Thank you to all those who have read and/or reviewed this story! I've been inspired these last two weeks and I believe I've updated 3 (or was it 4?) chapters in the past couple of days. If you have any particular suggestions for the story please feel free to leave a review - I am pretty flexible.
This chapter was inspired by iceprincess141414. Thank you for your support!
Chapter 9: Plan A
Yes, that was a complete waste of time, Beaux conceded. Meliah was too distraught at the prospect of losing both the trust of her lover and the comradery of her closest friend.
Only I understand, Beaux guaranteed, how frightened you were, Meliah.
He walked past the alley where he had fed upon the golden girl. Indeed, there were her bones and pieces of flesh still decaying in the crevices of the cobblestones. No one had noticed. Beaux continued without a second thought. Was it a week ago? Or was it two days?
Time was irrelevant in his world.
But with the entire Birthday fiasco, Beaux had less time in Meliah's world. She was his goddess, but she was not immortal. In fact, from what he had seen that day, her soul was extremely fragile. One thing was now excruciatingly clear: he must not let her endure such taxing emotional episodes! If anything befell her, it could break her from the inside. And if she should break, so would he.
Yet nothing he told himself could eclipse what he knew. The fear, the panic, the confusion – they were all symptoms of an utterly lovesick child. Beaux had been very lucky. Had Andante pressed her further, she would have shunned Beaux completely - regardless of his overly poignant remarks or gestures. And that would have been but another nail driven into Beaux's already bleeding core.
Despite what Beaux wanted to believe, Meliah was in love with Andante.
It is but a juvenile love, Beaux repeated in his mind, a love that is easily formed, easily destroyed, and easily replaced. Andante cannot go the lengths I can nor is he as desperate as I am.
For the briefest instant, Beaux was buoyed by the infinitesimal spark Meliah had ignited in his soul when she stopped him – when she grabbed his hand and begged him to understand.
But frankly, Beaux could not understand. What was there to discuss? It was Andante or him. There was no other option. Did she not see that she could not have them both?
"So cruel, so naïve," Beaux found himself saying aloud as he collapsed unto his bed and closed his eyes. He parted his lips and let the air exit with a whistle. The back of his eyelids were emblazoned with her image, and his mind could see nothing else.
He bolted up and glowered at the mahogany table on his left. "Since when did I become so vulnerable? Over a human girl nonetheless!" he ranted. Not surprisingly, the table was silent as though it had nothing substantial to contribute to Beaux's dilemma.
Finally relenting to the fact that he would not be able to rest peacefully, Beaux pulled himself from the sheets and sat in front of the window. A snowy hand drew the curtains aside and a bright moon winked at him from the inky skies.
He spun the situation around – over and over – in his head. Ninety degrees, one-eighty degrees, three-hundred-sixty degrees – there was no discrepancy. Andante was the anomaly.
If the anomaly were to be – say, erased, the problem would cease to exist.
The epiphany startled Beaux minutely, but the insight was invaluable.
He would kill Andante. Meliah would never know. She would need comfort. And of course, Beaux would be there. First as best friend, then as lover…
The thought glowed in his mind.
Beaux was very busy over the next few weeks. There was much to prepare. Contrary to what most humans believe, premeditated murder is not that simple – even for a vampire.
He spent hours organizing the plan, finding the glitches (there was always some factor that had to be considered), and reorganizing.
The checklist included an abandoned building, a myriad of long metal spikes, and a forged letter.
Beaux was not sadistic by nature, excluding the fact that he had an inherent taste for blood, but he could not be satisfied with killing Andante swiftly. He concluded that if he had to kill at all, he might as well make it the most fantastic murder of all time.
Now if he could only get Meliah to cooperate…
When Beaux arrived at Meliah's doorstep on a warm afternoon, she ushered him inside. And to his great surprise, she smiled, laughed, and flitted as though nothing had happened.
