I always liked to imagine my life as an hourglass. Maybe like one of those ginormous ones J.K Rowling made up for the houses of Hogwarts, with rubies or emeralds or other such precious gems inside them. The points system was my life - if I did something good, I got more time. If I did something bad, it was like being in fast-forward.
I liked to think that my hourglass had opals in it, the kind that shine a different colour every time you glance at them. Unpredictable, and so, so beautiful.
Of course, in reality I was most likely beach sand. Unremarkable to look at, but made of so many different grains which have splintered off from god knows what and mixed and mingled to make a collective. Millions of different particles, each one unique, and by themselves, they would be useless. Maybe this was better than opals. I'll never know.
It surprises me how philosophical I am, now that my hourglass is about to run out. Every second, every breath, every heartbeat brings me closer to oblivion. Of course, he could save me, this handsome stranger who I thought I knew. But he won't. He has told me, over and over, that death is a much kinder fate than becoming like him.
Perhaps he cannot stand the thought of eternity with me. I know I can't, which is sad - but my thoughts are far too much for one person to handle, even if they were given all the time in the world to do so.
His eyes are as cold as his skin, and I can feel the chill from both as I am pinned against the wall of his house. He told me not to come here. I didn't listen. And now I will pay.
"You don't have to do this," I tell him, my voice strangely alien. As though someone else is speaking.
He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, an oddly human gesture. He always spurns humans. I'm lucky to have lasted this long, once I was drawn into his web. Into his life. Or his animation, seeing as he isn't truly alive.
I ran along the street, seeking to escape the rain as it poured down on me. I made it to the bus shelter and stood there, panting. My breath fogged the air. I felt cold and overly-warm all at the same time.
"Hello," I heard someone say, and I jumped, startled. I hadn't even realised I had company under the tin roof.
"Um, hi," I replied nervously as I turned. My eyes widened as I took in my companion. He was maybe four inches taller and deathly pale, and every instinct I had told me to run. But I couldn't. I was held there, hypnotised by his gaze. He had the most beautiful black eyes. Like onyx.
"I'm Tristan," I heard him saying, and he was smiling. Smirking. He knew the effect he had on me.
"Delilah," I breathed. "C-call me Lila."
"Lila..." he repeated, and my name blossomed as it rolled off his tongue, suddenly seeming so colourful and interesting, as though it were the best name he had ever heard. He stepped closer and took my hand, raising it to his lips. "Enchanting." He murmured against my skin.
My heart soared.
"I'm sorry." I say in the same odd voice. "I'm sorry for putting you in this position. I should've stayed away. I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't have come here," he replies harshly, eyes snapping open to show their hard black colour. Just like onyx. Hard and cold and unbearably beautiful.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Lila?" I heard a familiar voice say, sounding so much like an angel that it nearly broke my heart just to hear it.
"Yes?" I whispered into my phone, aware that I was clutching it far too tightly and unable to calm myself enough to loosen my grip.
"It's Tristan." The smile in his voice was apparent. "I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow."
"No, I have the day off." I managed.
"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, and so it became. He was magical, twisting reality so that everything seemed better. "Would you like to spend the day with me?"
I gulped.
"Lila?" Tristan said questioningly when I hestitated a beat too long.
"I would... I w-would love to!" I stammered.
I am silent. He is silent. We gaze at each other. He lets out a growl of frustration and releases me, moving to the other side of the room so fast that I don't even see it, only register that he is already there.
"Why couldn't you stay away!" he hisses, and I know he is angry at himself as much as me. "I warned you. I warned you!"
His glorious face was breathtaking, and only a handspan away from my own. I found myself lost in his eyes, falling deeper under his spell.
"If you were smart, you would run." He whispered.
"I'm not smart," I told him. "And I'm not leaving. I can't. Not now."
"You could die." he said suddenly. "I'm not safe to be around. I kill your kind for food. I could kill you."
"I would die without you anyway," I murmured. "I don't mind that death coming a bit sooner than planned. Life isn't so great for me."
He kissed me then, and my heart pounded so hard I thought it would beat it's way from my chest.
"Enchanting," he told me as I stared at him in wonder.
And then he is there again, and I am pinned again, and his eyes are full of pain. "I love you," he says quietly.
"I know." I reply. "I love you too."
"You have no idea..." his voice goes lower, predatory. "How hard it is to resist you."
"I shouldn't have come," I say simply. "This is my fault. You can't help what you are."
Tristan presses his lips to mine gently, mouthing the words that he cannot bear to say aloud, now that we both know I am about to die. He was a hunter before he met me. He is to become a hunter again. And I am the prey.
His lips brush down my jaw and come to rest on my throat, at the spot where my pulse is strongest. I feel him smile against it.
"Goodbye," I whisper.
And then there is pain. And then...
Nothing.