The emotional toll of the day weighs down my eyelids once dinner is finished, my stomach full and satisfied making me all the more sleepy. Even though I napped earlier I'm fatigued, and I credit my injury rather than my earlier tantrum. Still, it's frustrating.

Not missing a beat, Levi notices and convinces me to retire to his bedroom for the evening. I don't like it, but I don't fight it either. We've had enough quarrels today and it's more comfortable there than on the couch. Plus there's more space.

However he doesn't stay in the room, cleaning up in the kitchen instead of sitting in his creaky chair. I strain to listen, waiting to see what he does when he's finished, but before he does I'm already drifting off.

—

Lucien hands me another glass of wine, real wine. Light passes through the crystal chalice and refracts in dozens of precise diamonds. The cuts in the glass add beauty, unlike the ones Lucien makes.

Unlike the ones I've made.

Although it's bitter, I force the red liquid down my throat, wanting the haze and numbness it brings. Eventually the sweet notes come out, coating my throat and tricking me into gulping more.

Warmth spreads through my belly and I sink further into stupor, more susceptible now to Lucien's deception and ready to succumb to helplessness. I should fight. I want to, but I won't.

I've never had the power to change things, only to not care. To move on without letting go.

A dream within a dream enfolds me. I stay, choosing to remain unaware of whatever Lucien has planned on the other side of consciousness.

It's dark here. I see nothing, yet it feels familiar.

"You deserve a proper answer." A husky whisper. I listen.

"But I don't— I don't know what this is. How to explain it."

My hand tingles. It's cold, but I don't move.

"At first I wasn't sure, and then it became stronger— my need to protect you. More than just to keep you safe."

Soft. Almost warm. I gravitate toward the feeling.

"Your pulse is a lullaby, your voice a hymn. I want to share stories and glances and..."

A tingle along my lip.

"But I won't let myself ruin your life, my world is no place for you. I can't understand why you haven't run. Why you accept me, trust me so much. You deserve more and don't ask for any of it."

Colder than before. The frostbite of absence.

"I have to let you go. Let you leave. Let you heal."

My chest squeezes, and I wonder if the cause is from the words, or torture being inflicted on my unconscious body.

"I don't know if I can."

—

During the night I wake, heart throbbing as I resurface to reality. I seek out my crimson eyes in the black of night, a guardian of sorts, and find them next to me. Levi's propped up in his usual spot, either woken from my nightmare or refusing to sleep. I want to scold him for it, but I don't.

I wish he'd lie down beside me, but I know he won't. Not this time.

I return to sleep and wait for the sun to rise. The next few days pass in a routine manner, eating and sleeping and wandering around in between. Neither of us mention more than easy topics. Bits of our past. Vampire lore, when I can sneak a question in.

The future feels taboo.

Bits of the past and things my Grandma told me continue to resurface, but none of it gives me a clue on how to defeat Lucien. I start to think that maybe Grandma only knew part of the truth, hidden in old stories that someone else told her. Besides, immortal beings are supposed to surpass humans, not to be controlled by them. 

I spend my time soaking up the midday sun and getting used to clean air. In the mornings I look forward to hearing the birds, and Levi lets me take some sunflower seeds to sprinkle in the yard.

This space grows on me, feels close enough to a home that I refer to it as one in my thoughts. Mostly, though, I preoccupy myself by observing Levi. I watch his habits and take note of how his abilities alter how he lives. I'm creating a database, preparing to face Lucien.

And Levi fascinates me. He's steadfast in routine, probably because he's had the same one for centuries. I can only relate that to the regime my parents had enforced from before I can remember. The years when I practiced three instruments at a time, was given four extra hours of school, and attended charity events when I should have been playing with kids my age.

Levi's schedule is much better. He wakes with the sun, waits for me to get up—though I'm sure that part is new—prepares and eats breakfast, writes in a leather-bound journal, disappears outside until the sun sets, then comes in for dinner with newly saturated eyes and we watch TV on the couch. Or sometimes we just sit and talk.

The thought of reclaiming some form of victory over Lucien never leaves me. In nightmares I'm bound to face suffering, but outside of my mind there must be something I can do. Some way to reclaim power. I can't let him become another shadow, left to haunt even without his presence. Not for me or anyone else.

Mags and Kristi also push me to return. While I'm here and safe, they are still in danger. Together, I'm sure we can make a difference, even if only slight.

I've come to accept my second chance at life only on the terms that I can use it to help someone else. Pay it forward. I don't care at what cost. As much as I would choose to stay here if I could— I can't, and I won't leave others in danger.

I've been happy in this cabin with Levi, enough to say I've lived. I've had a taste of what I sought after—fulfillment, and in order to keep it I need to face these obstacles. I want to be free, not live as an escaped victim.

All these thoughts rush through my mind as water flows in a steady current over my hands. Another routine—I wash and rinse the dishes, Levi dries. Doing little chores has helped bring back a semblance of sanity.

I hand him the last utensil, squeeze out the sponge, and wipe up a few remaining suds along the edge of the sink. I think I'll spend the rest of the morning outside, and then try to write my own journal entry.

Levi caught me watching him write one day and brought a new book back for me to use. It's leather like his, and has a brass latch at the front. I'm afraid my words will ruin it.

I turn to the living room and look out the window. Cloudier than usual.

"About time for your stitches to come off."

I look over my shoulder at Levi, who tucks his rag over the edge of the sink. "Come, let's have a look."

I follow him to the couch, where we take a seat next to each other. Being close to him has become comforting, and I secretly look forward to when our legs or arms brush. He feels much more human than vampire, at times. I wonder what would become of Levi and I if nothing had to change.

But change is not optional.

My bandages have been off for the past few days now, and I've kept a careful eye on the healing process. The tender skin of the cut has hardened, a seal of tissue closing over the gap. I knew the stitches would come out soon. I've prepared myself. I know what I'm going to do.

I've been vigilant to rest and eat well the past few days, testing my stamina, so I can convince him I'm healthy enough.

Levi takes my arm and gently prods the skin at varying angles, then with a quick motion the nail of his pointer finger sharpens and slices through the end of the string.

Meticulously, he pulls the rest of the thread out, my arm no longer looking like a worn out and over-used stuffed animal. The process is repeated on the other arm, and when he's done, he takes the bits of thread and throws them away.

I stay quiet on the couch, not wanting to ask the question pressing me.

Is it time?

I'd rather be told to leave, than to ask myself.

He returns and sits, then closes his eyes. A serene expression plays across his face, muscles relaxing, and finally his lips part the tiniest amount. I feel my pulse jump and look away, knowing that he's checking my vitals and can hear every irregularity.

"You aren't back to where you should be. I don't suggest pushing your body for the next few weeks. You'll still need extra rest and continued iron supplements."

Well that puts a damper on my hopeful resolve, but I doubt being weaker than normal will change the power balance I already face with Lucien.

Levi stands and looks out the window. Daylight reflects in his eyes, more grey than crimson. "But it will do you no good to be locked up here longer. I will find a suitable hotel in the town you choose, where you can start a new life."

My heart does something weird, and I stand. "When?"

"Whenever you want." His voice is low. Measured.

I follow his gaze out the window, to the trees and the animals and the bits of sun that shine through the clouds. Leaving will destroy me no matter when it happens.

"Tonight." I decide. "We can leave then."

Forbidden love = best trope
Agree?

❤️‍🩹 Siberia