Afraid

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. I am breathing. My heart is beating. Blood is being pumped around my body. I am alive. I am breathing.

The first thing I see is that the blind on the window isn't fully closed. The light being let in hits me directly, warming my face. The warm is beautiful and wanted against the coldness of the bed. As I blink, I am brought in between darkness and an uncomfortable feeling when the light from the window hits my eyes. I close my eyes instantly and bring my hand over my face just in case.

Someone sits on the bed beside me and the bed sinks. I move my hand from my eyes but keep it elevated just in case the light still threatens me. I open my eyes, relieved that the light is no longer on my face. Eric is sat beside me, looking down at me, his face fully healed, but now wearing a dreadful and grievous look.

He moves his hand to touch my cheek, but I jump back. I don´t want him to touch me. Not yet.

His eyes cloud with fear and sadness and I am filled with guilt. I am forced to relax – I don´t want to see him like this, but things can´t go back to what they were before. Not when he lost control with me. He almost killed me. I shouldn't be making excuses for him.

No. That´s wrong – he didn't try to kill me; he just wasn't able to stop himself from feeding because he was ill and hurt, on the verge of death.

I wonder how long I was asleep recovering for this time. Are Kyle and the others home? If they are, does Kyle know what happened?

I look up at Eric, who is still silent, just looking at me. He holds his hands on his lap, and I notice that he is wearing different clothes. I immediately recognize the T-Shirt. It is Kyle´s – so I assume he either borrowed it, or was given the clothes by Kyle.

I smile at the shirt; I had given it to Kyle for his birthday last year. It is black, a V-neck shape, short-sleeved with grey buttons. I had loved it on him. It looks even better on Eric as it contrasts with his pale-white skin.

I look elsewhere, apart from his heartbreaking facial expression. His eyes seem clearer, far from the thirsty red and so I guess he is better. His body, were I remember all the other wounds being, seems clear and healed.

Although I won't let him touch me, I selfishly bring my arm to touch him. My fingers slither up his arm, and I see the effect of my touch on him as he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. I drop my arm.

"Are you okay?" I ask him, muttering my words.

Eric jumps up from the bed, running his hands through his head and moving towards the window. My heart stops once again as I fear he'll jump and leave as he has so often before. He turns his head towards me.

"I don't deserve you," he says, not answering my question. He is okay physically but inside... "You've nearly been on your deathbed. Again. Because of me. And still, you're asking me if I'm okay. You're perfect, innocent. I bring nothing but death to you."

He walks over to me again and sits back down on the bed, keeping his distance from me. I'm speechless, the only feeling able to be registered in my body is the burning sprouting from my neck. It hurts, and as I begin to touch it for the first time, I can feel a large bandage has been placed over it. I see Eric flinch from the corner of my eye, and I focus back on his face.

"I´m sorry," he says, but I can´t hear more than pain in his voice.

"Would you have killed me if I hadn't told you to stop?" I ask bluntly.

"Yes."

I look up at him. I know he is telling me the truth, that he´s being honest, but his honesty creates nothing but fear. He nearly killed me, after saying he loved me. He could have killed me. He´s made that clear. I could be dead now.

I bring the bed sheets closer to me, covering me further so that he can only see my face now. I grasp the sheet, as if I´m holding on to life. I look down, unable to understand my feelings for him anymore. I just want to be alone, without him. I need him to go. I want to be alone. I need to think. About everything that has happened, I need to think.

"Ronnie, please. Look at me," he says.

I don´t respond.

"Look at me," he says, this time it being an order.

I look up at him.

"Please understand it wasn't me. I was weak, thirsty and all that was registering through my mind was my urge to feed."

I'm speechless and I just want him to go. I need to be alone. Though the blind is now closed I remember the light. It´s daylight outside – he should be sleeping. He can´t go.

"Please forgive me," he begs. "Forgive me, Ronnie please."

I look into the face of the man whom I've been alone without. I've needed him so much, prayed for him to return and now that he´s here, I want him gone. Do I, really?

I know deep down that I´ll forgive him – no matter what he does, because that is how deep my affection for him is. I want nothing more than to be in his arms, for him to tell me he loves me, for him to kiss me, for him to make love to me again. I love him, but now, I don´t know what to feel for him. He hurt me, nearly killed me, would have if I hadn't stopped him.

I just need some time to think.

"It's daylight," he whispers. "I need to sleep, and I want you to rest. I've been regulating your heartbeat and it does not beat at its normal rhythm yet. I'm so accustomed to it, " he says, smiling a loved-up smile, "you're still not healed."

I move to the furthest side of the bed and wait for him to climb in. I feel him pull the covers over me and then from the corner of my eye I see him turn to the other side, so that our backs are to each-other. Eric is finally here. I want him and he wants me, but still we are miles from each other with a wild wilderness between us.

He understands I don´t want him near me, not yet so he keeps his distance.

She´s afraid of me again, and she won't speak to me. I have hurt her and she no longer wants me. I will wait until night-time and then leave. I have done her too much wrong – she will not forgive me.

I love her, but if I allow myself to be with her, I will continue to hurt her. It will be easier to leave her knowing this. If I know that she doesn't love me, it will be easier to leave.

I turn back to see her; her back is beautiful and thin and I want nothing more than to touch it.

I lean in closer to her. I will leave, but I am selfish and still want her to want me. I must be sure she does not want me. I have lost her too often now - I no longer want anyone or anything to keep us apart, not if she'll still want me.

My hand grasps hold of her pajamas, a soft silk. She turns around at my touch, and I back away, scared that she´ll push me further away from her, where I refuse to be. Instead she pulls me to her, and I lean my head on hers. She kisses my neck and I mirror her as I bring my lips to hers.

I rip the bandage from her neck and then slowly blow onto the two piercings my fangs have left behind, scarring her beautiful skin. I kiss them.

"Forgive me," I repeat again, and I clutch her gently around the waist, pulling her closer to me so that I can inhale one last time the beauty of her scent.

Now that I have seen the mark I have left her, I banish all the hopeful thoughts I was dreaming up only seconds ago. I am not good for her.

I will leave.