Categories > Original > Romance
Tenderly
0 ReviewsIf he could only hold her, there wouldn't be such a big gap between them. Too bad he's a vampire.
I want to convey these feelings to you, but you never want to listen. Saying these words might lead to heartbreak, but if I don't speak up, they would only end in "what if"'s, and I don't want that. The problem is I love you, and I know I can't do anything about it.
Cold fingers wrapped around my arm with enough pressure to make me wince, but his grip slackened when he saw the grimace pass over quickly on my face. My heart raced at the tension, the attention, and the intentions, suffocating me as I waited for him to say my name. Instead, his dark eyes hardened into a deep frown, searching my own for an answer to an unspoken question. The etches in his face loosened up, and before I knew it, he was gone. . . .
[In the Point of View of Lilia]
It was early December, and the rain was pelting the pavement, the street slick and gleaming beneath the dim lights of the lamps, my only guidance home. There was no moon to offer more lighting, only black clouds to further dramatize the gloomy scenery. Huge puddles lay scattered before me, a pool of black liquid, the drops of rain making large splashes on the surface. I pulled my scarf closer around my neck as a strong gust of wind whipped my hair aside, shifting the rain so that it splattered on my bare legs. Groaning, I wiped the water off, and a low chuckle trailed from the right.
Perhaps a bit too paranoid, I spun around and peeked into the dark alleyway, ready to confront whoever it was that was watching me. A pair of bright blue orbs suddenly stared back at me and blinked once, fading back into the pitch black. Rustling could be heard, growing louder as it neared me, and a dark figure came into view. I swallowed in anxiety and took a step backwards, raising my fists. There was no way I was going to become a missing person without a good fight, even if I was shaking in my boots. Then again, no worries. Like I said, I was a bit too paranoid. I sighed in relief as the familiar person materialized from the darkness. It was Laches, my caretaker, if you will.
"You're late," was all he said before taking the umbrella from my hand, brushing against my skin ever so slightly and raising it over the both of us. I smiled and walked beside him quickly, his stride being longer than my own. I looked up at him and said, "Were you worried about me?" but he didn't answer, purposely speeding up so I had to stumble after him.
When we arrived home, an old manor where the governor of a few centuries ago had once resided, Laches quickly stepped away from me and dropped the umbrella to the floor. I picked it up and shook the drops of water off, staring at his back as he walked briskly to the living room. Once I set it aside, I tapped my shoes on the mat and followed him into the large but scantily furnished room until I was just a foot or so away from him. He stood completely still, staring into the fire inside the hearth, water dripping from the ends of his hair, and his shirt was wet from the rain. Reaching out to grasp a lock of his darkened hair, I stepped forward, but he swung his arm to repel me as if he was expecting me to do it. The fire crackled, illuminating his gorgeous yet immaculate face, a small frown set into his brow. His now grey eyes looked cold and almost disdainful.
“Don’t touch me," he said, straining to say the words.
I was miffed by his reaction. “Sorry. I thought living together for twelve years was enough time for us to grow comfortable around each other."
". . . I don't like body contact, Lilia," Laches replied after a brief hesitation.
"Come on! It's not like your hair could feel my fingers pressing it. I just wanted to see how much water would drip if I squeezed it. I'm oddly curious."
"It wouldn't be so wet if you came home on time."
"Don't try to blame it on me, mister! I didn't say you had to come pick me up."
"You were late. I was worried. Now leave me alone."
He turned back to the fire, gazing into the trembling flames, and I felt a strange tugging inside of me as if my insides were being sucked into an abyss. I gave no mind to it and smiled warmly at Laches, climbing the stairs to my bedroom.
I changed out of my damp skirt and jacket and pulled on an oversized shirt and gym shorts, discarding my socks into the laundry basket inside my closet. Thunder erupted from the sky, and lightning ripped through the darkness, the light fading back to the glow of the candles. Outside from the balcony, I could hear the wind howling relentlessly as the rain attacked the window. As an added effect to the should-be frightening room, the faint lights casted shadows over my hammock of stuffed animals and handmade dolls, looking quite voodoo-like. However, I was used to this on nights like these, and as long as it was warm, I didn't mind the constant groaning of the house.
I pushed a button on my stereo that was sitting on top of my bookshelf across from my bed, and numbers popped up, indicating the time: 10:47 PM. Laches was right; I was over an hour late coming home. Thankfully, he cared enough about me to come find me in such violent weather like this. I felt much safer with him walking beside me so late in the night; years of constant gameplay of horror video games like Fatal Frame and Clocktower had corrupted my mind with suspicion of angry ghost farmers and an over-sized man wielding a sledgehammer running after me and shouting in a raspy voice, "Lilia! Where are you?!” Now nice and warm at home, I was sleepy, but I was also hungry. It had been five hours since I last ate, and I knew that if I went any longer without food, I would keel over and die. Or at least break out into a thick sweat and faint.
I slipped back out my room quietly, aiming for sneakiness so Laches wouldn't notice, considering he liked to make hints I had too big of an appetite, but I knew it was pointless. His hearing was at such a ridiculous sensitivity, he'd hear anything light-years away, a feat even Superman couldn't accomplish. Quite honestly, it was true. If he concentrated hard enough, Laches could see what was going on in a person's mind, and that was no trouble at all for him. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with his hearing ability, but still, it was undeniably remarkable. His senses were heightened, his body and mind honed to the superiority beyond any other beings, and he was breathtakingly beautiful to the point he would look good in even a dishrag. Why was he so perfect? Well, it was quite simple when the boundaries of imagination were severed: my dearest Laches was not at all human.
