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Octavius Black

13 Years Old

The darkness surrounded him like a second skin as he finally managed to sneak outside. He took a deep breath, letting the cool nighttime air fill his lungs. The music from inside the reception hall still pulsed through the air, but at least it was somewhat muffled by the closed doors behind him.

Octavius hated music. He hated noise. But most of all, he hated people.

Inside the reception hall, he had been surrounded by all three. Octavius wasn't even sure why he'd taken him there to the wedding. The groom was apparently a friend of his, but Octavius hadn't ever met him before. In the three years since he arrived at Tom's home, he'd never allowed him to leave the home.

But today, Tom had suddenly decided that Octavius needed to attend this wedding with him. The chance to get out of that stifling home was something that he hadn't questioned, however, upon arriving and witnessing the kissing, laughing, and the noise—he had regretted his eagerness. Being surrounded by the overwhelming joy of everyone here, Octavius was reminded of the lack of joy felt by himself.

Why did they get to be happy when he wasn't?

Octavius leaned against the brick wall and glared straight ahead into the darkened parking lot. He despised the man inside, who made him call him Dad. Three years in his house had felt like a lifetime of misery. He hated every moment of it. He hated living in his house and being afraid of him. He hated that now he preferred to be alone, and that he liked the darkness more than sunlight and silence over sound.

He wanted to be like how he was before. He wanted to like people, and he wanted to smile. But everything was different now and Octavius was stuck in a head full of dark thoughts and a had a heart filled with hate.

Just go.

He thought to himself. Willing himself to stand up straight and walk out into the parking lot, following the road and away from Tom. But where would he go? Octavius could probably find a police station and they might send him back to his parents, where he lived before. He had been happy there. But they hadn't wanted him, and if they hadn't wanted him then, how could they ever want him now?

He didn't even want himself now.

A sniffle sounded to his right, and he whipped his head around, his eyes narrowed into a glare at the person who dared interrupt his quiet. His darkness. His solitude.

Through the small bit of light shining out of one of the windows, Octavius saw a girl he recognized. The bride's kid. She was still dressed in her baby blue puffy dress; her long dark blonde hair was still twirled around her head with little flowers woven into the braids.

He could only make out half her face in the poor light. She was younger than Octavius, he was sure, and she was tiny. Fragile looking.

He could break her.

The thought disgusted him so much that he visibly pulled further away from the girl. He would never break or hurt anyone the way Tom hurt him.

Suddenly, her face tilted up, like she had sensed his presence, and her eyes met his. They both froze as they took in each other's presence. With her face fully toward him, he could see the tear tracks that streaked down her face, but her turquoise eyes seemed to shine bright—almost glowing in the darkness.

Octavius didn't think that he'd ever seen a prettier girl than this one, even if she was sitting in the dark outside her mother's wedding.

She moved a little bit over on the bench, patting the now empty spot beside her, indicating for him to sit down. Octavius walked over to the bench and sat down on the opposite side, careful to keep as much distance as possible between them. She might've been pretty, but he didn't want to get too close or have her think she could get close to him.

"Why are you crying?" He asked. Or meant to anyways. Instead of a question though, his voice was harsh and cold. Octavius sounded angry, like he was yelling at her instead, and he expected her to run away—isn't that what girls did when people were mean to them?—but she just stared at him with those dark ocean blue eyes intently, like she was seeing inside his head.

That was the very last place he ever wanted her to be, and he found himself shifting uncomfortably on the bench.

"I saw you inside," she said matter-of-factly. "You looked mad. But you don't look angry right now." She said, instead of answering his question. Her voice was soft and smooth, and soothed some of the weariness inside of him.

"Well, I am." He told her. "I'm angry all the time." It kind of felt good to say it out loud. At the same time, the words made thoughts come to his mind—the reasons why he was so angry—and it didn't feel so good to think about that.

"Oh." She said, her brows furrowed as if giving his response a deep measure of thought that he wasn't used to, making him uncomfortable again. Then she shrugged, seemingly accepting his answer. "I'm sad. That's why I'm crying."

"Yeah, but you're probably a crybaby." Octavius said, not knowing why the words came from his mouth, only that he didn't like the feelings that rose up when she looked at him like that and seeing her cry was making him angry. "You probably get sad and cry all the time when nothing bad ever happens to you." He turned away from her, crossing his arms and staring out into the parking lot. Octavius knew that he shouldn't be being mean to her, after all, she hadn't done anything wrong. But he didn't even know why he cared if she was crying or happy or sad or smiling, and that made him even angrier.

