New Sight

I wake up in a dark room, light entering through small cracks in the curtains, hurting my very tired eyes.

I ache all over; I scan my body, witnessing some dark, purple bruises where I was bitten. All the wounds have healed though, and I seem to be okay.

I get out of bed, dragging my feet with me. I scan the room this time, and see no-one. Not even… Eric. Why would Eric be here? I almost laugh to myself – he left me, for dead. He didn't protect me.

Wait, I stop myself upon another scan of the room. Eric's not here. This isn't Eric's room either. The dark room is unrecognizable; somewhere I haven't been before.

How did I get here? Was I saved? Is Kyle safe? A million questions flutter inside me.

I walk over to the window, pushing the blinds apart, letting the sun spill into the room, just as a precaution. My eyes adjust to the light.

I wait in the room, nestled back in the soft sheets of the bed. My breathing is calm, but I am not. Am I safe? I bring my knees to me, and wait, calmly, remembering everything that's happened.

A knock on the door interrupts me. I sit up, grabbing the sheets with me as I sit against the headboard.

"Come in," my voice a squeak, the most I can manage. Fear builds, but I relax to see Kyle's golden locks pop through the door, followed by his face, which holds a very comforting smile. He makes me smile, and for that quick second I forget all that's happened.

"Ronnie!" he almost screams, delighted. "You're finally awake!" He jumps into the bed, his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him. I put my two arms around him, and snuggle my head in the warmth of his chest.

"We've been so worried about you; we thought you'd never wake up," he says, his voice shaky.

"How long have I been asleep?" I ask as I put his words into context.

"You've been asleep for just over six days," he says, breathing a sigh of relief. He hugs me tighter.

Six days; six-flipping days? I quickly do the maths; I've been unconscious for 144 hours? Shit!

"Ah."

"Yes, we've been so worried. My dad and yours are out, hunting a vampire. Your dad hasn't left your side once, and today, we finally persuaded him, you know… to go," he says.

I don't say anything. I'm speechless. Six days? Poor dad, he must've been so scared. I mentally castigate myself. He lost mum, not it could have been me.

I smile gently at Kyle, but he pulls me away, staring darkly into my eyes. He's hiding something from me. The atmosphere changes from happy to mysterious.

"Ronnie, do you remember what they did to you?" he mutters. I flinch.

"Kyle, I don't want to remember. Please, don't," I whisper, almost a cry. The truth is that I don´t remember much. Apart from the key details; Antoinne and Eric, and then seeing and feeling death hovering over me.

"Okay, don't worry." He says. "It's fine. It's just that, well… Eric… he… erm," he begins.

Eric? What about him? Something inside me clicks at the mention of his name. My heartbeat accelerates, and I redden – I am let down by my feelings, because I just wish I could hate him for what he did, rather than love him.

"Eric… well, he brought you here. He fed you his blood, and you're alive now, because of him. You were dying," he says; it all comes out as a rush, and I feel like I'll need years to process it.

"What?" I breathe. I don't think he hears me.

"Anyway, I just thought you should know that…" he pauses. Is Eric dead? Guilt, sadness and loss all erupt through me. No. "…Eric is downstairs; in the basement."

Eric is here? He's here? Momentarily, I light up. I leap out of bed, yanking the door open, holding onto the banister and running down the stairs.

"Ronnie, wait!" Kyle screams behind me. I turn round to him, stopping on the stairs. He catches up, and sits on the stairs. I sit beside him and give him a hurry-up look. I need to see Eric, especially if what he says is true!

"Ronnie, he says he wants to die," he says; his words are blunt, but cut like a knife. What? He nods at my look. "He asked to be spared, just until you woke up. He wanted to know if you'd make it through. Go see him, just… be careful, OK? He hurt you," Kyle says.

"He also saved my life Kyle," I lean in, hugging him. I smile, reassuring him that I'll be okay. I get up, and sprint the rest of the way downstairs again.

I open the basement door, step in, and close it behind me. It's dark, and the smile I held only seconds ago seems to disappear completely from my face. I grab the banister of the basement stairs, but instead of running down, I take my time. I come to the bottom of the stairs, turn the light on, and see a figure. Eric.