He once was, most certainly, but now where his heart rests, it lay dormant and unbeating. His body was cold and hard like marble, skin pulled taut over his well-defined muscles, and the blood that ran through his veins served no other purpose but to relinquish to another to create one of his kind. He had appetite yet knew not hunger, and his senses were heightened yet he could not feel small, physical pain. Laches was so human to me, but he was so far beyond that frailty. I saw him as a normal person like everybody else, but I knew he was what he was and always will be: a vampire.
Perhaps it was because I'd spent twelve of my seventeen with him so I was accommodated to his strange habits. I remember so vividly the night Laches had carried me out of the burning house, risking his body just to help me, a stranger only five years old. That night, I became an orphan and was taken in by him. Since then, I don't remember him being an affectionate man; he was always distant and aloof though it's not to say he was a cruel person. After all, he had saved me. I knew that underneath his stony exterior was a soft and compassionate core. The juxtaposition of his two contrasting personalities had me running in circles though. For some reason, no matter the occasion, I always had to be wary of doing things that would cause him further irritation than he already naturally had. Small things like a high-five or a pat on the back were often prohibited, and hugs and the joining of hands was an unspeakable. Really, what a high-maintenance guy! But despite that, I cherished every moment I had with him, every little argument and small favors because I knew my days were limited, because eventually, I would die.
I walked into the kitchen without flipping the lights on and opened the fridge expectantly. My face dropped when all I saw were a few cans of soymilk and an empty tray for eggs. Laches had a vault of money, maybe two or three more, but we didn't even have food in the fridge. He didn't expect me to turn vampire and start hunting for my meals, did he?
Sighing in annoyance that I would have to go grocery shopping the next day, most likely still rainy weather, I slammed the door and turned around. I let out a startled scream and stumbled backwards, catching myself on the counter.
"Laches!" I gasped, steadying myself. "Don't sneak up on me!"
"There's food on the table," he replied, vanishing just as quickly as he had come.
"Really?"
Huh, I thought. Laches made me food. How strange of him. Very suspicious.
The lights suddenly flickered on in the dining room, drawing me to it. Indeed, sitting on the table was a bowl of steaming porridge looking quite lonely all alone. I plopped down in the cushioned chair eagerly, already shoving the spoon into the surface of the porridge. I scooped the rice and a piece of egg, shoveling it into my mouth without letting it cool down first. Bad idea. My throat burned even as I sucked in air to try and relieve my searing mouth, eyes tearing. As I ladled another spoonful, I tapped my nails on the table, strategizing on how to draw Laches back out and lure him into a conversation.
"Pretty good, Laches," I said thickly through a mouthful of rice. "By the way, I'm just curious. I never see you eat. Do you do it late, late, late at night when I'm asleep?"
"Why does it matter?" Laches had suddenly appeared beside me, his ragged dark brown hair falling over his eyes. He planted a palm flat against the table beside my hand and kept his gaze averted from me. I continued to eat, speaking after every couple of swallows.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "But don't you ever get hungry and want to eat?"
"Having hunger and wanting to eat are two different concepts."
"Yeah, yeah, if you want to get all technical, Wise Guy. Which do you have then: hunger or appetite?"
A dark smile crept onto his face, his eyes veiled by his bangs. "A little bit of both."
"Then you should go fill yourself up."
"Impossible. It's been quite a while since I've last fed. You were not yet even in the double digit age yet."
With that, Laches disappeared again, leaving me to ponder over what he said while slurping at the porridge.
That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to find peace to sleep. Laches had not fed for several years, and it was funny that I hadn't noticed it before. Human or not, nothing could survive without sustenance, but was it proper to say that Laches was living? Either way, why would he risk his existence by not feeding? Sure, he was immortal and indestructible to an extent, but did that mean blood was not necessary for him? What could have made him stop feeding? Did he do so willingly? I, for one, could never live without food besides the fact that I needed it.
I sat up immediately as a memory replayed in my head, something I had long forgotten. It happened a few months after he had taken me in, and I had already grown comfortable around Laches. He never took me out, but I didn't mind because I had always felt safe and protected when I was with him. I felt like fear could never enter my life. Then, one night when the moon was shining brightly through my curtains, I felt a draft and heard a loud thump on the floor. It woke me up right away, hiding beneath my blankets and peeking out at the same time. The room was illuminated by the moon so when it happened, I could see everything clearly. Beyond the transparent canopy of my bed, I caught sight of Laches holding someone down. My eyes wandered up and up curiously at the two until I saw the horrifying image of his teeth sunken into the stranger's neck, a small trickle of blood streaming down onto his collar. The man was not moving.
My scream had broken through the deafening silence, and Laches immediately dropped the man, free from the trance he was in and the red glint in his eyes fading. As his eyes regained their normal grey color, I saw the worry that engulfed him as he licked his lips, and I was still screaming, unable to control myself. My screams only frightened me more, but I couldn't stop, afraid of what would happen if it became silent again. Laches came forward and drew me into his arms, cradling me, soothing my screams into helpless sobbing. I did not want to look at the body, so I buried my face into his shirt. He was the one that had killed the man, that had done something I knew even as a child was wrong and inhuman, but I still sought comfort and protection from him.
"I'm sorry, Lilia," he murmured in a rush. "I won't do it again. Promise. Now stop crying."
I had nodded over and over, tremors shaking throughout my body, and it took me half the night to fall back asleep, cradled in his arms. He stayed with me that night and every night until I was seven. That night was the only time I'd ever seen him break from his stony composure, and he had kept his word. He continued to deny himself his food just to keep me from being afraid.
