X-X
I awoke in an unfamiliar bedroom next to a beautiful man.
Myrnin.
Content with things I smiled at him and found he was already awake, staring at me sorrowfully and slowly tracing patterns on my skin.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Claire," he said his finger pausing and he quickly cast his eyes downward, ashamed.
"What are you… sorry about?" I asked, caution filling my voice and showing my doubts. Is he regretting this? I thought to myself.
"I'm sorry that I hurt you little one," he whispered keeping his eyes downcast. The pain was so obvious and deep in him that I immediately felt a growing sadness in me and reached over to touch him
Pain. I froze mid-movement, my whole arm cramping up in a sizzling burn. It felt as if someone had burned my skin and torn all my muscles to shreds, it was a pain I knew all too well from the time when I had fallen out of a tree as a child, the pain of a bruise.
I slowly moved my still tingling arm back into the position it had been in and cautiously moved my other arm over, massaging small circles in the skin, gritting my teeth and being careful not to let the pain take over my features. I looked myself over and was no longer surprised to find blue and purple bruises blooming across my skin. And they were in the shape of handprints. That's what Myrnin had meant about hurting me. I turned my head afraid to see his reaction and was regarded with mournful eyes that were miles deep and held acres upon acres of heart-wrenching pain and sorrow.
I'm so sorry, they whispered to me, I'm so, so, so sorry.
"Myrnin," I started, but he averted his eyes and refused to look at me, "Myrnin look at me." He silently shook his head and I saw I tear slide down off the end of his face. I slowly and with great effort to mask my soreness, held his face between my fingers and leaned in closely, forcing him to stare back into my gaze. I saw only remorse in him, much, much, too much remorse for a few bruises. This was going too far. I was torturing him.
"Do you love me?" I asked boldly, giving him reason to think I had doubts about us, which at that moment I didn't.
"Claire-" he started but I cut him off.
"Do you love me? Just answer the question Myrnin." I said, actual doubt beginning to creep slyly into my voice at his hesitation.
"When I look at you I feel a sort of calmness come over me, the constant bloodlust raging inside me is quenched simply by your gaze. When I dream it is of you, of you being an angel from the highest realm of heaven, coming to down to torture me with your beauty and grace. My mind and body are put to ease at your touch and my fears of the future vanish. I only feel truly safe around you. You are my savior, Claire, my light that shines through the darkness of my inhumanity, the glowing sphere of hope that this pain and suffering might end. Yet, when I look at you I also feel a lust, a need for you, to sink my fangs into your perfection and the indulge in the soothing blood of your soul, to throw you down and fill you up with me, to watch you climax and hear you scream my name. I feel these things at the same time and with them, both sides of me become at balance. I feel content and satisfied only then, only with you. So yes, I do love you, but I wish I didn't say that. I wish I could say more than a simple, I love you, because my love goes much, much deeper then the gift of words. It is fearsome and rough and yet gentle and kind. I love you across all of space and time, Claire; I love you more than blood itself. I assure you my dear that it is a never ending love and you never need worry that it may falter," he finished his soliloquy with rush of intense emotion and stared wistfully into my somber eyes.
I stared back, completely speechless that he, my crazy insane, vampire boss was capable of the kind of love he described. Such unfaltering, true love. The kind of love that was only mention in fairy tales, the ones knights in shining armor fought over and evil queens tried to steal. The kind of love that little girls dreamed of, the kind of love that only came with one's true soul mate and the one true love that so few had achieved. The timeless kind, the one that lasted forever. It was simply exhilarating.
Tears spilled over from my eyes and I found myself weeping uncontrollably. Myrnin reached over and gently pulled me into his comforting arms, rocking me back and forth. I felt him shaking and realized that he too was crying. I twisted around his grasp and searched his face for answers to how it was possible that he was feeling such emotion for me, such human compassion. I couldn't find any.
I pulled away from his grasp and slowly got up, claustrophobia settling on me in a dense cloud. I really needed some space, some breathing room. I wasn't ready for this, this…this…love to be so deep and complex, and so soon at that!