"Well, if I'm a crybaby then you're just a big, mean, crabby patty."

Octavius whipped his head around just as she stuck her tongue out at him. He glared over at her, offended by her words.

"I'm not a crabby patty." He huffed out at her, annoyed by her childish assessment. He should leave. Being here wasn't the relief he had been seeking, but...he didn't want to.

"Then I'm not a crybaby." She continued to argue.

His lips pursed for a moment as he thought for a reason that made him right and her wrong, before muttering a quick, "fine," unable to find a solid reason.

The girl wiped the wetness from her cheeks and lashes with the back of her hand and offered him a small smile, apparently accepting his answer. "My name's Valentine."

"Octavius." He replied.

She giggled. "Octavius." She repeated slowly, giggling some more. He liked it when she said his name—he liked hearing it out loud—so he didn't leave even though he was pretty sure that she was laughing at his name and that irritated him. "I like your name, Octavius." she said, pronouncing his name slowly to make sure she said it correctly. She leaned toward him, resting her hand on the bench between them. "But I'm going to call you Tavi, because it's a rule that you have to give your friends nicknames, and I've decided that you're going to be my very best friend."

He shook his head instantly. Damn it, this girl was infuriating! He should leave—he wanted to leave—but his body refused to stand, and his feet refused to move from where they rested on the concrete porch. Instead, he narrowed his eyes at her in a hard glare. "That's the dumbest name ever. Call me Octavius. That's my name. Octavius Black." He wanted to hear his name more, but he didn't want to tell her that, afraid she'd ask why. He hadn't heard his name in a long time. Maybe only once or twice in the three years he had lived with Tom, who only ever called him Boy.

"Well, Tavi...you might as well get used to it, because I like it." She said, shrugging like that stupid nickname was set in stone and nonnegotiable. Octavius crossed his arms and turned away from her. She was quiet for a moment. A single moment. "What's my nickname?"

He turned back towards the small girl in utter exasperation. "Your name is Valentine. I'm going to call you Valentine."

As her face fell, he felt himself waver, very near to spouting off some dumb baby nickname for her, but before she could, her head popped up so fast, he jerked backwards in shock. "Can we still be friends if you don't give me a nickname?"

Octavius didn't have a clue as to why she'd want to be his friend, but he couldn't help himself from liking the idea of them being friends more and more. He didn't want to hurt her feelings by telling her that there was no such thing as a nickname rule for being friends, so he said a quick, "sure," and left it at that.

Her smile grew wider, and her entire face lit up. He swallowed. If he had thought she was pretty after crying, she was even more so when she smiled at him.

Octavius wanted her to smile at him like that all the time.

She moved a little bit closer to him, her smile flickering as if she was in pain, but then her arm brushed against his and he forgot all about her pain. Valentine didn't move any closer to him and her arm didn't touch his again. Slowly, his body relaxed next to hers.

Valentine looked straight forward, and Octavius followed his lead, looking at the dark parking lot.

"Can I ask you a question, Tavi?"

Rolling his eyes at her stubbornness, he answered her. "Fine."

"You can't lie to me because I'm your friend now. You have to tell me the truth."

"Why?" He sneered. Another stupid rule. He didn't even care about hurting her feelings. He wasn't going to let her continue to believe that. Everyone lied. "Everyone lies all the time, Valentine. Don't be stupid."

"I hate lying." she said with a shrug. Unbothered by his harshness, which only served to bother him more.

"Yeah, but it's not like you'd know if I lied to you." He tried to reason with her. He could be lying when he agreed not to lie. She'd never know the difference.

"Well, if you want to be my friend, you can't lie to me."

"Okay." He sighed, leaning his head back against the brick. She clearly wasn't going to see common sense and it was exhausting arguing with her.

"And you can't tell anyone."

He rolled his eyes, "I said, okay. Now tell me or don't."

"You have to promise." She insisted.

"I promise not to lie to you." He said, though why he did was a mystery to him.

"James—the man that married my mom—spanked me really hard today and it really hurts." Valentine whispered the words, as if worried she would be overheard. Octavius turned slightly on the bench, recalling her wince as she moved earlier. "After it happened, I went back to the party and I saw everyone dancing and laughing, but I didn't want to do any of that, and it made me sad. And then I saw you being angry at them, too. Did you get spanked, too? Is that why you're so mad?"