I leapt out of bed and bounded for his room, way down into the dungeons, feeling terrible suddenly. I opened the door leading down, and a gust of icy cold air rushed into the guest room where the entrance was located. I shivered and looked down at the railess winding ramp, so that if I tripped, I would fall to meet my doom. Even so, I hurried down on the tips of my toes and spotted his room. I paused before it, debating if I should enter or not, but I knew I had to talk to him. I swallowed my anxiety and pushed it open, stepping inside quietly. Laches was fast asleep on his bed, laying flat on his back, the room illuminated by flickering candles. I leaned over him and peered at his serene face. He seemed so fragile and delicate like this, face smooth and free of his signature glares. He looked like such a nice guy, what with his pretty face and all.
Trying to wake him, I snorted and puffed my not-so-pleasant breath in his face and hoped that his super sensitive nose would be able to sniff it even asleep, but he remained motionless. For an attentive vampire, he sure was dead asleep. I even brushed my hair along his nose and won no response. He could have died a while ago for all I knew. No breaths came out of him, and his chest did not move up and down.
Forgetting why I was there in the first place, in this gloomy and depressing dungeon, I sank to my knees and pressed my cheeks against the back of my hand, watching Laches do absolutely nothing. I was getting restless from looking at his face, almost like a Noh mask, and that led me to think about the red cheeks on it. That in turn led me to wonder if Laches' cheeks could be as red. Curious, I reached out with my free hand to pinch his face, but his hand shot out and gripped my wrist. His eyes slowly opened, a bored look on his face as if he was awake the whole time.
"What?" he sighed, still holding me with his frigid fingers.
"Uh, I wanted to see if your cheeks go red," I said stupidly.
"What did I say about body contact, Lilia?"
"Make sure my hands are clean?" I smiled meekly. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry again that it was because of me that you don’t . . . eat . . . or drink . . . or whatever."
Laches chuckled to my surprise. "That's why you came down here?"
He finally released my hands and sat up, elbow resting on his one drawn knee, long tapered fingers pressed delicately against his pale fingers. His glassy nails gleamed in the candle light.
"Why are you worrying about that now?" he mused, studying my face intently.
"I remember why you stopped feeding. I'm not a little girl anymore so you don't have to spare my feelings."
Remarkably, he laughed again and grabbed both of my arms. Pulling me into an embrace, he rested his chin on the top of my head, his voice echoing throughout the enormous room. Confused, I stayed still and stuttered incoherently, but he ignored it and spoke before I could get an identifiable word out of my dry mouth.
"Stop worrying, Lilia," Laches said. "It's been so long; I've learned how to cope without blood now. I don't need to survive like a leech anymore."
"Uhhh. . ."
It was strange and awkward, what with Laches' uncommon affections being directed towards me. I was suddenly self-conscious about how I felt against him as I could feel the coldness of his body, seeping through his black shirt, chilling me. My face tingled at the unusual contact, and something in me had sprouted. Somewhat unaware, I reached out to hold him in return. However, he suddenly pushed me away forcefully as if disgusted by me. He was at the door before I could fully realize, and he looked at me coldly.
"Go back to your room," he muttered and vanished.
The next morning, I tried my best to steer clear of Laches. Last night's event made me feel terribly embarrassed, and I couldn't face him without going into an internal hysteric. Worse was that if he noticed my fidgety behavior, he would be able to dive into my mind and see what turmoil was causing havoc in my head. I had to be extra sneaky and sly. I opened the front door and slammed it shut, running. As I turned the corner of the entrance of the stone fence, I collided into the wall and fell to the floor. I slapped my palms to my throbbing forehead as a few stray tears leaked out. I released an aggravated curse, and a burst of laughter erupted. Startled, I saw Laches leaning against the fence, head bowed down in uncontrollable laughter. Realizing I had run into Laches, I scowled as I stood up.
"Why are you outside?" I said. He pulled down his shaded glasses, and the sun hit his eyes, a light blue color, glinting in the light. The sun reflected against his nails like the light off a window, and his skin was incredibly pasty in the brightness. "Be careful that no one sees you dazzle and sparkle."
"You're telling me to be careful?" Laches scoffed. "Why are you running around so early this morning?"
"Iuno," I mumbled, looking at my own nails.
"Hn. There's no use be secretive."
At this, I fled back into the house and into the living room, but he was way too fast. I felt the strange tingle in my head as he tried to pry into my mind, and I busied myself with singing Christmas songs only I didn't know the whole lyrics. Stupid Christmas carols. He frowned and then smiled, breaking through. Suddenly, he was knocked over to the side, and in his place stood a glamorous woman with brown hair and pale skin. "Oh, praise the almighty Buddha!" I gasped. It was Shana, his older sister.
"Hey, baby brother!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "And my lovely little human! Lilia, your hair is so long and pretty now! I just want to dress you up, you cutie!"
"Thanks?" I smiled in confusion.
"Why are you here?" Laches demanded.
"I'm here to check on Lilia, you dummy!"
"She's fine so go home."
"He's lying!" I protested. "He's trying to get into my head!"
"Did you say 'bed' or 'head'?"
"Head."
"Your head?!" Shana gasped dramatically. "What a naughty boy!"
Laches rolled his eyes as she laughed at the sarcasm, and I took the chance to race upstairs and into my room.
[Laches]
I ignored Shana as she twirled her hair thoughtfully, green eyes peering through the ceiling to watch Lilia. I sunk into the couch with my arms folded across my chest. Something about Lilia had changed recently, and it bothered me to no ends not knowing exactly what it was. All I knew was that I didn't particularly enjoy it.
