The Last Message:

Chapter Five

The world around me is growing clearer. My bridesmaids are lining up to go, my future mother-in-law continues her nervous hovering, and I'm expected to go any moment now. One hand is already gloved. As for the other….. I can't bring myself to cover the words. If I choose this now, I lose him forever. And if I don't, I lose the only stable thing in my life.

I love one every day without stopping to think about it. He comes easy to me. I love the other on those in-between days, when life is complex and enigmatic. He's a love I have to fight for. But which do I love more? Can love actually be measured? If love is measured in time, the choice is simple. Or what if love is measured instead by significant moments in our life…..

About the time his arms grew heavy around me, I remembered he was hurt. I pulled away, noting the way his long body sagged with exhaustion or how even the new smile gesture he presented me seemed half-hearted. It seemed we could not exist together without one or the other being in danger of some sort.

"How badly are you hurt?" I asked, tugging at the arm of his suit coat.

He shook his head, but he slipped out of the coat without argument. "Not very. It was only one stray shot."

I hmmmed quietly to myself, trying to shift the white shirt and see the wound without causing further damage. It was a pretty unsuccessful venture until he just stripped the shirt off as well. Were he human, I might have blushed, but I found his body was much like his face and hands, skin pulled tight over unshapely bones. I was more fascinated than embarrassed. The blood was slowing, but the bullet was still imbedded. My eyes traveled across his chest and stomach, frightened by the dozens of similar scars, layered on his skin. Soon my fingers followed the same path, lingering on the longest scars, laid like seams across his body.

His hand caught mine, squeezing it with warm reassurance.

"Don't worry about me, Cora. As soon as the bullet's out, I'll be good as new. They heal quickly."

"How many years of being hunted? How many bullets?"

"It doesn't matter. Right now it's only one bullet."

My mind was drawn to that first meeting, when he was so riddled with injuries, so frail. He almost died then, I was sure of it. He was not invulnerable; I had killed enough silents to know. But I had never healed one. I had to trust he knew what was best.

"What can I do?"

He made the smile gesture and it was reflected in his eyes as well.

"I'll be all right, really. I should be able to get the bullet out on my own. I'll call if I need you."

He touched my face and then slipped from the room. I heard him rummaging around in one of the backrooms, probably looking for tweezers of some kind.

I looked down at my dress, stained through. So much for that dance. With a sigh, I looked around for my phone, intending to finally call Jordan. Despite my feelings for my silent, I couldn't forget the ease with which I found myself drawn to the sweet, human boy. He deserved an explanation of some kind even if I had to lie.

I, at last retrieved the phone, glancing through the dozens of missed calls and text messages. What was I supposed to say to him?

My finger lingered over the dial, when my front door opened for the second time that night.

Jordan took one look at me and was at my side in an instant, touching my face, searching my eyes for an explanation, exclaiming with worry. I smiled at his concern, but I still struggled to find the words to put him at ease.

"Don't worry," I said, taking his hand in mine. I tried not to compare how a human hand felt in contrast to my silent's.

"Don't worry? Cora, you're covered in blood!" He gestured at my ruined dress and I ducked my head. I yearned to assure him I had been beautiful an hour ago. Jordan made me nervous in a way I didn't experience with anyone else. All of my natural confidence and grace disappeared when I was around him. I became instead, some puppy-like version of myself, anxious for approval, eager to please.

"No, its not mine."

"If not yours, whose is it?"

"It's mine."

The space between our bodies dropped rapidly in temperature and Jordan's frame stood frozen next to mine. My silent left the shadowed hallway, a bloody towel still caught in his hands. I was pleased to see his wound was already beginning to heal.

"Cora," Jordan hissed under his breath. "My keys are still in the ignition. You need to take the car and run. I'll try to hold him off."

"No, Jordan, it's not like that." I took his arm, scared of the tension building in his body.

"I mean it. You have to go. I'll use a knife, a vase, anything. But I won't let him hurt you."

"I would never hurt her." My silent stepped closer, but Jordan only pushed me backwards. I still held tightly to him, trying to pull him around to face me.