He is sitting against the wall, the opposite wall to where the stairs are. He does not look up, or flinch at the light. He has his legs pulled up against him, and his arms around them, his face dropped, burrowed in between his legs and chest.

I do not move forward because I'm scared. I'm scared of myself, I'm scared of the room, but mostly I'm scared of him. I step up instead, and sit on one of the stairs.

I see his hands are chained up, silver digging into his skin, but know this is nothing to him. He's not in pain like I was. He's stronger than the chains. He can easily escape; but he doesn't want to.

"Eric," I whisper, into the room. He doesn't move. He's still; is he sleeping?

"Eric, please look at me," I say again. This time, he answers. He obeys. He gently lifts his head to look up at me. I gasp.

Eric sits, quietly, his eyes and cheeks surrounded by pools of blood. He's been crying. I look at him, blink and look again. He stares at me, not speaking, frightening me.

"Eric, what's wrong?" I ask.

If not for being afraid, I would run over to him, and wrap him in my arms. But I can't bring myself to do that – he left me, and it hurt. It hurt so badly.

He doesn't answer, so I am forced to continue.

"Eric, please. Kyle told me you wanted…" I can't say it. I gulp. "…To die. What's wrong?"

His mouth opens at my voice, and he whispers, so that I can barely hear him, his eyes wide "You."

I flinch, it hurts. Me? I'm causing him this pain? I'll be responsible for his death?

"I don't understand," I mutter, unwelcome tears threatening to barge through my eyes, because though he hurt me, though I can´t bring myself to step forwards and touch him, I know that I want this man – badly – and if I live in a world without him, I don´t know how I´ll be able to watch time pass. I wipe my eyes, and he frowns.

"You," he repeats. This time it's louder, and his answer cuts into me, leaving me in as much pain as I was… then. I put both my hands around my body, holding me in place. I feel like I could break any minute, fragile, useless, and unwanted.

"Don't you see?" he says, his voice startling me. I would do anything to hear him, and his words manage to lift my head up so that I can see his bloody face and his piercing blood-red eyes, that are so familiar to me now.

"I didn't protect you," he says, disappointment and shame running in his voice. "I am so sorry Ronnie," he continues. "And you screamed, and screamed, calling for me – but my hatred blinded me. It was too late when I got to you; there was no life in you. I'd never felt so responsible, so helpless. You wouldn't drink. God! You wouldn't," he runs his hands sharply through his hair. "I tried feeding you, but you wouldn't take it. I felt unwanted; as if you were rejecting me as well as my blood."

I stare at him, begging for more. I've never heard him like this. He looks miserable, lifeless, weak… dead. He waits for me to speak, but I can't. Most of all I'm still afraid of him.

"I brought you here. I knew you'd be safe. But you still wouldn't drink. And you were dying, fading. I could feel your heartbeat, slow, unnatural. Whenever you're around me," he says, a small smile lights up his face, "your heartbeat accelerates," his face drops as he continues. "But then, you were lying in my arms, so weak, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing. I'd caused this, and there was no way of reversing it."

"Then, I tried feeding you again. You clutched to me, with all the strength your fragile body had left, and you finally drank," he says, smiling once more and breathing out heavily in relief. "And then I left. I knew you were going to be okay."

"When you were feeding from me… I swear I've never felt so happy. Knowing that you were okay, that you were going to be okay. Feeling your heartbeat beneath me, accelerating…" he pauses, smiling softly at me, remembering the moment.

My heart melts as he smiles at me. Seeing him happy, makes me happy, but I still don't understand why he hates me.

"You've brought me to life, Ronnie. Since the day we met, I've been feeling emotions I didn't know could exist. You've brought these feelings to me, but mostly you've brought me love. I can love, because of you. I love, you," he says, whispering the last sentence.

That´s the moment I change. I'm no longer afraid. I walk forward, towards him, letting my feet stop only a metre from where he still sits. I sit on the floor, and cross my legs; he mirrors me.

All of a sudden I´m angry and when I next speak, my voice is louder than imagined. It´s as if he meddles with my emotions, unable to let me feel what I want to feel. I still feel anger and hate towards this being because he did leave me to die.

"You say you love me! I nearly died because of you!" I almost scream at him.