"What's going on?" Shana asked. "Something's different about Lilia. Surely you notice it too."
I paused before answering. "She smells different, and I don't like it."
"Really? I think she smells good."
"That's not what I meant. She smells sweet and attractive, and it's bothering me that I'm so drawn to it. I know it's faint now, but it will grow stronger. Shana, I'm beginning to thirst for her blood."
"Oh, stop brooding."
"Can you be serious, or is that just too difficult for you? You are aware that I haven't fed for twelve years."
"But you had grown accustomed to it."
"I'm weakening. I may have to leave soon."
[Lilia]
I was at school for half of the day, and I was worried that Laches would find a time to read my mind. The thoughts I didn't want him to find . . . well, I couldn't exactly put my finger on it wither. I wasn't sure what I was so scared of. However, Shana promised he wouldn't pry anymore, but she'd be leaving tonight for Italy so she couldn't protect me. Before she left, she came into my room with a smile on her face.
"You love Laches," she stated simply. I stammered and denied it, but she laughed and pushed the issue further. I shushed her as she continued.
"It's okay," she said. "It's okay for you to love him."
"Is that it? Is it . . . because I love him . . . that I feel so awkward? Am I in love with Laches?"
"That's why you smell different."
"I do?"
"Yeah; it's quite pleasant. Lilia. I am thrilled . . . that you care about him this much. But please promise me you'll be careful around Laches. You know it's been a long time since he last drank, and you're emitting this sweet aroma now."
"Don't worry; I won't let him find out about how I feel. It's too sudden. He won't like this."
"You need to tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'll understand, and everything will be fine. It will all work out. It's a promise, okay?"
Shana left, and it was past midnight now. I was sitting in front of the living room fire, staring blankly into it and thinking. When did it happen? When did I fall in love? Was it the night I met him for the very first time? Was it when he held me? Was it when I realized what he had sacrificed for me? Yes, yes, yes! It was all that and so much more! Yet I wanted to cry because I didn't know how to hide it or if I should tell him. I knew I couldn't live with him if I had to keep that kind of a secret.
A hand gently touched my shoulder, and I looked up. Laches came to stand before me, and his face was serious.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "Something's bothering you."
I stiffened, but he hurriedly spoke again. "I won't pry. I promise. But I want to know."
I weighed my options, and I really didn't want to tell him, but I had made a promise to Shana. I met his eyes, begging that he would hear me out and listen. I didn't want to be rejected. I whispered hi name, and there was a change in his expression. He recoiled and turned away, scowling.
"It's just--"
"Nevermind!" he interjected loudly, his voice ringing out.
"But you said--"
"Stop it!" He covered his ears like a child. "Be quiet! Stop talking!"
"That's not fair!" I fumed, suddenly more angry than I was embarrassed. I stood up to emphasize my feelings. "You wanted to know so stop being a baby! Now, be a gentleman and listen! I'm in--"
"Shut up!" he shouted again, and he was suddenly gone.
I fell to the floor, furious and unsatisfied by how it went. I could feel the tears of anger dripping down, and I pounded my fists on the floor. Tantrums. Great. And now I was literally crying like a little kid again. This was way worse than any other outburst though. It wasn't fair. I was rejected before I could even tell him what was going on.
Did you ever get that pain in your chest where it was so hard to breathe because that's how much it hurt? That's how much you loved someone? That they were leaving? That you could never be with them? It felt like my heart was trying to escape from its confines, and I clutched my chest, and I knew it wasn't just anger that overwhelmed me.
I was standing on the balcony to my room, and the moon was brilliantly bright. I had calmed down and could not sleep, could not stop thinking of strategizing on what to do next. If Laches didn't want to know, then so be it. I'll keep it a secret till the day I die, even if he begged me to tell him. Unsatisfying.
I felt the familiar and sudden presence of Laches behind me, thinking nothing of it. But then he moved closer and pressed the side of his face on me.
Cold fingers wrapped around my arm with enough pressure to make me wince, but his grip slackened when he saw the grimace pass over quickly on my face. The look in his eyes made me want to cry because I wanted to tell him even after my childish vow. Why was I so scared? Maybe because we were so different. Maybe it was awkward after being raised by him. Maybe it was because I didn't think it would work out or that he wouldn't want me. Inferiority amongst so many other reasons.
My heart raced at the tension, the attention, and the intentions, suffocating me as I waited for him to say my name. I wanted to hear his voice, smooth and lyrical, deep and soothing. Instead, his dark eyes hardened into a deep frown, searching my own for an answer to an unspoken question. The etches in his face loosened up, and a faint smile played at the corner of his lips. He touched my cheek tenderly, eyes filled with so much emotion, the moments heightened, like one of those scenes in the movie where the guy gets the girl, or in my case, the girl gets the guy and they kiss.
But he didn't kiss me. I didn't "get the guy". I was just a human girl; he really was a vampire, guys. He was a cold and disdainful man and acted on his own feelings, indifferent towards others. But I still wanted him. I'll admit to being selfish and greedy if I could have him.
But.
No matter how much I wanted him, it wouldn't happen. Even if I said I could get over my teenage crush and that everything would be like before, I knew he couldn't accept it after he found out. The damage had been done.
He leaned forward. . .
. . . his cold breath on my lips. . .
. . . his grey eyes displaying longing. . .
. . . passion. . .
. . . desire. . .
. . . and melancholy.
I closed my eyes. . .
. . . and. . . .
Before I knew it, he was gone. . . .
The moon was still there . . . brilliantly bright.
The night was still calm.
The sky was still clear.