"You'll kill her the first chance you get. Same as I'll do to you."

"If I wanted either of you dead, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

No matter how much pushing or pulling, Jordan would not be swayed. I took a different approach instead, tearing from his protective stance. He cried out and reached for me, but I was already caught up by my silent, cradled into his uninjured side.

"Let her go!"

"Jordan, please. It's okay." I locked eyes with him, begging him to understand. "He's my friend."

"Your friend?! That thing is a monster."

"No, he's not like the others. I promise you."

I looked up into the face of my love, touching his cold distorted skin. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jordan transfixed, stunned with horror.

"What has he done to you?"

"He saved my life; you don't understand."

"No, I really don't understand," his voice rang with disgust and I could only shrink further into the safety of my silent's body. "They hunt and kill for pleasure. They're demonic. And you….. you're a traitor to your own kind."

I shook my head, fighting tears. It was no use. Jordan would not change his mind. Not even for me. He seemed to sense the same of me because he stopped speaking then. He threw me one last scathing look before turning his back. He slammed the door on his way out.

"He'll be back," my silent said. "And as soon as he sees my blood on you he'll remember."

"What can I do?" My voice sounded weak even to my own ears.

"I'll see what I can do."

He proceeded to rip layers of fabric from my dress, doing his best to eradicate any evidence of the bloodstains. The floating majesty transformed into an edgy modern style under his care and I was surprised he could accomplish such a thing. He tied a makeshift sash around my waist to hide the last of the blood and I was almost as good as new. But his hand on my shoulder, his message still scrawled on the skin of my arm… I didn't want to leave.

"Maybe, I should just stay home. We're probably too late for dinner now anyway and I'd rather be with you."

"You shouldn't have waited here for me. You should be off with humans like you, having fun, finding love."

"I did find love."

"Cora….." Not even ten minutes before, he was jubilant, happy and I was in love. But his demeanor had taken a drastic turn and all joy was stillborn. He was leaving again.

"Don't," I whispered, fearful of the person I was when he was gone. Empty. Meaningless. Without life. I didn't want that life. I didn't ever want him to leave again. "Don't do this to me."

"I'll be back. Someone's got to make sure you have money for rent, after all."

"No. Please no."

"I can't stay here and watch you put a hold on your life for me. I won't make you choose between reality and fiction."

"But this is my reality. You are more real to me than anything else. Please, I've only just found you again."

"This is not real. You will forget the minute you turn around." He paused, using the rag in his hands to wipe the remaining blood from me. It was nearly dry now, but the cloth was damp, raising little Goosebumps down my arm. I twisted away, trying to preserve the words. His grasp was strong though, and soon all evidence of his existence had been destroyed. I cried and begged him to stay. He stubbornly refused.

"I love you," I murmured, the last argument I had, the only thing I thought could change his mind.

His body was stiff, rigid with pain despite the bullet wound being completely healed at this point. Even aliens feel emotion in a physical way at times.

"A human can't love a Silent," he replied, his voice low and barely audible. "She belongs with her kind."

"I don't want it."

"Cora." He touched my cheek one last time and the feeling shot straight through to my heart. "He loves you and you need him. Let him take care of you."

His hand withdrew and I watched his form retreat further into the house. I would have pursued, should have pursued, but the door opened behind me. I turned to see Jordan, and all memory fled. I wiped away inexplicable tears and smiled with renewed excitement. Jordan. Sweet Jordan. There he was, worried and caring. Though I gave some thought up excuse, I was content to let him take care of me, coddle me. After all, isn't that what a girl was supposed to do?

A/N I hope this chapter is up to par, but I honestly I kind of struggled writing it. The words were not coming easily and it all just felt very disjointed to me. Still, I hope it wasn't completely awful to read. Also, sorry this one took more days than usual to update. But I do still plan to finish by the end of February so the next couple (possibly just one) will come in quick succession. I may come back and rework this chapter if I continue to feel disgusted by it. We'll see though.

Coming up next: An engagement, a choice (or not a choice), and a kiss.