A/N: So here's the next chapter. Sorry it's been a while...I'm not sure if this is sappy/cliché, so bear with me if it is. And review!

Chapter 20:

"How the heart bends,

and summer she sends a sky that refuses to die

With weeds of the sea that wrap round our knees

and a sun too hot to go down

You come around, you come around, you come around,

you come around, you come around, you come around."

-"What the Snowman Learned About Love," Stars

Moira is waiting for me outside, an icy expression on her face. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demands. I swallow and lean back against the side of the building. Opening my mouth, I make myself breath, just because the cold air rushing into my long-dead lungs makes me forget all of the emotion that I'd felt seconds ago.

"I need time," I rasp. My eyes are half-closed but I'm watching her, waiting for her to lash out at me. She is angry.

I open my eyes just as she reaches forward to slap me across the face with enough force to break a human's cheekbone, and I realize she is just as furious—as hurt—as I am. I stop myself from putting a hand to my face and growl deep in my throat, my eyes narrow. "So you saw them?" I press. My throat burns just imagining the scene I just witnessed between Fala and Jager.

Moira stays rigid for a moment, then nods her head reluctantly.

"I'm trying," I whisper. "It's only been one day. Just give me time."

"Well." She hisses, her face up close to mine. "Try harder. You just walked away from him," she snaps, clearly angry. "That isn't trying!"

I frown and lash out with my power, a warning. You have no idea what I'm going through, I force into her mind. Don't speak to me like that. I watch her bottom lip tremble for a moment, satisfied.

But she smirks, staring murder with her eyes. I have a pretty good idea what you're going through. "I want Fala," she states softly. Her eyes glow and I nearly laugh at the words still fresh in my mind. She doesn't know. How could she? "You can get him away from her. I know you can." Moira's voice rises, and she straightens, throws her hands up in the air. "What do I need to do?" she asks. "Pay you? Kill him?"

"Damnit, Moira, shut up!" I yell. "You are too impatient. I can't heal mistakes I've made for two hundred years in one damn day." The thought of Jager dead, gone forever, and at the hands of someone like Moira, makes me drop the small effort of breathing. And I don't care. "Don't you dare put a hand on him. I'll do what you want."

Moira smiles smugly, like this is what she was hoping I would say. "Good," she says, taking a step back. "Don't screw up. I'm watching."

Before I can decide whether to laugh at her or hurt her, she disappears, and I am left alone in the dark.

-vVv-

After leaving the nightclub, I tease a young cashier into bleeding for me simply out of spite—I am bored, not thirsty, and flirting with a stupid human amuses me. The gas station's store is deserted except for the young man and myself, and the lights are dim, making the dirty floor look even less well kept. I wander the aisles after I leave him leaning over the counter, disoriented from loss of blood but not seriously crippled. Stare at the layers of junk food on the shelves, wondering how humans can eat such food. The packages are covered in a thin film of dust, and I grimace, turn to the beverage section instead. I'm using this time in the store, with the hum of the refrigerators drowning out badly tuned music playing from speakers somewhere above me, to think. But so far my moments alone have been in vain. Even if there had been a chance to get Jager back, I ruined it by walking away from him at the nightclub earlier. Why can't I do this right? I demand of myself. Frustrated, I lose my patience for this dingy store and storm out the glass doors, disappear once I've turned a corner and no one can see me melting away.

My house is smothered in darkness despite the rising sun; the blackout curtains on all of the windows keep out the light. I swallow down my impatience with the large home and drag myself up the stairs. It is time to rest. Perhaps if I lose myself to the vampire's dreamless sleep, I will forget about today, for a while at least. Then I will figure out what to do about Jager. About Moira.

I crawl under my bedcovers like I used to do when I was human, pull the sheets over my head. My eyes are closed but rest won't come; for some reason, visions of Sutton keep flashing through my mind. I work hard to push them out, and it takes time; by the time I slip into unconsciousness, the sun has fully risen and even my curtains are unable to keep out the slivers of light that push through my windows and dance across the floor.