And the stars still sparkled.
But the house felt empty.
And my heart felt empty.
But right before he left, it was almost like he said "I love you".
Cold fingers wrapped around my arm with enough pressure to make me wince, but his grip slackened when he saw the grimace pass over quickly on my face. My heart raced at the tension, the attention, and the intentions, suffocating me as I waited for him to say my name. Instead, his dark eyes hardened into a deep frown, searching my own for an answer to an unspoken question. The etches in his face loosened up, and before I knew it, he was gone. . . .
[In the Point of View of Lilia]
It was early December, and the rain was pelting the pavement, the street slick and gleaming beneath the dim lights of the lamps, my only guidance home. There was no moon to offer more lighting, only black clouds to further dramatize the gloomy scenery. Huge puddles lay scattered before me, a pool of black liquid, the drops of rain making large splashes on the surface. I pulled my scarf closer around my neck as a strong gust of wind whipped my hair aside, shifting the rain so that it splattered on my bare legs. Groaning, I wiped the water off, and a low chuckle trailed from the right.
Perhaps a bit too paranoid, I spun around and peeked into the dark alleyway, ready to confront whoever it was that was watching me. A pair of bright blue orbs suddenly stared back at me and blinked once, fading back into the pitch black. Rustling could be heard, growing louder as it neared me, and a dark figure came into view. I swallowed in anxiety and took a step backwards, raising my fists. There was no way I was going to become a missing person without a good fight, even if I was shaking in my boots. Then again, no worries. Like I said, I was a bit too paranoid. I sighed in relief as the familiar person materialized from the darkness. It was Laches, my caretaker, if you will.
"You're late," was all he said before taking the umbrella from my hand, brushing against my skin ever so slightly and raising it over the both of us. I smiled and walked beside him quickly, his stride being longer than my own. I looked up at him and said, "Were you worried about me?" but he didn't answer, purposely speeding up so I had to stumble after him.
When we arrived home, an old manor where the governor of a few centuries ago had once resided, Laches quickly stepped away from me and dropped the umbrella to the floor. I picked it up and shook the drops of water off, staring at his back as he walked briskly to the living room. Once I set it aside, I tapped my shoes on the mat and followed him into the large but scantily furnished room until I was just a foot or so away from him. He stood completely still, staring into the fire inside the hearth, water dripping from the ends of his hair, and his shirt was wet from the rain. Reaching out to grasp a lock of his darkened hair, I stepped forward, but he swung his arm to repel me as if he was expecting me to do it. The fire crackled, illuminating his gorgeous yet immaculate face, a small frown set into his brow. His now grey eyes looked cold and almost disdainful.
“Don’t touch me," he said, straining to say the words.
I was miffed by his reaction. “Sorry. I thought living together for twelve years was enough time for us to grow comfortable around each other."
". . . I don't like body contact, Lilia," Laches replied after a brief hesitation.
"Come on! It's not like your hair could feel my fingers pressing it. I just wanted to see how much water would drip if I squeezed it. I'm oddly curious."
"It wouldn't be so wet if you came home on time."
"Don't try to blame it on me, mister! I didn't say you had to come pick me up."
"You were late. I was worried. Now leave me alone."
He turned back to the fire, gazing into the trembling flames, and I felt a strange tugging inside of me as if my insides were being sucked into an abyss. I gave no mind to it and smiled warmly at Laches, climbing the stairs to my bedroom.
I changed out of my damp skirt and jacket and pulled on an oversized shirt and gym shorts, discarding my socks into the laundry basket inside my closet. Thunder erupted from the sky, and lightning ripped through the darkness, the light fading back to the glow of the candles. Outside from the balcony, I could hear the wind howling relentlessly as the rain attacked the window. As an added effect to the should-be frightening room, the faint lights casted shadows over my hammock of stuffed animals and handmade dolls, looking quite voodoo-like. However, I was used to this on nights like these, and as long as it was warm, I didn't mind the constant groaning of the house.
I pushed a button on my stereo that was sitting on top of my bookshelf across from my bed, and numbers popped up, indicating the time: 10:47 PM. Laches was right; I was over an hour late coming home. Thankfully, he cared enough about me to come find me in such violent weather like this. I felt much safer with him walking beside me so late in the night; years of constant gameplay of horror video games like Fatal Frame and Clocktower had corrupted my mind with suspicion of angry ghost farmers and an over-sized man wielding a sledgehammer running after me and shouting in a raspy voice, "Lilia! Where are you?!” Now nice and warm at home, I was sleepy, but I was also hungry. It had been five hours since I last ate, and I knew that if I went any longer without food, I would keel over and die. Or at least break out into a thick sweat and faint.
I slipped back out my room quietly, aiming for sneakiness so Laches wouldn't notice, considering he liked to make hints I had too big of an appetite, but I knew it was pointless. His hearing was at such a ridiculous sensitivity, he'd hear anything light-years away, a feat even Superman couldn't accomplish. Quite honestly, it was true. If he concentrated hard enough, Laches could see what was going on in a person's mind, and that was no trouble at all for him. Maybe that didn't have anything to do with his hearing ability, but still, it was undeniably remarkable. His senses were heightened, his body and mind honed to the superiority beyond any other beings, and he was breathtakingly beautiful to the point he would look good in even a dishrag. Why was he so perfect? Well, it was quite simple when the boundaries of imagination were severed: my dearest Laches was not at all human.
