A/N: Hope everyone liked the last chapter, and again--sorry for the cliffhanger. Please review this one!

"Guess I thought I'd have to change the world

to make you see me,

To be the one.

I could have run forever,

But how far would I have come

Without mourning your love?"

-"All That I'm Living For," Evanescence

Jager stares at me for a long time in silence. His penetrating gaze makes me more than uncomfortable; if I wasn't so good at controlling myself, I'd be fidgeting like a human.

Jager finally blinks, leans against the headboard of his bed. The down pillows seem to sink down into the mattress as if in an attempt to move out of his way, as if they want to disappear. "Elyse," he murmurs. It appears that he's still thinking, because that is all that he says. I wonder if he's remembering our short time together all those years ago, almost dare to brush over his mind—but don't. That would only make him angry.

When he speaks, I realize he knows why I asked him if he missed me. "I fell in love with Fala a long time ago—"

"Damnit, Jager!" I snap, interrupting him. He knows me too well. Knows that I can't bear to hear that he loves Fala and not me, that he never loved me, that he didn't miss me at all—

"I don't care!" I growl, my sudden temper surprising even me. But he just looks at me somewhat sternly and continues to speak.

"It must be impossible, then, for you to understand the possibility of falling in love more than once."

I swallow down a sharp retort, determined that he not find out about Sutton. I wish I could tell him how I do know what it is like to fall in love twice, how hard it is…how I know the feeling, the guilt, of losing control. But I stay silent.

Jager's voice softens considerably. "Elyse, why are you hiding your mind from me?" he asks. "You never did that before."

I clear my throat, lick my lips. "Perhaps there are memories that I don't want you to see."

He nods and drops the subject, although I can see that it pains him not to know what I am thinking. I pull my legs up to my chest, feeling my thighs sink into the soft mattress underneath me. This doesn't feel right; there's something in between the two of us, but I don't mind sitting here, staring at him, not speaking.

Jager obviously doesn't like it. "Did you come here for another reason than to look at me?" he demands.

I know if I could, I would blush crimson. "Sorry," I find myself apologizing. Then, because I can't stop myself, I add, "I just can't understand why you look so damn sad."

Do the corners of his mouth turn up slightly? It might just be the light, but I wish so badly that he would smile. "I thought you already figured that out," he says.

I look at him, caught up in his emerald gaze, and lock my fingers together over my shins. "You did miss me," I accuse.

He is definitely not smiling now. I wonder why my accusation, why the truth, makes him so sad. I watch his slender fingers pick at a loose thread on his quilt and smile ruefully.

"Every time I kissed Fala," he begins, his voice vulnerable, "every time I touched the damn woman…I thought about you. I love Fala, but…" He pauses, looks at me with a strangled expression on his face, and continues in a rush. "Sometimes I would pretend you were with me instead of her. I couldn't stand not knowing where you were…"

I reach forward and touch the back of his hand softly; his tone makes me realize that I am loved. That he is speaking the truth.

He stops and looks at my hand on his, then raises his gaze to my eyes. "It's something," I whisper, and he smiles.

-vVv-

I am standing in the doorway of the church, listening to the sermon, my eyes roaming over the crowd of people dressed in black, in mourning.

I wasn't invited to his funeral, of course, but I'm here anyway, despite the pain it causes me to see his family. His friends. To realize what I've done, that I've taken such a wonderful person from this world.

Never before have I felt guilty for killing someone because I had to feed. But I loved this man, and the knowledge that he is in the casket at the front of the church because of me, of what I did, makes my chest hurt unbearably.

I sigh and stare up at the ornate ceiling, try to distract myself from my guilt, my sadness. The church is beautiful; adorned with beautiful paintings on the ceiling beams and supporting columns, the orange lights cast shadows in niches and make gold paint shimmer. I bring my gaze to the giant sculpture of Jesus, suddenly feeling unwelcome. I am damned, Sutton is surely in heaven, and I will never see him again.

I despise the way he looks in the casket. His skin is too pale, his clothes too stiff, and they are nothing like he would have ever worn in life. I don't like his smell, either; his scent is of chemicals mixed with musk, as if the mortician had tried to cover up the fact that Sutton is dead.

I turn away, walk out of the church. I am wearing the dress I had on that night, and my hair is pulled back tightly in a bun. A part of me wishes I could cut my locks off, because they remind me so much of Sutton, of the way he would run his hands through them. But I don't; I need something to remember him by, something that will remind of the way I want to remember him: wearing soft jeans and a leather jacket, smelling of beer and leather, absolutely beautiful.

The sunlight is so strong it makes me blink, and I immediately hate it. How could the weather be so wonderful when the man I loved is dead, about to be buried and never seen again? "Damn you," I mutter at the sun, and enter the woods near the church, sit down in the soft earth. I will wait until he is buried to go see him, one last time.

-vVv-

I open my eyes with a gasp; find myself in my sitting room at home. I'm immediately angry with myself for being so weak, for losing myself in memories again, but there is nothing I can do about it.

The bloodlust growls inside of me, stirring my mind and directing my thoughts to the hunt. I will hunt close by tonight, in the town that neighbors New Mayhem. And then I will go to the nightclub.

Jager will be there, and the thought makes me smile.