The muscles in his body tensed up, more and more, the longer she spoke, her words hitting home far more than she probably realized, though he would never, ever say it aloud. He didn't want to talk about what Tom did to him. Octavius turned to face her, but Valentine remained staring straight ahead. "How old are you?" He asked.

"E-eight." She whispered after a moment of pause. She sounded scared to answer, and he felt his hackles raise. She shouldn't be scared to say her age. Why was she scared?

"Then you're too old to be spanked." He told her. Octavius didn't know if that was actually true, but he knew that he didn't like the idea of someone hurting her. And if Valentine wanted to believe a whole bunch of other dumb rules, then she might as well believe this one too. "Tell your mom."

Octavius watched her face scrunch up like she had tasted something sour. She glanced over at him before quickly looking away, her hand brushes under her eyes and he realized that she was crying again. This time he didn't say anything mean to her.

"What?" he asked, after a few minutes passed with her silently crying.

"I don't want to tell you." she said, wiping fresh tears away.

"I already promised not to tell." he reminded her, trying to get her to talk. Clearly, she wanted to, or she wouldn't have brought it up in the first place.

She was quiet for such a long time that he began to think she really wouldn't say anything else, but then her hushed voice filtered through the night air. "He told me that if I told my mom, he would leave her, and she'd hate me forever." She wrung her hands together, squirming in her seat, every so often a wince crossing her face, but it was like she couldn't sit still. "My mom already doesn't like me, but I think that if James left her, she would really hate me."

"Do you remember when I told you everyone lies?" Octavius asked her.

She nodded her head.

"Well, it sounds like James is an asshole liar." Her eyes widened comically at the cuss word leaving his mouth and he can't help the pride welling in his chest at feeling like a grown up. "Why do you think your mom doesn't like you?" He asked, then a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Does she hurt you?"

"No. She's just mean. She yells a lot and takes away my toys. Sometimes she locks me in my room and doesn't let me go outside." It sounded mean, like she said, but it didn't sound wrong or bad. He used to get grounded like that by his mom and dad, though they never locked him in his room. "Sometimes," Valentine continued, her voice a little off. "When my mother is drunk or really mad at me, she calls me her Fake Valentine, because when she was pregnant with me, she and my dad were really in love, but after I was born, he left. She says I ruined her life."

Damn. And Octavius thought he could be mean. "She...doesn't sound very nice." And that was the nicest thing that he could think of to say about the lady he had seen but never actually met.

"I don't want to go home with my mom and James. I don't want to live with them." She said, a few more tears leaking down her cheeks.

"Maybe you should get married." Are the words that came from his mouth. It must be because they were at a wedding and because her tears were doing something awful to his insides, because he had never considered getting married let alone thought of suggesting it to someone else before now.

Valentine looked over at him with wide eyes and raised brows, looking as if she couldn't believe those words came from his mouth either. "Why would I get married?" She asked the question as if he had been trying to be funny and make a joke.

He hadn't been.

"If you were married, you'd live with them, not your mom and James." He reasoned out, if for no other reason than to prove that he wasn't as ridiculous as he felt.

Her blue eyes narrowed up at him, deep in thought. After a few minutes, she nodded her head firmly. Octavius felt his back straighten in anticipation as he waited to hear what she had decided. "Alright, Tavi. You're going to marry me."

Shock rippled through him as her words processed in his head. Marry her? "I can't marry you." He said instantly, feeling his face scrunch up.

Her brow furrowed, "Why not?"

The look on her face made his stomach flop and tighten. His heart clenched in his chest and his hands clenched together in his lap.

"You..." He said, trying desperately to think of something that wouldn't hurt her feelings. "...have to be...in love with someone to marry them." Though, now that he thought about it, he thought that if he had to marry someone, she might not be the worst one. She was pretty. And when she wasn't talking, she didn't annoy him too much. And she was so gullible that she'd probably let him the boss of her forever.

Her mouth quirked up to one side as she gave him a lop-sided grin. "Well Tavi, you're just going to have to love me then, because we're gonna get married." Her tone was at odds with the smile on her face. Her words were fierce and determined and for the first time since he saw this girl, he wondered if she was really as breakable as she looked.

"Oh." He found himself saying like an idiot. "Okay." Octavius wasn't sure what she'd say or do if he said no, but he was pretty sure that she would start crying again or leave him out there by himself, and for the first time in three years, he didn't want to be alone.