He once was, most certainly, but now where his heart rests, it lay dormant and unbeating. His body was cold and hard like marble, skin pulled taut over his well-defined muscles, and the blood that ran through his veins served no other purpose but to relinquish to another to create one of his kind. He had appetite yet knew not hunger, and his senses were heightened yet he could not feel small, physical pain. Laches was so human to me, but he was so far beyond that frailty. I saw him as a normal person like everybody else, but I knew he was what he was and always will be: a vampire.
Perhaps it was because I'd spent twelve of my seventeen with him so I was accommodated to his strange habits. I remember so vividly the night Laches had carried me out of the burning house, risking his body just to help me, a stranger only five years old. That night, I became an orphan and was taken in by him. Since then, I don't remember him being an affectionate man; he was always distant and aloof though it's not to say he was a cruel person. After all, he had saved me. I knew that underneath his stony exterior was a soft and compassionate core. The juxtaposition of his two contrasting personalities had me running in circles though. For some reason, no matter the occasion, I always had to be wary of doing things that would cause him further irritation than he already naturally had. Small things like a high-five or a pat on the back were often prohibited, and hugs and the joining of hands was an unspeakable. Really, what a high-maintenance guy! But despite that, I cherished every moment I had with him, every little argument and small favors because I knew my days were limited, because eventually, I would die.
I walked into the kitchen without flipping the lights on and opened the fridge expectantly. My face dropped when all I saw were a few cans of soymilk and an empty tray for eggs. Laches had a vault of money, maybe two or three more, but we didn't even have food in the fridge. He didn't expect me to turn vampire and start hunting for my meals, did he?
Sighing in annoyance that I would have to go grocery shopping the next day, most likely still rainy weather, I slammed the door and turned around. I let out a startled scream and stumbled backwards, catching myself on the counter.
"Laches!" I gasped, steadying myself. "Don't sneak up on me!"
"There's food on the table," he replied, vanishing just as quickly as he had come.
"Really?"
Huh, I thought. Laches made me food. How strange of him. Very suspicious.
The lights suddenly flickered on in the dining room, drawing me to it. Indeed, sitting on the table was a bowl of steaming porridge looking quite lonely all alone. I plopped down in the cushioned chair eagerly, already shoving the spoon into the surface of the porridge. I scooped the rice and a piece of egg, shoveling it into my mouth without letting it cool down first. Bad idea. My throat burned even as I sucked in air to try and relieve my searing mouth, eyes tearing. As I ladled another spoonful, I tapped my nails on the table, strategizing on how to draw Laches back out and lure him into a conversation.
"Pretty good, Laches," I said thickly through a mouthful of rice. "By the way, I'm just curious. I never see you eat. Do you do it late, late, late at night when I'm asleep?"
"Why does it matter?" Laches had suddenly appeared beside me, his ragged dark brown hair falling over his eyes. He planted a palm flat against the table beside my hand and kept his gaze averted from me. I continued to eat, speaking after every couple of swallows.
"I don't know," I shrugged. "But don't you ever get hungry and want to eat?"
"Having hunger and wanting to eat are two different concepts."
"Yeah, yeah, if you want to get all technical, Wise Guy. Which do you have then: hunger or appetite?"
A dark smile crept onto his face, his eyes veiled by his bangs. "A little bit of both."
"Then you should go fill yourself up."
"Impossible. It's been quite a while since I've last fed. You were not yet even in the double digit age yet."
With that, Laches disappeared again, leaving me to ponder over what he said while slurping at the porridge.
That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to find peace to sleep. Laches had not fed for several years, and it was funny that I hadn't noticed it before. Human or not, nothing could survive without sustenance, but was it proper to say that Laches was living? Either way, why would he risk his existence by not feeding? Sure, he was immortal and indestructible to an extent, but did that mean blood was not necessary for him? What could have made him stop feeding? Did he do so willingly? I, for one, could never live without food besides the fact that I needed it.
I sat up immediately as a memory replayed in my head, something I had long forgotten. It happened a few months after he had taken me in, and I had already grown comfortable around Laches. He never took me out, but I didn't mind because I had always felt safe and protected when I was with him. I felt like fear could never enter my life. Then, one night when the moon was shining brightly through my curtains, I felt a draft and heard a loud thump on the floor. It woke me up right away, hiding beneath my blankets and peeking out at the same time. The room was illuminated by the moon so when it happened, I could see everything clearly. Beyond the transparent canopy of my bed, I caught sight of Laches holding someone down. My eyes wandered up and up curiously at the two until I saw the horrifying image of his teeth sunken into the stranger's neck, a small trickle of blood streaming down onto his collar. The man was not moving.
My scream had broken through the deafening silence, and Laches immediately dropped the man, free from the trance he was in and the red glint in his eyes fading. As his eyes regained their normal grey color, I saw the worry that engulfed him as he licked his lips, and I was still screaming, unable to control myself. My screams only frightened me more, but I couldn't stop, afraid of what would happen if it became silent again. Laches came forward and drew me into his arms, cradling me, soothing my screams into helpless sobbing. I did not want to look at the body, so I buried my face into his shirt. He was the one that had killed the man, that had done something I knew even as a child was wrong and inhuman, but I still sought comfort and protection from him.
"I'm sorry, Lilia," he murmured in a rush. "I won't do it again. Promise. Now stop crying."
I had nodded over and over, tremors shaking throughout my body, and it took me half the night to fall back asleep, cradled in his arms. He stayed with me that night and every night until I was seven. That night was the only time I'd ever seen him break from his stony composure, and he had kept his word. He continued to deny himself his food just to keep me from being afraid.