I went looking around to find my clothes, buying time. With a sigh I realized that they were all torn apart, and left behind in that strange library. I snapped my head back around and gave him a hard look. He stared back with slight confusion, probably because he had no idea why I pulled away so suddenly and now wanted to leave, but I pretend it was only because he didn't know what I wanted.
"I need to borrow some clothes Myrnin," I said sharply, looking through him with a bored expression. His face literally fell, his whole face covered in a mask of completely shock and slight horror. His expression turned into that of kicked puppy and he stared at me with hurt and bewilderment.
"Now Myrnin," I said softly and turned away, feeling terrible. I had no right to be like this, no right to treat him so harshly and so suddenly, but I needed to go. Now.
"Right, sorry," he said quietly. His face had turned into the learned indifference of a vampire at my rejection but he couldn't quite stop the angered look from reaching his eyes. He got up in one swift motion and spun out of the room at vampire speed and was back within a minute with an exceptionally long, black button down shirt and my brown belt from earlier which had somehow ended up here. He handed them over to me without meeting my eyes.
"I thought you might wear it as a dress. There's a bathroom through that door. Help yourself," he murmured and then was gone in a white blur. I sighed and walked over, into the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind me, feeling even worse than before because even though I had abruptly started acting appalling to him, he still went out of his way to find me something to wear that was well…nice. I felt sick and disgusted with myself.
I stared intensely into the mirror and watched my sallow expression stare back, finding every little imperfection and making me hate myself, using looks as a substitute for my actions. Yanking a comb through my knotted hair, pondering what I had just done and wondering if it was reversible, I once again found myself crying.
I regretted how brashly I had acted and with no apparent reason but while I lay in his arms I realized how silly this was, that I could be with him. It wasn't going to work out, at least not well, or more correctly, not well for me. Unless of course… but no that was the unthinkable. It could never work and the sooner I accepted that the better. I felt suffocated, smothered by all the terrible possibilities of how this story might end and I needed to get away, needed to get the hell out of this lab. I needed to breathe. It was all too much, way too much for me to deal with. I wasn't ready to accept his love for me, my love for him. I wasn't ready to face the truth quite yet but I had already hurt him, hurt him deeply and I felt once again felt the rolling waves of sickness in my stomach as his pained face raced across my vision. My thoughts flashed quickly back to the events of a few days before when I had hurt Shane. Strike two.
Go home, my mind told me gently, Tell him you're sorry and that you need to rest and have time to think things through.
I gave myself one more disgusted look in the mirror and turned to take my leave, my head spinning.
I walked out through the bedroom and awkwardly stood in the lab I knew all so well, one hand twisting around and around my wrist in a spinning fashion.
"I would really appreciate it if you could open me a portal home," I said sheepishly, without looking up to make eye contact, acting much to formal and polite for our familiar relationship.
"Of course and you don't need to come into work later this afternoon, since you have been here so long already I'm sure I've spoiled your plans for the entire day," his tone was clipped, formal. I dared to sneak a glance at his face and was hurt by the stoic look of it. It hurt even more to see that adorable mop of tangled dark brown curls mussed about his head and knowing that I couldn't reach out and touch them.
Which you have no right to be hurt by, my brain told me accusingly, you caused it.
Yeah, thanks brain, real confidence booster!
"Look Myrnin, I'm-," I began but was cut off.
"There's no need for any explanation or apology, it was childish to begin with. Although, I do expect you to continue working for me so I do hope that you can get over any…human feelings you might be experiencing," he said sharply without really looking at me. He was looking at me, but it was like he was looking through me, right through me and at the wall behind. That's all I had become to him now, a wall. His tone and diction still burned, even though I knew I was the cause of it. Calling everything childish! I tried to convince myself it was his own hurt words but my mind wouldn't let me accept that. And another thing I had noticed was how his flamboyant speech now was completely void of the many endearments that usually clouded it. I felt as if he no longer cared about me at all.
Oh, if you only knew how much I loved you and how much this was hurting me, but still I can't. I'm sorry.