"Promise me, Tavi." she said excitedly. "Promise me."

"I promise I'll marry you, Valentine." he promised after a small hesitation, not sure why half the words that were coming out of his mouth were coming out at all.

They sat next to each other in silence for a while after that, and he thought it might be the first time that he had been...content, in a very long time. Octavius didn't feel as lonely next to her, but he still liked the quiet and the dark that surrounded them.

Of course, it couldn't last for long. Not with Valentine, who seemed to say anything that popped into her head, but he didn't mind so much this time, when she broke the silence, asking, "Why did you come out here?"

"I wanted to be alone."

She turned those deep blue eyes toward him and asked, "Can we be alone together?"

Rolling his eyes, he answered, "you can't be alone when you're with someone."

"Oh," she said, and started to get up from the bench.

Octavius grabbed her arm, stopping her, before he realized what he was doing. Flinching away from her, he pulled his hand back to his own body. She stared over at him wide-eyed but didn't move. It had been a long time since he had willingly touched anybody, let alone doing so without thinking. Octavius squeezed his hand into a tight fist. "Where are you going?"

"You said you wanted to be alone." Valentine said, though she wouldn't meet his eyes. He thought he saw a fresh trail of wetness on her cheek.

"But...I...don't want to be alone anymore."

Valentine's eyes peaked up and he raised a brow at her, watching as she sat back down on the bench slowly, as if waiting for him to tell her to get away from him. He didn't.

"Anyways, you're never alone once you get married." he said, grasping at the first thing that came to mind, trying to make her smile again and lose that weary look she now had in her eyes. "And you know you're going to have to love me too, before we can get married."

"Oh," she said, glancing back at the building behind them, before looking back at him. "That should be easy. My mother falls in love all the time."

Octavius frowned at the girl, thinking that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to marry someone so dumb. "You can't love me and then love someone else." he said slowly, making sure that she understood him. He wasn't sure why Valentine wanted to marry him, but since he'd already agreed, he couldn't just let her think that she could love him and—and then...unlove him and love someone else. Cold rushed through him at the thought of that happening again. "When you get married, it's forever." He stressed the last word. "You love them forever."

Valentine's frown grew, as her brows furrowed, soaking in what he had just told her. "But how do you love someone forever, Tavi?"

"I—I—I don't know." He found himself admitting, as he looked away from her inquisitive eyes. She looked at him as if he held all the answers, but the longer he talked to her, the less he felt like he knew anything at all. "Be nice to them, I guess."

"You're not very nice to me." She stated. He watched as she crossed her arms out of the corner of his eye, her mouth set in a dramatic pout.

She might not be a crybaby, but she is most definitely, a poutybaby. He didn't say the words aloud, knowing she'd probably get even more upset, but he thought them pretty loudly, and it almost made him smile.

"I'm nicer to you than anyone."

He could probably try to be nicer, but...ugh. That just seemed so...hard.

Valentine seemed to think about his words for a minute, before nodding her head, accepting his consolation offer. He didn't know why he was waiting for her approval, but he liked it when she agreed with him.

"What else do you do?" She asked, "to love someone forever?"

Octavius sighed. He didn't know why she thought asking him was a good idea. He had never been in love with someone before—he certainly had never married anyone before. But he liked that she was looking to him for answers and he didn't want to admit that he didn't have.

He tried to think back to when he lived with his parents—who he lived with before Tom—because he thought that they loved each other, even if they didn't love him in the end.

"Tell the truth."

"We already tell the truth, because we're friends." She said, excitedly, giving him a huge smile. "What else?"

"I don't know, Valentine. My parents were always like, touching and kissing and hugging and holding hands with each other."

She scrunched up her nose at him. "Eww. I don't want to kiss you, Tavi." She giggled lightly, making his stomach flutter. "That's gross."

Octavius shot her a glare. "Well, I don't want to kiss you either. Or touch you. Or hold your hand. Or hug you. I don't like it when people touch me."

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"Because I always get hurt." He said after a moment of silence.

"Well, I won't ever hurt you, Tavi." she declared with absolute certainty. "I promise." Valentine held out her hand palm up, between them, waiting for him to take it.

He swallowed, his throat dry and his heart racing as he placed his hand in hers. His entire body tensed as his larger hand enclosed around her smaller one. Her skin is warm, soft, and smooth against his palm. Nothing like Tom's. His hands were rough and calloused and strong. His grip was like iron but while hers was firm, it was also loose and he knew that if he pulled away, she would let him go.