I leapt out of bed and bounded for his room, way down into the dungeons, feeling terrible suddenly. I opened the door leading down, and a gust of icy cold air rushed into the guest room where the entrance was located. I shivered and looked down at the railess winding ramp, so that if I tripped, I would fall to meet my doom. Even so, I hurried down on the tips of my toes and spotted his room. I paused before it, debating if I should enter or not, but I knew I had to talk to him. I swallowed my anxiety and pushed it open, stepping inside quietly. Laches was fast asleep on his bed, laying flat on his back, the room illuminated by flickering candles. I leaned over him and peered at his serene face. He seemed so fragile and delicate like this, face smooth and free of his signature glares. He looked like such a nice guy, what with his pretty face and all.
Trying to wake him, I snorted and puffed my not-so-pleasant breath in his face and hoped that his super sensitive nose would be able to sniff it even asleep, but he remained motionless. For an attentive vampire, he sure was dead asleep. I even brushed my hair along his nose and won no response. He could have died a while ago for all I knew. No breaths came out of him, and his chest did not move up and down.
Forgetting why I was there in the first place, in this gloomy and depressing dungeon, I sank to my knees and pressed my cheeks against the back of my hand, watching Laches do absolutely nothing. I was getting restless from looking at his face, almost like a Noh mask, and that led me to think about the red cheeks on it. That in turn led me to wonder if Laches' cheeks could be as red. Curious, I reached out with my free hand to pinch his face, but his hand shot out and gripped my wrist. His eyes slowly opened, a bored look on his face as if he was awake the whole time.
"What?" he sighed, still holding me with his frigid fingers.
"Uh, I wanted to see if your cheeks go red," I said stupidly.
"What did I say about body contact, Lilia?"
"Make sure my hands are clean?" I smiled meekly. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. And I'm sorry again that it was because of me that you don’t . . . eat . . . or drink . . . or whatever."
Laches chuckled to my surprise. "That's why you came down here?"
He finally released my hands and sat up, elbow resting on his one drawn knee, long tapered fingers pressed delicately against his pale fingers. His glassy nails gleamed in the candle light.
"Why are you worrying about that now?" he mused, studying my face intently.
"I remember why you stopped feeding. I'm not a little girl anymore so you don't have to spare my feelings."
Remarkably, he laughed again and grabbed both of my arms. Pulling me into an embrace, he rested his chin on the top of my head, his voice echoing throughout the enormous room. Confused, I stayed still and stuttered incoherently, but he ignored it and spoke before I could get an identifiable word out of my dry mouth.
"Stop worrying, Lilia," Laches said. "It's been so long; I've learned how to cope without blood now. I don't need to survive like a leech anymore."
"Uhhh. . ."
It was strange and awkward, what with Laches' uncommon affections being directed towards me. I was suddenly self-conscious about how I felt against him as I could feel the coldness of his body, seeping through his black shirt, chilling me. My face tingled at the unusual contact, and something in me had sprouted. Somewhat unaware, I reached out to hold him in return. However, he suddenly pushed me away forcefully as if disgusted by me. He was at the door before I could fully realize, and he looked at me coldly.
"Go back to your room," he muttered and vanished.
The next morning, I tried my best to steer clear of Laches. Last night's event made me feel terribly embarrassed, and I couldn't face him without going into an internal hysteric. Worse was that if he noticed my fidgety behavior, he would be able to dive into my mind and see what turmoil was causing havoc in my head. I had to be extra sneaky and sly. I opened the front door and slammed it shut, running. As I turned the corner of the entrance of the stone fence, I collided into the wall and fell to the floor. I slapped my palms to my throbbing forehead as a few stray tears leaked out. I released an aggravated curse, and a burst of laughter erupted. Startled, I saw Laches leaning against the fence, head bowed down in uncontrollable laughter. Realizing I had run into Laches, I scowled as I stood up.
"Why are you outside?" I said. He pulled down his shaded glasses, and the sun hit his eyes, a light blue color, glinting in the light. The sun reflected against his nails like the light off a window, and his skin was incredibly pasty in the brightness. "Be careful that no one sees you dazzle and sparkle."
"You're telling me to be careful?" Laches scoffed. "Why are you running around so early this morning?"
"Iuno," I mumbled, looking at my own nails.
"Hn. There's no use be secretive."
At this, I fled back into the house and into the living room, but he was way too fast. I felt the strange tingle in my head as he tried to pry into my mind, and I busied myself with singing Christmas songs only I didn't know the whole lyrics. Stupid Christmas carols. He frowned and then smiled, breaking through. Suddenly, he was knocked over to the side, and in his place stood a glamorous woman with brown hair and pale skin. "Oh, praise the almighty Buddha!" I gasped. It was Shana, his older sister.
"Hey, baby brother!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "And my lovely little human! Lilia, your hair is so long and pretty now! I just want to dress you up, you cutie!"
"Thanks?" I smiled in confusion.
"Why are you here?" Laches demanded.
"I'm here to check on Lilia, you dummy!"
"She's fine so go home."
"He's lying!" I protested. "He's trying to get into my head!"
"Did you say 'bed' or 'head'?"
"Head."
"Your head?!" Shana gasped dramatically. "What a naughty boy!"
Laches rolled his eyes as she laughed at the sarcasm, and I took the chance to race upstairs and into my room.
[Laches]
I ignored Shana as she twirled her hair thoughtfully, green eyes peering through the ceiling to watch Lilia. I sunk into the couch with my arms folded across my chest. Something about Lilia had changed recently, and it bothered me to no ends not knowing exactly what it was. All I knew was that I didn't particularly enjoy it.
"What's going on?" Shana asked. "Something's different about Lilia. Surely you notice it too."
I paused before answering. "She smells different, and I don't like it."