"Right…Well then I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," I said, once again staring at the floor, not daring to see if he was looking at me, feeling off. At first I couldn't place it, everything but our tones were normal, or were they. His clothes. They were simple, plain, a basic pair of black dress pants and a white button-down shirt. No adornments or bunny slippers, no funky hats or frills from his favored Victorian era, just simple, modern clothes. The lab no long felt like a haven, everything felt off, felt wrong. I felt a sudden urge to sprint out of there like a manic but suppressed the chilled feeling.
"Good-bye," he stated simply and left the room in a semi-usual flourish.
A second later I felt the familiar hum of a portal and turned to my right to step through back into the Glass House. After a fleeting moment of that unnerving falling sensation I was standing in the living room. Chili bowls from the night before had been left on the coffee table and video games and movies were piled haphazardly on the ground in front of the X-box. The whole place smelled like chili and coke, with a slight scent of Eve's lingering perfume and Shane's cologne mixed in. It smelled like home.
"Hello home," I said with a smile, some of my former happiness returning. I felt the house warm up in response to my presence and I went over to pat the wall familiarly, "It's good to see that someone still loves me."
With a sigh I trudged into the kitchen, hoping a sugar rush would help my mood. I opened the fridge with a bang and began rummaging around for a coke when I heard the familiar clomp of Eve's combat boots coming down the stairs. Finding a coke, I pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with a little flop, waiting for her to come in the kitchen. With a creak the kitchen door flew open, showing Eve garbed in full on Goth glory. She was wearing a black, off the shoulder tee with images of daggers, maces and other nasty, assorted dangerous weapons printed across it over a black, long-sleeved, fishnet top, with a dangerously red, short skirt, ripped black leggings, and her favorite boots with the little skulls down the sides. Her black hair was pulled into her signature pigtails on the sides of her head and was held in place by two little, skull and cross-bone, ribbons. Her lips were painted the color of red death and her eyes heavily lined in black liner. She flashed me a huge grin, child-like excitement raging over her expression and she flew at me in a break-neck speed to deliver a bone-crushing hug. I winced slightly, but she didn't notice.
"CB, you're home! I was really starting to get worried about you! By the way we soooooo need to talk! Shane told me you guys got in a fight and you ran upstairs and he was too mad to check on you, the jerk, and next thing you're gone and Michael's saying that Amelie called, saying you're with Myrnin at the lab, and then of course Shane got even more pissy, but he's fine now don't worry, and then you didn't come home for a while so we were all planning our attack on that crazy ass boss of yours in case in he, like you know, ate you. Which of course we couldn't have happening to our youngest, most adorable housemate! Ah, anyways I'm glad you're home so I don't have to worry anymore," she prattled on in a bright, chipper voice at such a fast speed, that I could hardly understand half of it. I smiled weakly at her, too tired to give more than a noncommittal response to her chatter.
"And by the way what are you wearing? It is so cute! But since when do you wear dresses, and where in the world did you even find something like that in Morganville? Spill, cuz I really need to shop there," she said, leaning in like I was going to tell her some big secret. I pulled backed slightly unnerved by her glee and cast my eyes to the ground, worried about how she would react to my answer, knowing I didn't have enough time to come up with a reasonable lie.
"Well, um…well, actually its, um… well, its Myrnin's," I stammered, ashamed. I could feel my face heat up and knew it had become a bright red color.
Great, just great. Good job at playing it cool Claire, I mentally yelled at myself. Eve pulled back from me, blinking.
"Oh, um Claire, I'm really afraid to ask but…Why are you wearing Myrnin's clothes and what the hell happened to yours?" she said, her voice raising at the end and turning the last part into a yell. Her expression darkened with suspicion and she glared at me accusingly. I was prepared for her outbreak and had already come up with what I thought was a sufficient lie.