Slowly, his shoulders relaxed. His spine curved, and his eyes fell too their joined hands. Octavius raised his eyes to hers. "I won't ever hurt you, Valentine. I promise."

Her eyes lit up and she wiggled in her seat, her movements jostled him, which was a little annoying. Still, he didn't let go.

"You'll never spank me? Even if I'm naughty and mean to you and eat all your candy and only watch my favorite TV shows and don't share any of my favorite toys with you?"

Of course, that's what she'd be concerned about. He raised his brow over at her, as he wondered just how gullible she really was. "You can't be mean to me when you love me. And you have to share your candy with me, because that's part of being nice. I suppose we'd take turns watching the TV and we wouldn't have time to play with your dumb girl toys. We'd go outside and run around in the mud all day. I'm the fastest runner ever." Octavius bragged as his chest puffed up with pride and he looked over at her, wondering if she was proud of him too.

Instead of pride, he saw skepticism written all over her face. "Why would I run around in the mud?" Her tone would suggest that he was crazy for suggesting that idea, but clearly, she'd never played in the rain before, otherwise she would know how fun it was to play in the mud during—and after—a rainstorm. When he lived with his mom and dad, he always got to play in the rain with all his friends.

Octavius rolled his eyes. "Because I want to and if you're married to me, you have to do what I tell you to do." With those words, the first smile in three years crossed his face. "Always."

She pouted.

Poutybaby. Though Octavius didn't think that he minded when she pouted. It didn't annoy him or make him angry. In fact, he thought he might just like teasing her. Especially because she seemed to believe everything he said without question.

"Fine." She agreed reluctantly, then peaked over at him. "But you wouldn't..." Her voice dropped and she leaned closer, her shoulder brushing against his briefly. "...spank me, would you?"

Octavius held her gaze so that she would know how serious he was. "Even if you ate all my candy, broke the TV, threw a tantrum every day, and made me play with your dumb barbies—or whatever you like to play with—I would never, ever spank you."

Her lips curled up and she rested her head against his arm. "What else, Tavi?"

He waited for his body to tense and his muscles to tighten, but they didn't. Instead, he found himself relaxing even more on the bench where they both sat.

"We gotta tell each other everything."

She's quiet for a while. And so was he. Octavius was a hundred percent sure that he never wanted to tell her everything about himself, and he was sure that if he ever did, she would tell him that she would never love him. He wanted to take back his words, but he didn't know how to do that without admitting that he was just guessing about everything. As the silence continued, he felt his body start to tense back up and he felt the anger start to seep back into his brain as he stared out at the darkness in front of him.

Then she spoke.

"My mom wishes I was never born. She says that if I wasn't born then my dad wouldn't have left her, and she would've been happier. But now James is marrying her, and I guess he loves her, and she loves him because you said that you have to in order to get married and I believe you, and I think maybe she might not mind having me now. That's why I don't want James to leave her. If he leaves, then she won't like me anymore."

While her words made Octavius sad, her voice soothed some of the anger and fear inside of him. Because she felt as unlovable and unwanted as he did. But not anymore.

Even if nobody else loved them, they could love each other.

That thought made him brave enough to tell her something too. "I thought my mom and dad loved me. I always thought they loved each other." He told her. "But then Tom came and got me, and he told me that my parents didn't want me anymore. He said they traded me for some money because they got a new baby." Octavius swallowed. "I didn't want to believe it. I named him, you know?" even though of course she didn't know. How could she? "When he was in my mom's stomach, I named my brother." A bitter laugh escaped him as he wiped a few stray tears from his face. "But Tom showed me pictures of my mom and dad with the baby. They looked so happy in them. So now I live with Tom. He makes me call him Dad and he hurts me a lot. And that's why I'm always angry." Octavius finished in a rush, eager to be done with the whole thing.

"I don't like your parents or my mom or Tom or James. They're so dumb. I'll never stop wanting to be your friend, Tavi. And once I love you, I'll never stop that either."

"Promise?" he asked, looking down at her, a little sprout of hope bloomed inside of him despite the fact that most of him still thought it wasn't possible to love someone forever—especially him.

She gave Octavius a fierce nod. "Promise. That should be another rule of ours. Once we start loving each other, we can't ever stop."

He nodded back at her in agreement. "I promise too. I'll never stop loving you once I start."