I do not dream, but I wake some hours later with terror in my dead heart. I squeeze my eyes shut and ignore the feeling, but all that rewards me with is memories. The night I killed Sutton plays over and over in my mind, as if I am watching a movie and keep rewinding to play that scene again. I bite my bottom lip, lick away the blood as the cut heals, and try to concentrate on something else. That doesn't work, either; for instead of reliving that night in England, I watch my most recent moments with Jager play across my eyelids. Finally I lose it, sitting up in bed suddenly and letting out a strangled scream. I wish I could cry. I put my hands to my eyes and rub them, whimpering like a child that has just woken from a nightmare. Only my nightmares are true, and I don't act like this when I remember them. What is wrong with me?

I glance over at the clock, placing my hands gently at my sides. It is a few minutes past noon. I swallow and close my eyes again for a short moment, pulling myself together. I know, suddenly, what I need to do.

I am in front of Jager's door seconds after the thought, twisting my fingers together in a manner so unlike me. But this is important; Jager needs to know. I need to forgive him so he can forgive me. I knock loudly on the door, hoping that I'm waking him, that he isn't doing something else, with someone else.

He opens the door, and his eyes are alert, but his hair and clothes are slightly rumpled, giving away the fact that he had been resting. "Elyse?" he queries, and I nod, try to smile. My lips tremble. He lets out a pointless sigh and waves me in. "Come on," he says.

I force myself to move past the threshold and walk into his room, moving to the center so I won't be tempted by sitting on the bed. Jager has numerous homes, but he prefers to stay in the room at the nightclub, for whatever reason. And that suits me. I force another smile and look him in the eyes, resisting the urge to pace. "I need to talk to you," I begin. If I am having second thoughts now, it is too late. I am already here. I pretend this isn't awkward, that the last time we met I didn't actually run away from him when he tried to kiss me. "I want you to know why I've been talking to you again, why I've let you see my aura again after two hundred years." Moira will kill me for this, but I don't care. Jager sits on his bed, looking at me silently, letting me continue. "Moira came to me yesterday. She asked me to get you back, because she wants Fala to—to love her again." I ignore the stumbling of my words and press on, the words coming out in a rush before I lose what I am going to say. "I said I would try, but that it's been two hundred years and you didn't love me anymore. That you'd never loved me. Moira didn't like that," I say, letting out a small laugh at the memory. "So I agreed, but…when you kissed me, when you reminded me of how things used to be…I panicked, Jager. I haven't felt anything in so long and you made it all come back in a few seconds. That's why I left. Not because I don't love you, not because I was angry that you kissed Fala in front of me—which I was—but because I was afraid of what I felt." I gracefully sidestep the issue of Sutton and stop speaking, waiting for him to say something. He doesn't need to know about Sutton just yet.

He sighs again and motions that I come over. I expected him to be angry, to tell me to leave, but as I sit beside him and sink into the soft mattress, he is neither. "Why are you telling me this?" he finally asks, not moving his eyes from mine.

I stand up and go to the window, pulling away his curtains to reveal the sunlight. I don't know if I imagine it, but it seems as if the light makes his room clearer, sharper, in my vision. I look back at him. I still love you, you know. Did I say that, or just think it? I'm not sure, but regardless, Jager hears me anyway.

"This is the first time in years you've been truthful with me, isn't it?" he says, and I smile, slightly embarrassed. He knows me too well. But I can't understand why he is reacting like this. I push the worries away and let him speak, going to the bed and sitting again, bathed in sunlight. "Moira can have Fala," he whispers. "I'll tell her to go back to her lover."

Will it be that easy? I doubt it, but I don't know what power he has over Fala, and so try not to make assumptions. I pick up his and and kiss his fingers. "Thank you," I murmur, and I know he knows I'm thanking him for more than what he just said. I almost regret not telling him about Sutton, because if Jager really wants me back, then that secret will only produce problems later. But there are some things that should be kept to myself, and so I stay quiet, let him kiss my forehead, and then I stand up. "Hunt with me tonight?" I ask, and he nods, smiles. "Good. I'll find you before I go." Once these words are spoken, I turn around. Walk out. Return to my home.

And for the rest of my sleep, I am not plagued by memories.