When Secrets Run Out

Realizations and Staring

Elijah's POV

"My Bond isn't a woman my dear Elijah. My Bond is you."

I can vaguely feel my brows lower and settle, confusion clouding my mind, keeping me from taking in the exact words that I was hoping to hear, but never in a million words did I think it would happen.

My eyes fall to the floor, barely seeing the old wood planks, my head in a million billion places as my mind tries to wrap itself around the most impossible stupid, wonderful thing I've ever heard. But just as excitement starts to set in, doubt, as always, is next to sweep in, digging roots into the hood buried beneath the stuffed that I tried to stow away from view.

My face burns red as I think about the tiniest possibility and even though I know it would never happen, my stomach begins to twist and turn at the thought, making me feel like I might throw up at any moment.

But to my upmost embarrassment when my mouth opens, diverse of excusing myself to the bathroom, words stream out into the air, making my ears turn to match my blotchy face.

"Are you saying this as a joke?" My voice, to my surprise, is hard and firm, unlike the fear running along my spine making me want to huddle closer to myself and cry until I can forget about the butterscotch eyes that find mine, magnets to my own.

And what I find is an angry looking Oliver, his brows creased, eyes piercing, but instead of feeling fear, the pure animal anger I see in his eyes takes my breath away, the wild look making my own survival instincts kick up, my heart starting to race, but i for all the writing reasons. The more I look at his chiseled body, his dark and brooding features, and the twitch of his soft pink lips, my legs close to hide a very obvious growing problem.

My throat feels dry as Oliver makes his way towards me, and my eyes, for the first time, pay attrition to the way his steps flow like silk, soft and smooth, barely making a sound against the floors that are hundred of years old.

I frown to myself, upset that I missed these details before, regardless of my weird feelings and suspicions.

But before I can think, a warm slim hand finds its way into my gaze, long fingers tiling my head up until my eyes are once again in his, though now only mere inches of nothing but air separates us, my stomach quivering at the thought.

"I wouldn't dare fathom any such idea that would cause you any harm or discomfort. You have been mine since the very moment your foot passed through the forest that led you to me. You've been mine since you stumbled through your first hello. Never question my sincerity nor truth, or else I will have no other option but to showcase my true feelings for you and the world to see." His voice is still smooth, but there's now an edge, scrapping against the silk, rough against the shell of my ear as he warns me not to question him again.

My words get stuck in my throat, the blood pulling them down until my thoughts twist and turn, and I'm ready to blow. I squirm slightly, pulling away from the alluring natural scent of the man before me, as much as I wish I could jumó into his arms and never let go.

Because I was right.

From the moment I saw him, I knew that the two of us would be together, even after my friends called me crazy with a death wish.

Noticing the way I'm shifting in my seat, Oliver leans back, giving me back the personal space that I don't need or want. I almost groan out loud as I watch him pull back, his face once more hard for me to read, but I'm too excited to care. The questions thats been whirling around my head finally begin to make sense, and my curiosity is too much, my mouth opening to speak before I even think about the words.

"Does that mean I have to turn into a Vampire?" I ask, and I bite my lip, hoping that it wasn't a stupid question, but Oliver doesn't laugh, just leans against the counter near me, arms folded, as he answers.

"No, I could never turn you into a Vampire. Not only is it a myth, but I wouldn't subject you to the torment of hiding out the rest of your days cast away from society. Humans are creatures that need company." He tells me, his voice ringing of that loneliness that I heard earlier. "However there are alternative options that would cause a similar but not as drastic change."

My interest peaked, I immediately ask to know, and shy or reserved trait within me gone as I hang onto his every word, his calm guarded eyes watching my every move, though neither of us mention it. "What do you mean?"

"For example if I had a human for a Bond," He starts, and I smile a little, still not believing that it's true, and the action caused his own lips to rise softly. "I could do one of two things to be with them. Technically it's one of three. One option would be to do nothing, to be together and live until my Bond died. I would either chose a second or die myself, not wanting to live without that other half. The second option would be biting your neck, drinking a fraction of your blood, and in turn, transform into a fragile human to live out the rest of our limited lives with one another. The last would be cutting myself and allowing you to drink my blood, stopping the time in your body, allowing you to become immortal, forcing you to hide with me for the rest of eternity." He explains, and by the way he explains it, I can tell which one he would hate the most.

The silence falls on the two of us, and I smile, knowing what I want to see, and knowing exactly how to break the silence do that maybe, just maybe, Oliver will chose to live out the rest of our limited fragile lives together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~
So Elijah finally knows! Did you except his response? What do you think is going on in Oliver's head right now?

Thoughts?

Comments?

QOTD: Taco or quesadilla?