"When will you love me, Tavi? When will you marry me and take me away?"

Octavius wanted to tell her he'd take her away right now. But the thought of her living with Tom and him left him feeling cold. They could run away together. It wasn't the first time he had thought of running away, but it was the first time he hadn't dismissed it right away.

They could. Together. But where would they go? And the police would look for them. Would they take Octavius back to Tom? Or to his parents? He knew they'd send Valentine back to her mom and James. Nothing would change.

Things were bad now, but they could get worse. He reminded himself, and pushed the thought of running away, away once more.

"I think you have to be a grown up to marry each other." He said, because he didn't think Valentine would understand why they couldn't run away, and he was a little afraid that if he mentioned it, she would be determined to do it and he'd be stuck going with her, if only to make sure she didn't get lost or dead. "If you weren't a baby, I could marry you right now because I am a grown up." Compared to Valentine anyways.

"I'm not a baby, Tavi. You're being mean again." She stuck her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'm not being mean. I'm telling the truth. You act like a baby." And then he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Do not."

"Do too." he insisted.

She grew silent and a hard look crossed her face. "You said you'd marry me...today...Does that mean you already love me today?"

He shrugged and looked down at their joint hands. He had forgotten they'd even been holding hands. It didn't feel weird anymore. He never wanted to let go. Octavius looked back up at her and then looked straight ahead feeling his face heat. "Of course I do, Vale. You told me I had too."

"Tavi." She breathed, and he looked over at her, her eyes glowing with excitement. "You called me Vale." She whispered the words as if the moment she said them aloud, they would become false.

His face burned and he had to look away. "I—" he rubbed the back of his neck as he let out a sigh. "You wanted a nickname." He rolled his eyes at himself for being so lame. "Do you like it?"

"I love it!" She shouted loudly before flinging herself into his arms. Octavius sat there dumbly as she hugged him for a moment before pulling back, still smiling and said, "Tavi, I just have to love you back. As soon as we're all grown up, you'll come get me, won't you? You'll come get me and marry me? And take me away and love me forever, right?"

He squeezed her hand in mine. "I promise, Vale." He whispered. "As soon as you're all grown up, I'll come get you." Even though he didn't know if he was telling the truth or a lie. He wanted it to be the truth.

Just then the door to the reception hall flung open and a man stumbled out, grumbling and slurring. Octavius looked away from Vale and his entire body stiffened when he recognized Tom. Instantly, he released Vale's hand, pulling away from her touch like it burned him. His shoulders squared and he stood up from the bench slowly.

Tom looked over and smiled at him, his glassy eyes skating down his body. His stomach rolled and he felt nauseous. He could smell the alcohol from where they were standing a few feet away, and he knew that he wouldn't leave him alone tonight. Octavius took a small step forward, afraid that Tom would walk over to him if he didn't. He didn't want Tom near Vale, and right now, Octavius didn't want her anywhere near himself.

He didn't want her to ever feel as dirty as he felt. Octavius didn't know if Tom would hurt her like he liked to hurt him, but he never wanted to find out.

"There you are. Let's go, Son." He fought the urge to flinch or look away as his eyes molested his clothed body. "We've got another party to get too."

Without waiting for a response, Tom turned and headed toward his vehicle. Octavius hated that Tom knew he wouldn't run. He wanted to. But every time he thought he would do it, he always stopped.

Tom was bad...but there were probably even worse people out there. At least with Tom, he knew what to expect. He knew how to survive.

Octavius looked back toward Vale, intending to say a quick goodbye, but as soon as he turned his body, her arms were wrapped tight around him. Hugging him. Hard. For the first time in the longest time, Octavius felt like he could really breathe.

Unlike the first time she had hugged him, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her just as tightly as she held onto him for just a moment before letting go. Vale grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down to her level, planning her lips right on his.

Shock rippled through Octavius, so much so that he couldn't help but jerk backward away from her. She just stared up at him, her blue eyes sad despite the small smile on her lips. She knew that he was leaving.

"Always keep our promises." she said softly.

"Promise." He whispered back. "Don't forget me, Vale."

Her smile widened and for a moment, exasperation replaced her sadness. "You're my very best friend, Octavius Black. I'm going to love you forever and marry you someday. I'll never forget you."

A shadow fell over her face and her smile wobbled as she looked up at him. "You won't forget me, right?"

Octavius felt his lips curl up in a half grin. "Not ever."