Night blanketed the house. Even the hum of appliances didn’t seem that loud tonight. The faint scent of candle wax and cake lingered in the air. Rain tapped against the windows in a constant patter.
Michael had pulled me aside before bed, a nervous scrunch in his brow. “Drew… You are one of the most important, if not the most important person in my life…” His words dropped off and I tried not to feel nervous myself. Michael wasn’t the kind of person to drop something heavy on a day like a birthday, but he rarely got this anxious.
He took a steadying breath, his hands holding mine. His thumb traced my knuckles as he fidgeted. His eyes searched mine as if looking for an answer to a question he was afraid to ask.
In my own eyes, I tried to convey that he could ask me anything, not wanting to interrupt whatever he was wanting to say. I squeezed his hands, trying to let him know he could tell me. I wished I could hear his thoughts in that moment, his eyes anxious but intent.
Finally, he said in a soft tone, voice trembling at first, “I want to help you feel more safe. I want it to be my arms protecting you. I want to hold you close as I drift off; I want your violet scent to carry me off into the dark… Would you like to stay in my bed tonight? Just sleeping, I promise,” he rushed to assure.
My chest swelled for him. Vampires didn’t need nearly as much sleep as mortals – only a few hours – but he still wanted to share those few hours with me. “I would love to stay with you tonight.” I rose up on my tiptoes, giving him a gentle kiss and hoping he could feel just how much I cared for him.
He returned the kiss, deepening it, pulling me closer.
That was when Antun walked by, saying, “Get a room you two. Goodness, if you’re going to eat her face Michael, at least have the decency to do it in private.” His sarcastic glare did nothing to help the blush that rushed up to my face.
“It’s her birthday, let her kiss wherever she wants,” Michael said, winking at the double-meaning that made my skin heat more. Even being in front of others, I had to admit that it was hot.
Syla pulled my arm, tugging me away from Michael. “You two stop teasing! Her face can’t get any redder.” She lead me away to the sound of Antun laughing, but as soon as we rounded the corner, she whispered, “So? You and Michael…” She lifted her brows suggestively.
Like she said, my face couldn’t get any redder, but it tried. “Just sleeping! None of the… Stop it!” I insisted quietly, hands trying to cool my cheeks.
She chuckled, bustling me up the stairs like a mother hen. The rest of the night passed in a blur, getting ready for the night and walking to the couch-bed instead of the guest room with Syla.
Michael held the covers open for me, and I tried not to blush all over again as I laid down next to him. Its not like it was the first time we’d ever laid down together, but… this was different. He’d invited me, not been comforting me.
Now, I laid beside him, his arm draped over my body and pulling me close to him. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest behind me at the same time his breath tickled my neck. The world felt safe, at least for the moment. Later, still wide awake, I stared into the middle distance as my thoughts began to plague me more deeply.
Was what we had actually love, or was it trauma in disguise? And whatever the case, did the past matter as much as the present? Perhaps it was better to focus on the now instead of how we got here. Right?
But if Nikola had never kidnapped me, Michael would’ve never gone looking for me; would’ve never stayed at my apartment. Would’ve never been there for those nightmares. Was I simply grateful and didn’t know how to properly show it because I’d never had friends?
Unwanted memories began to surface: the white room, its plush carpet and walls with the metal chair in the center. The cold. The yacht with its rocking, how I struggled to keep my feet under me. Nikola’s hands on me. His teeth above my heart. Searing pain – blinding light.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Breathe, Drew. I focused on the weight of Michael’s arm, the way my body fit against his like it was always meant to be there. I took several deep breaths, trying to match my breathing to Michael’s slower, sleepy pace. In, out. In, out.
I recalled the terror and numbness afterward. Michael’s presence had been my tether, the one steady thing in the dark. And that thought both comforted and unsettled me. I’d never needed someone like that before. Was it even normal to need someone that way? Or did my trauma mess me up so badly that I couldn’t even achieve normal anymore?
The memories continued like a movie that wouldn’t pause. In my mind, it was the night Nikola kidnapped Syla; the night he killed me. It was blindingly bright, then everything started turning gray and flat like a smeared watercolor. I vaguely remembered arms before the world went completely black.
But I could never forget the sound of his sobs, of him saying he was sorry. The way his voice cracked still haunted me. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he’d sobbed as he held my corpse, having not known that he’d been able to save me.
The grief of that night was carved into my silent heart. I was forever changed. There was no going back to the life I’d had before. My choice had been taken from me. I had come to accept that, but accepting it didn’t mean that it stopped hurting. There was my parents, still aging, who would one day die while I stayed forever young and alive. My grief had become something sacred, something uniquely mine.
Our relationship was forged in the middle of this mess. In the midst of vampire gifts, nightmares, and the Sirens of Spring we went from being coworkers to friends, and from there to, well… this.
I held the hand that was connected to the arm draped over me, feeling the callouses from our sword lessons on his fingers and palm. A harsh question haunted me no matter how much I tried to ignore it: could love born in catastrophe live outside of it?
As if trying to comfort me even in sleep, his arm tightened around me. I felt so conflicted about what I should be feeling at all. Michael saved my life… and helped end it. Both things were true. And I knew Michael well, but how well did I really know him? If someone were to ask me his favorite color, I’d have no clue how to answer. And I thought I knew him well enough to date him? To sleep next to him?
Well, what was dating if not getting to know another person on a deeper level? Its not like I couldn’t get to know him as a friend, but just what were these feelings I had? Was it love and connection, or trauma manifesting? This was a bigger feeling than I’d ever had for anyone, even the guys I dated before. Affection collided with fear as my thoughts spiraled.
Maybe this wasn’t romance at all. It felt stronger, like gravity – two survivors orbiting the same wound. Maybe the circumstances were bound to bring us together. Or maybe we stuck together only because we understood each other.
But I couldn’t deny his gentleness, his patience. During my nightmares, he was always there, ready to help ground me and bring me back from the dark. He seemed to remember every small thing that steadied me, even before we began to date. He’d even gotten my coffee right before that. That had to mean something, didn’t it, when everything was added together?
And now, Nikola was gone. The vampires he’d turned had been quiet as far as we could tell. In all honesty, I didn’t really have to live here anymore. I didn’t need saving anymore. So… what now? Would I just continue to live here with everyone, with Michael? Or would I go back to the apartment?
I thought about my life before living here, the kind of independence I had. Just me and Husker, and the occasional visit from my parents. I hadn’t had any friends at all. I didn’t even really know my neighbors. The idea of going back to that felt lonelier than my fear itself.
I’d fallen in love in a time of need. But what would survive when the need was gone? I turned in his arms, facing him. He shifted, rolling onto his back, leaving his arm under my head as he cradled me to his side. He sighed and his breathing returned to its sleepy pace. I felt the rise and fall of his chest, rhythmic and grounding. Could I handle a life without him? Yes; I knew I was strong enough to do that.
But I didn’t want to. Not at all.
Rain drifted against the window in a steady, hypnotic drum. Again, I timed my breaths to the rhythm of Michael’s breathing, chasing the calm that he already had.
Almost like an actual voice in my head, the thought came: If it’s love, it will last. If it’s trauma, it will fade.
I wasn’t sure which fate I feared more.
Memories drifted and blurred. Michael’s evergreen eyes as he looked at me like I was the only one in the world. The sterile white of Nikola’s room, the wavy foam and thick carpet to absorb all the sound a prisoner could ever make. Candle wax melting, dripping down the side…
Exhaustion pulled me under, my thoughts unresolved as I slipped into the darkness.