"Geez Eve, cool your jets! It's not like what you're starting to think! We were mixing acidic chemicals in order to come up with an alternate power source for a fundamental responder to prevent the combination of explosives and one of the valves failed causing a small backfire movement which ended up dousing both of us in chemicals and one of these chemicals reacts violently to water so it was impossible to wash, so I had to get rid of them and I ended up having to borrow some of his," I lied, hoping that my detailed response and use of big, complicating words would convince her it was the truth. I searched her eyes, looking for any sign that she doubted me but thankfully I couldn't find any.
"Right, sorry Claire," she looked at me sheepishly, "I can't believe I went there, woops! Well, no harm, no foul! Besides it's not that doubtful considering mister crazy pants himself, right? He is kind of attractive," She giggled and pranced over to the fridge, rummaging around to find the last remaining can of coke.
"Where are Shane and Michael?" I asked, faking concern but secretly hoping they weren't home. Somehow I just knew that Michael would know everything as soon as we were in the same room, he could probably smell him on me and if anyone saw the bite marks, or the bruises? I self consciously pulled up the collar of the shirt and made sure the sleeves covered my wrists.
"Don't look so worried CB! Shane's not so mad anymore and anyways he's at work and Michael's off doing something for Amelie," she said, a frown spreading across her face, "I'm not quite sure exactly what he's doing, but whatever it is, Amelie thinks its top priority." She let out a sigh and flopped down next to me.
"Everything with Amelie is top priority," I said with a slight giggle. Eve rolled her eyes and nodded.
"Still, she's got me so worried about him, ah that woman! On top of that he won't even tell me a single thing, not one thing! I mean I get Amelie treating me like I'm not important, but I really can't stand it when Michael's all, 'It's vamp business, don't worry about it', like I'm crazy or something." Eve looked at the ground and absentmindedly drew lazy circles around the top of her coke can with her fingertip, lost in thought. I only could feebly nod my head with consent for her feelings.
"Anyways," she started, trying (and failing) to look happy, "What were you and psycho vamp up to?"
"Well, we were, um…experimenting, cuz that's what we scientists do!" I finished with a false bravado, hoping she would overlook my stuttering.
"What kind of experimenting?" she asked, eyebrows arched in delusive question. I began to answer her, but a sudden spark rippled through the house like a shiver sending chills down my back. I abruptly stood up, feeling threatened.
Someone's here.
But not just anyone, I soon realized. The house did not feel threatened by whomever the intruder was, quite the exact opposite. The house felt, happy, relieved. That could only mean one person…
She swept into the room with her inhuman grace, leaving an unnatural chill in her wake. Two guards garbed in black were tailing her, moving to stand equally apart in unison, staring straight ahead without blinking, a focused menace about them. Her lush, white-blonde hair was tied back in an intricate mass of braids and twirls, elegantly ending in a smooth bun. Her clothes were white, of course, she never dressed differently, and were tailored to fit her small frame with symmetry. She wore a pencil skirt that was cut conservatively and a sophisticated jacket with gold buttons tracing down the front. White pumps covered her feet and were craft fully high yet still practical and orthodox. She glanced over us with a bored, distasteful expression, occupied with her own culture and grace. Her eyes cut through the room like diamonds and sent icy spikes in every direction she glanced. She looked proud and dignified and seemed quite out of place in our mismatched kitchen. Her beauty was not at all diminished by her alien looks and fierce eyes, no, it only strengthened her propriety. Amelie.
Her gaze landed on me with severity, somehow managing an intensity while still appearing to look through me. She tilted her head at me, giving me a look of disdain.
"I regard that we have acquired a requisite to converse with one another," she articulated, her face turning even more disgusted at that, "Attend me." Without another word she turned deftly and glided through the door with an impossible grace and ease, not bothering to see if I was following. I suppressed a groan and gave Eve an annoyed look, hoping she wouldn't see the fear clouding my vision. She looked back at me, worry marking her own face and stood up as if to follow me. I shook my head and she sat back down, her breathing accelerated and heavy. Trying to look reassuring I shot her a small smile to make it seem as if it was just a simple conversation about my work of something equally trivial, but we both knew it was something much, much more.
I got up and followed the ice queen out the door with not even an ounce of her dexterity and poise, a million curse words running through my head as I imagined the worse.