"Really? I think she smells good."
"That's not what I meant. She smells sweet and attractive, and it's bothering me that I'm so drawn to it. I know it's faint now, but it will grow stronger. Shana, I'm beginning to thirst for her blood."
"Oh, stop brooding."
"Can you be serious, or is that just too difficult for you? You are aware that I haven't fed for twelve years."
"But you had grown accustomed to it."
"I'm weakening. I may have to leave soon."
[Lilia]
I was at school for half of the day, and I was worried that Laches would find a time to read my mind. The thoughts I didn't want him to find . . . well, I couldn't exactly put my finger on it wither. I wasn't sure what I was so scared of. However, Shana promised he wouldn't pry anymore, but she'd be leaving tonight for Italy so she couldn't protect me. Before she left, she came into my room with a smile on her face.
"You love Laches," she stated simply. I stammered and denied it, but she laughed and pushed the issue further. I shushed her as she continued.
"It's okay," she said. "It's okay for you to love him."
"Is that it? Is it . . . because I love him . . . that I feel so awkward? Am I in love with Laches?"
"That's why you smell different."
"I do?"
"Yeah; it's quite pleasant. Lilia. I am thrilled . . . that you care about him this much. But please promise me you'll be careful around Laches. You know it's been a long time since he last drank, and you're emitting this sweet aroma now."
"Don't worry; I won't let him find out about how I feel. It's too sudden. He won't like this."
"You need to tell him how you feel. I'm sure he'll understand, and everything will be fine. It will all work out. It's a promise, okay?"
Shana left, and it was past midnight now. I was sitting in front of the living room fire, staring blankly into it and thinking. When did it happen? When did I fall in love? Was it the night I met him for the very first time? Was it when he held me? Was it when I realized what he had sacrificed for me? Yes, yes, yes! It was all that and so much more! Yet I wanted to cry because I didn't know how to hide it or if I should tell him. I knew I couldn't live with him if I had to keep that kind of a secret.
A hand gently touched my shoulder, and I looked up. Laches came to stand before me, and his face was serious.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "Something's bothering you."
I stiffened, but he hurriedly spoke again. "I won't pry. I promise. But I want to know."
I weighed my options, and I really didn't want to tell him, but I had made a promise to Shana. I met his eyes, begging that he would hear me out and listen. I didn't want to be rejected. I whispered hi name, and there was a change in his expression. He recoiled and turned away, scowling.
"It's just--"
"Nevermind!" he interjected loudly, his voice ringing out.
"But you said--"
"Stop it!" He covered his ears like a child. "Be quiet! Stop talking!"
"That's not fair!" I fumed, suddenly more angry than I was embarrassed. I stood up to emphasize my feelings. "You wanted to know so stop being a baby! Now, be a gentleman and listen! I'm in--"
"Shut up!" he shouted again, and he was suddenly gone.
I fell to the floor, furious and unsatisfied by how it went. I could feel the tears of anger dripping down, and I pounded my fists on the floor. Tantrums. Great. And now I was literally crying like a little kid again. This was way worse than any other outburst though. It wasn't fair. I was rejected before I could even tell him what was going on.
Did you ever get that pain in your chest where it was so hard to breathe because that's how much it hurt? That's how much you loved someone? That they were leaving? That you could never be with them? It felt like my heart was trying to escape from its confines, and I clutched my chest, and I knew it wasn't just anger that overwhelmed me.
I was standing on the balcony to my room, and the moon was brilliantly bright. I had calmed down and could not sleep, could not stop thinking of strategizing on what to do next. If Laches didn't want to know, then so be it. I'll keep it a secret till the day I die, even if he begged me to tell him. Unsatisfying.
I felt the familiar and sudden presence of Laches behind me, thinking nothing of it. But then he moved closer and pressed the side of his face on me.
Cold fingers wrapped around my arm with enough pressure to make me wince, but his grip slackened when he saw the grimace pass over quickly on my face. The look in his eyes made me want to cry because I wanted to tell him even after my childish vow. Why was I so scared? Maybe because we were so different. Maybe it was awkward after being raised by him. Maybe it was because I didn't think it would work out or that he wouldn't want me. Inferiority amongst so many other reasons.
My heart raced at the tension, the attention, and the intentions, suffocating me as I waited for him to say my name. I wanted to hear his voice, smooth and lyrical, deep and soothing. Instead, his dark eyes hardened into a deep frown, searching my own for an answer to an unspoken question. The etches in his face loosened up, and a faint smile played at the corner of his lips. He touched my cheek tenderly, eyes filled with so much emotion, the moments heightened, like one of those scenes in the movie where the guy gets the girl, or in my case, the girl gets the guy and they kiss.
But he didn't kiss me. I didn't "get the guy". I was just a human girl; he really was a vampire, guys. He was a cold and disdainful man and acted on his own feelings, indifferent towards others. But I still wanted him. I'll admit to being selfish and greedy if I could have him.
But.
No matter how much I wanted him, it wouldn't happen. Even if I said I could get over my teenage crush and that everything would be like before, I knew he couldn't accept it after he found out. The damage had been done.
He leaned forward. . .
. . . his cold breath on my lips. . .
. . . his grey eyes displaying longing. . .
. . . passion. . .
. . . desire. . .
. . . and melancholy.
I closed my eyes. . .
. . . and. . . .
Before I knew it, he was gone. . . .
The moon was still there . . . brilliantly bright.
The night was still calm.
The sky was still clear.
And the stars still sparkled.
But the house felt empty.
And my heart felt empty.
But right before he left, it was almost like he said "I love you".
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