"Do you want lemon or green?" she asked when he sat down on a wicker chair on the patio.
"Excuse me?"
"Tea? Do you want some?"
"Oh, no thank you."
"Alright then, more for me!" she chimed cheerfully as she poured the steaming water from the porcelain teapot.
"How is everything?" Beaux asked cautiously. There was something very queer about her behavior.
"Splendid, splendid," she replied with a subconscious nod. She closed her eyes as she inhaled the sweet scent of her lemon tea. "Are you sure you do not want any? It has a lovely flavor."
"No I'm quite fine, thank you."
"Suit yourself," she shrugged. She swirled her teaspoon vigorously and it clinked against the fine china. Meliah was hiding it, but her hand was shaking.
Beaux sat quietly for several long minutes, hoping Meliah would divulge her secrets without cajoling. But she discursively evaded any topics that concerned her private life.
"Isn't the weather lovely?" she asked once. "The sky is also like a sapphire! So blue and so clear…" She hummed incoherently.
Beaux had just about enough, and his empathetic gaze was so blaringly obvious that he was sure she was ignoring it. "Meliah," he mumbled after some silence, "What is troubling you so?"
"Nothing," she replied with a smile, "why do you ask?"
"Did something happen between you and Andante?"
"No-" she responded mechanically.
"Please don't lie."
"I'm not lying!"
"We have been friends for a long time. I can tell when you are not telling me the truth," Beaux said softly.
Meliah's façade faltered for a fraction of a second and regenerated into a more dazzling smile.
"May I entrust you with a secret?" she asked. Her voice was hushed and tense, but the way her eyes expanded and her posture lowered seemed to suggest it was something she was not quite excited about.
"Anything," Beaux tried to answer encouragingly but even in his ears, he sounded worried and anxious.
"We are eloping-"
Beaux thanked God he was not drinking tea at that moment for it would have been sprayed all over Meliah. He gagged on his own saliva anyway. She seemed indifferent to his robust coughs.
"-Andante and I," she finished. She pulled her lips apart so he could see her pearly teeth. She looked perfect: dark ringlets arranged like a giant conch on her head, ivory gloves swathing her lithe arms, and the gorgeous white of her shoulders. Yet, her eyes were devoid of any emotion.
"You are afraid," Beaux stated quietly. He heard her teacup rattle slightly on its saucer.
"No, I'm ecstatic," she corrected.
"You are afraid of the life you will lead if you follow him," he continued, watching the smile fade off her face, "It's not your fault. He should have never forced you to make that decision."
"I am very happy about this," she said. Her voice was dead.
"You do not have to pretend when you are with me," Beaux said gently as she lowered her cup on the table.
"I'm not pretending," she murmured, gazing upwards into his green eyes. Her eyes were so dark, they were almost black, and they were glistening oddly.
"How can you be happy? Leaving your parents, yet unable to say goodbye. Living like a street rat when all you've ever known was opulence. Love can neither pay rent nor provide food," Beaux pressed on. It was a rhetorical question, but Meliah was intent on answering.
"Andante has made sacrifices for me. This is the least I can do," she spoke inaudibly now. Tears glazed her lashes and she clutched at her heart, which was beating so loudly he could hear it. Beaux grasped her chin before she could look away.
"Andante has lost nothing, and is gaining everything!" Beaux cried, grabbing her by the shoulders.
"Do not say it like that-"
"Your mind, your body, your love! Everything!" He was trembling so violently, she was shaking under his fingers.
"Beaux-" she moaned in pain, but his grip did not loosen.
"Look at me! Tell me the truth! Please!" he practically shouted.
She took one deep look at his face, and her eyes literally melted. She shook her head, but he pulled her into his arms.
"Beaux," she began, her voice faltering tragically, "I'm scared."
She wept piteously, wiping the crystalline tears on her satiny gloves. She babbled through her soft sobs, but Beaux hushed her.
