my arm. "We do."

"Sorry," I whisper. "You should get some rest."

He gives a small sigh. "I'll try."

Silence. I wait for him to move, but he doesn't. "Are you going to sleep in that chair? It looks uncomfortable."

"I'll manage."

I turn over, unsatisfied. "I think I'll be okay, you can go sleep in your bed."

"That would be difficult, seeing as you're in it."

Oh, what? This is... this is his bed. That means, technically, I kicked him out of his own room for the past two nights. That explains the blanket and pillow kept on the couch.

I scoot over to the edge. "There, I made space."

A ghost of a chuckle, merely a breath through his nose. The bed dips ever so slightly and his presence comes beside me. The lightest scent of sage and lavender sweetens the air and soothes my senses. After another moment he shifts, still above the quilt. Maybe vampires like being cold all the time.

I roll onto my back, taking in another deep breath. "Levi?"

"Yes?" he hums.

Inching my hand over, palm up, I rest my arm between us. The itch is still there, but something else bothers me. I'm not sure what I'm reaching for, though I figure it out as soon as I find it. Fingertips. Mine curl, relaxing into his touch.

This is nice.

—

In the morning, I assume I'll be the only one in bed.

I'm wrong.

My arm is cold, having been outside the quilt all night, but the feeling of Levi's fingers still entwined with mine is worth it. I peek through half-lidded eyes and drink in the sight of his sleeping form. Laid on his side, he has my hand clutched to his chest, hair a dark mop over his forehead and lips barely parted. I smile, hoping he slept as well as I did.

The gloom I've grown accustomed to isn't here today. Contented, I close my eyes and return to a half-asleep haze. Feeling like this, I could even go back to sleep for a few more hours.

Levi's hand moves and slowly slips from mine. I still, not wanting to admit I'm awake. To my dismay, he gets off the bed and silently disappears.

Now sleep doesn't appeal as much.

Rolling to the center of the mattress, I stretch and begin to untangle myself from the sheets. My arms tingle, and I take the opportunity to itch them while I know I won't be stopped. The stitches should be ready to be removed in a few more days, and soon after I'll be well enough to leave.

I can't tell which weighs on me more, the thought of no longer enjoying these days with Levi, or not being able to do anything about Lucien. I'll have to face both in the near future.

The warm sunlight filtering through the curtain captivates me, and I pull the cloth aside to reveal a picturesque view of green leaves and various clusters of tiny wildflowers. A clear blue sky beams through the top of the trees. Somehow, it feels closer than it did in the city.

Once I have on a change of clothes and freshen up in the bathroom, I wander into the kitchen. Levi's seated on the couch, back turned to me.

"Morning," I mumble, voice muffled by sleep. No response.

I walk over, peeking out the front window to see if there's anything that might have caught his attention. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Morning," he replies belatedly. His voice is gruff, even more so than mine. "Help yourself to breakfast."

His hands are tented in front of his face, elbows resting on his thighs as he stares at nothing. I wonder what's got him so preoccupied.

"Would you like anything in particular?" I ask, hoping some food will improve his mood.

In persistence, he doesn't spare a glance in my direction. "I'm not hungry."

"Okay." Sourly, I recognize the dejected tone in my voice, and slink into the kitchen. I think I'll just go with an apple for now.

The rest of the day follows suit, with me trying to keep occupied and avoiding the statue that once was Levi. That man can concentrate, that's for sure. His distance only causes more questions to pile on top of the ones I wasn't able to ask last night.

By mid-afternoon I'm still energized, unlike previous days. Must mean I'm recovering well. The thought isn't as inspiring as it should be.

On yet another journey through the kitchen to fill my third glass of water, mostly out of boredom, I peek at the living room. The resident Statue of Levi is missing. Maybe he decided he was ready for a meal after all. I'm not certain how burning energy works for vampires, but even I was beginning to crave a snack after seeing him think so hard.

My eyes fixate on the sky outside the window. Blue and clear, just like it was in my dream. Or rather, the memory.

On a whim, I set down my empty glass and go to the front door, opening it to let in a slight breeze and the scent of earth. Sunlight kisses my skin, warm for a moment before the air swirls and whisks away the heat. As if on instinct, my lungs fill with air.

Life.

I stretch out my arms. Venture a step outside.

No one is watching, no one to question what I'm doing, why I'm just standing here like a fool. Blood courses freely through my veins, as natural as the wind and trees and wildlife.

I don't feel like I've done anything to deserve this moment of peace. Even so, if only for these past few days, I've felt something that I will never forget.

It's true parts of me have been broken a few too many times, gone for a little too long to remember what's normal, and quite frankly, I've come to terms with that. Being in this place makes me feel maybe that's okay.

Perhaps I can be broken and healed at the same time.

I can feel alive, while parts of me are dead—and regardless, the Earth acknowledges my existence. As small as I may be, I must be more than nothing.

Remembering to close the door, I walk out a little ways into the overgrowth. The grass is rougher than I assumed, and it prickles the soles of my feet through the socks. Eventually, I duck past a few branches and find a small dirt road that leads outward. I adhere to the less overgrown trail, relieved to have smoother footing.

The house is still within sight when a stronger breeze rushes through the trees, and in the blink of an eye, Levi stands in front of me.

Levi has two speeds: very slow and veryyy fast, lol.

❤️‍🩹 Siberia