You believed that this wouldn't happen again. Killing. Because you're with Auretta, have been for two years. Because everything is under control. Was. Was under control. Because you're a different person now.
You stopped running, finally settling down in Toronto with a woman you cherish and care about. You learned more about yourself, about the abilities you possess, with the bits and pieces of research that Auretta collected from the library. Although the research isn't entirely accurate, it's still helpful to you, your true nature. Who you're supposed to be, meant to be.
But one shift at the Rooftop Bar struck all of that down.
A girl with a bleach blonde wig and way too many wallets, and some asshat that didn't know how to take 'no' for an answer.
You killed the asshat in the elevator and carried the girl with you through the parking garage of the hotel, bringing her home. Your home. The little crack shack you've grown to love.
Over the two years, you and Auretta managed to clean up the place, add necessary furniture. Some are Auretta's old furniture she kept in a storage unit when she moved to Toronto. The rest you bought yourself.
It was nice while it lasted.
You have to leave.
Toronto. Whiskey. Auretta.
Guaranteed safety. Not for you. Everyone else.
You lay the girl down on the couch and rush up the stairs to your bedroom. The sooner you're out of here, the better. Back to running, like you never left it. Like it's second nature.
While on your way home, you considered asking Auretta to come with you, run with you, but she already made herself a home here. You didn't, no, don't, want to rip that away from her. Her job, her apartment, everything she's built here, just for you. You can't do that to her, after everything she's done for you.
All you can do is call, tell her to come here. Say your goodbyes.
In your bedroom, you gather your belongings—what you can carry in a single duffle bag. Beauty products from the bathroom, some of your clothes that hang on the clothing line along with fresh clothes you'll change into so you can burn the ones you killed in, the several IDs and a roll of cash you keep hidden in your fireplace.
Flames rise in the metal trash can, red reflecting in your eyes. Your favorite pair of boots melt to ash. And as much as you love them, you can't leave a trail.
The process of running became easier with each city and town you dodged, creating a plan after the first few cities. By now, you have it all memorized, like it's a part of you. Instinct.
You thought that was over.
Apparently, it's not.
You won't be able to stop running. You can try, but you can never stay in one spot. It would be best if you were—
"Shut the hell up," you say through your teeth, throwing the matches down on the bed.
You were once at peace, but some internal struggle pulls at your skin until it breaks. Until you break. You just want it gone.
For a moment, you take one last look at your bedroom, breathe in the small memories that you and Auretta had here. When you were brought back to life. Pretended to be Property Brothers. Your home cleaner and furnished, time was spent here as you went back and forth between her place and yours. Nights in your bed with her curled up in your arms. Other nights, her wings wrapped around you, kept you warm.
You're going to miss it. All of it. But maybe, there will be a day where you find it again. Or you'll be able to come back, see Auretta.
On a circle table by your bed sits a picture frame, wooden with swirls engraved in the corners. You remember this day the picture was taken, out in the park on a date, a picnic. Children were running around on the grass, playing games of tag, while their parents watched from benches. Everything felt perfect then. You were meant to be there. So was Auretta. Laughing as you threw grapes up into the air and caught them in your mouth.
She was so impressed by that silly trick.
You pick up the photo and hold it close to your chest.
"That day will always be my favorite," you hear from the bathroom, beyond the double doors, a voice that's like water flowing through a creek. Auretta. "And yet, every day that I'm with you is my favorite."
"I feel the same way." You set the photo down, back where it belongs. "But we can't have any of those days anymore."
"Bo, what do you mean?" She walks up to you and takes your hands in her own. "What's with the fire and the bag on your bed? Not to mention, the human passed out on your couch. Is everything okay?"
You bow your head, stare at tangled hands. You wish you didn't have to do this, and it tears at every inch of you. You can't stay here any longer. Risk being found. "I killed someone."
"Oh, Bo." She hugs you for what seems to be the last time she ever will, and you absorb each second of it.
"It's not that I was hungry, Auretta," you say into her shoulder. "He drugged this girl, and I couldn't just let it go."
"The girl on your couch."
"Yeah. I have to run again."
Minutes, and you stay in her arms, but you know that you'll eventually have to go. Find somewhere else. Keep killing, even though you don't want to, unless another Auretta comes into your life. Someone like her. Someone like you.
Mystical. Not normal.
Beautiful, magical.
The best thing that happened to you.
You kiss her goodbye.