"I know, and I am sorry. I am so sorry…" it´s the only thing that seems to be flowing out of his mouth.

"You promised me you´d protect me! How could you have let them hurt me like that? They stripped me; they would have killed me!" The words are firing out of my mouth, hitting him with pain that registers on his face. He regrets it, and I understand, but I can´t feel anything but anger. My tears begin to roll down my face in response.

"Ronnie, please don´t be angry with me," he pleads, his hands reaching out to me, cloths for my eyes.

"I´ve been unconscious for a week!" I say, flinching away from his touch.

"Please Ronnie," he pleads again when I refuse his touch. "Please don´t be angry with me. I can´t go, I can´t leave knowing you hate me."

I take a minute to re-adjust and calm down. I´d be foolish to give him a second chance, but I know deep down that he deserves it, that he really means me no harm. My heart responds by accelerating when my mind reminds me that he loves me.

"But I'm so confused. Why did you, why would you let them hurt me?" I say. He loves me, but he hurt me.

"When you mentioned Antoine, it's as if I exploded. I collapsed. He was my maker; he guided me, helped me, for a thousand years. Taught me everything I know. I'm sorry. I lost control; I was furious," he says, showing it in his eyes.

Guilt swarms over me, as if I am responsible for his sadness as well as my pain. His eyes however automatically calm as he looks at me. He smiles, hopeless.

"But, seeing you today… when you came down, and I looked at you… standing so far away from me. It hit me so hard. You were afraid of me, you still are. I can see it in your eyes. I don't expect you to forgive me; in a way I don't want you to. It's why I want to die. I can´t live in a world where you won´t forgive me because I hurt you. I can't live in a world where you won't want me, Ronnie."

"But I do," I whisper. "I do want you, and I do forgive you."

The words stutter unexpectedly out of my mouth. But as they leave, so does my hate, my anger, my blame… everything registered as negative about this being flies away, and I am just left with my heart. I am just left with my heart to give to Eric.

He smiles, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. He drops his head, as if what I've said isn't enough.

I move in closer, so that I'm on my knees. He can feel me move but doesn't look up to see me. I stand closer to him. I take in a deep breath, and bring my hand up to touch his face.

"I love you too," I whisper.

He looks up at me, into my eyes, not affected by how close we are to one another. I move my hand onto his cheek, wiping away his bloody-tears and he closes his eyes, relishing and enjoying my touch. He smiles, and then opens his eyes.

I'm forced to drop my hands from his face as he pulls me into his lap. His hands are restrained with the silver cuffs, that as I see now, have left stinging red marks on his skin.

He puts his arms round me, and I take this chance to release his hands from the cuff.

When I release him free, he shakes his hands, and then places them back around me, so that I am free to look after them. I caress the red wounds, and brush my warm human fingers over them.

"I love you Ronnie. I know I don´t deserve this second chance – " I stop him before he gets a chance to blame himself more.

"Eric, no. I´m sorry – I´m sorry for any pain I caused you. I´m sorry for Antoinne."

"It´s all in the past. Now it´s just me and you," he says, reassuring me.

We sit like this for a few minutes, and then out of nowhere, Eric speaks.

"Thanks," he whispers in my ear. "You know, I've never felt like this before."

"Neither have I," I confess.

"What?"

"I mean, I've never fallen for a vampire. You know, I normally do other things to them," I say, with a playful smile. I hear him chuckle.

"Are you going to go after Isaac and the others?" he says, his tone darkening. I know this makes him uncomfortable.

"I don't know. Would you like me to spare them?" I ask.

"I just don't want you to get hurt. I'm on your side, not theirs. I'd understand if you decided to hunt them," he says, his voice barely audible.

"I don't know," I repeat. "I just wish time could stop, and that we could stay like this forever. Just us two."

"I do too," he mutters, breathing in the scent of my hair, just like that first night. "But I have to leave."

I cuddle up against his body and I too breathe in, and close my eyes. I do this because even though things seem to be back to normal, I still feel like Eric´s about to disappear, and so I treasure him. He says he has to leave, and his words confirm every fear of mine. I know he will leave, and I know I don´t have much time.

I feel him move, and he brings his head down to kiss me on the neck, like he has so many times before.