"Then stay. You do not have to prove your devotion this way."
She pressed her head against his chest and heaved a few sighs. Beaux wondered if she could hear his heart hammering the inside of his rib cages. It was almost embarrassing because the beats were so loud! Meliah closed her eyes and for a full fifteen minutes, dozed.
Beaux was too much of a coward to touch her. When she appeared to have gained her consciousness she was resolved.
"No, I have decided," she said, suddenly brisk.
Beaux could not help but smile, "But you are not ready now. When do you plan on departing?"
"This Saturday," she replied, her voice calming and her blotchiness ebbing. "Please do not get me wrong, Mr. Beaux. Despite these childish preoccupations, I am in bliss. I can spend the rest of my life with the man I love. What other greed can I harbor? No, no, I will leave."
She stood up and ran her hand down her dress to press out the wrinkles. There was a detached business-like manner with which she handled the cups and trays as she took them to the kitchen.
Beaux followed her. When he was positive there was no other person within earshot, he spoke up.
"Miss Meliah, as my last gift, I would like to suggest that this eloping business is done with the proper – how shall I say it – procedures. Do you have transportation? A place to go?"
These new problems seemed unfamiliar to Meliah. "Transportation?" she asked in a clearly puzzled voice.
Beaux chuckled at her confusion. "I knew this would be a problem."
Meliah pouted, pressing her lips together. Beaux found himself clinging to the counter with unnecessary force.
"There is an old, deserted building on Rosary Lane," Beaux suggested. He felt a pang as his insides squirmed. If he had not been such an expert liar, it would have been difficult to sound so unaffected.
"Perfect!" Meliah agreed. There was no suspicion in her expression. Her bona fide confidence in him made his legs crumble underneath him. "Thank you so much." She was sincere…
Poor girl! Beaux whimpered.
"Why not write him a letter? Explain the…plans. If you wish…I will deliver it personally," Beaux said. He did not want to sound too eager for it would trigger incredulity. He made sure there was a woeful edge to his tone.
"Will you? Oh, thank you! Thank you!" She scrawled a brief note on the edge of a napkin and handed it to Beaux with both hands.
"How can I ever repay you?" she asked; her eyes twinkled.
He closed the distance between the two of them in three long strides. His left arm encircled her waist. Meliah's eyes became so round, he could have placed a button perfectly on top of them.
"Give me a real kiss," he whispered huskily. "My first and last…"
He could feel her every breath as she staggered and tried move away. But Beaux pressed her against himself.
"Is this why you offered to help?" she asked, glaring. She clenched her jaws tightly together.
"And if I said 'yes' would it change anything?" he asked with a charming grin.
"No," she conceded.
"Come then," he coaxed. Beaux ran a pale finger over her pink lips, and she shivered with what she tried to pass off as disgust.
With his free hand, Beaux angled her face towards his. She closed her eyes and compressed her lips into a thin line. Beaux smiled to himself at her futile attempts to deter him. It only provoked him further.
He gently pressed his lips unto hers, and slowly, with the tip of his tongue, delineated the contours. He watched hungrily as her eyes snapped open. She had never been kissed like this before.
Beaux carefully inhaled her essence as he gained further entry. Meliah clutched unto his shirt almost in exhilaration, and Beaux was more than happy to oblige her demands – intentional or not. He wound his hand in her hair, letting it fall spectacularly from its formation.
Entwined in his arms, Meliah accidentally knocked something over from the counter. Upon making contact with the floor, it promptly shattered into pieces with a clang! Beaux swept Meliah off her feet and sat her on the table, never breaking contact. But Meliah was already distracted.
She gasped when they broke apart. Breathing frantically, she pushed him aside and slid off the table - clearly disoriented. Skirting the shards, she took off her gloves and dabbed some cold water unto her hot, flushed skin.
"Do not forget," she mumbled and ran from the room.
Beaux never found out if she was talking about the note, or the kiss…