Zoe's only wish is to be able to run barefoot through grass, but she knows it'll never happen. Ever since she was born, she's been unable to touch anything living without it instantly dying. It's a curse she would do anything to get rid of, but that...
After Zoe had said her age, Alex seemed completely lost, and it was anyway late, so we went to bed. Alex convinced us she should sleep on the couch and we would take her bed. She wasn't very coherent, but it was clear she didn't want to accidentally walk into something in the living room in the morning.
Zoe got a T-shirt from Alex to sleep in, while I simply striped down to only my underwear. It was so strange, though, to see Zoe in something so normal. Even the dress she had worn during the day had an old-fashion feeling over it, but now she laid in my arms in a Nirvana T-shit. There was just something absurd about it.
"Did you know about my age?" she asked once we were comfortably snuggled together.
"Dad said that the first proof of your killings is from seventy years ago. When I did my research on the coven, it seemed to me you were around already a hundred years ago."
"Oh, okay. And you're fine with it?"
I could feel her anxiety and kissed her forehead lightly.
"Of course I'm okay with it. You're still you. I am curious, though. How do witches stay young and alive for so long? I assume blood from virgins isn't involved?"
She laughed softly. It was so beautiful. Like wind chimes. "No. It's just the way we are. And the more powerful a witch is, the older she usually becomes. Four hundred years is on the low end and eight hundred is the oldest I've heard of."
My arms around her tightened before my thoughts caught up with my sudden sadness. I had maybe seventy years more to live, if I was lucky. By that time, she would have at most only lived half of her life. The thought of losing her pained me, and I assumed it was the same for her. Would she then live alone with that pain for the rest of her life? What would happen to her? Would she be okay?
"Is there a way to extend one's life?" I asked.
"Yes, but... Not through witchcraft. Or at least not any witchcraft I know of. And... It's not something I want you to consider."
"Why?" My voice rose in volume and a trace of anger slipped in.
She put her hand to my cheek and gave me a sad smile. "Because there are always other consequences. Like becoming a vampire would make you stop aging. But you then would need blood to survive and you wouldn't be able to be in the sun for prolonged periods of time. I wouldn't want you to do something like that for me. And then I would anyway die one day and what would you then do? Live on as a vampire for all eternity?"
I was on my way to answer her that of course I wouldn't, I could always decide to die then. But I realized that if she would say the same thing, I would get angry. The idea of her not living her full life just because I was gone felt like torture. So even though we both maybe thought the same way in that moment, none of us voiced it.
"We have time to figure it out," I said instead to end the conversation.
But it felt heavy between us. The unspoken creating an uncomfortable blanket. So I searched and searched for a new topic in my head before finally finding one.
"When everything is settled, I was thinking we could live in my dad's house. It's big enough so your dad can live with us too, and any potential future additions. We can make it into an actual home. Tear down the fence around the garden and there's plenty of space for you to plant and grow any flowers and vegetables that you would want."
"The inside needs a lot of work too," she pointed out, but she sounded and felt lighter.
"But with magic it would go quick, wouldn't it?"
"Yes. But where's the fun in that?"
I moved so I could see her face. She smiled, almost like a kid up to no good. I bent my head and kissed her. Just a brief kiss, but as soon as I separated our lips, I went back for more. I really could stay in bed with her for forever. Never letting go and exploring her body over and over.
I rolled over so she was beneath me. Her right leg went up to wrap itself around me and I caressed her up her thigh. With our lips still locked together, I could feel the vibration of her moan. It made my excitement increase, and I moved my body towards hers. Feeling the pleasure the movement caused me in my body and heard on her moans how she liked it.
There was a flush of the toilet and both of us stopped. We separated our lips but stayed close so our heavy breathing mixed together.
"We shouldn't while we're staying here," she mumbled, and it was too dark for me to see the blush I was sure spread over her cheeks.
"Then you'll have to stop being adorable," I said before kissing her nose and rolling off her.
"How was I being adorable?" she asked in a slightly offended tone.
"You just always are. Like right now, you're definitely being adorable."
"Silly," she mumbled before laying down comfortably again, using me as her pillow.
I shook my head and smiled, but didn't say anything more. Instead, I just concentrated on the comfortable feeling of having her in my arms.
"Felix," she broke the silence after a long time. "I'm a murderer."
I tightened my hold and the guilt and regret and fear she felt almost broke me. It was like all the pains I had ever felt in my life added together times a thousand. It both froze me and burned me. As if ice spread from my heart while the fire licked my skin.
I took a deep breath and calmed myself from the avalanche of negative emotions.
"No, you're not," I told her in a firm voice. "They used you. You did what you had to do to protect yourself and your dad."
"I'm still a murderer." Her voice was small and quiet and I knew I wouldn't be able to change her mind, maybe not ever.
"To me, you're not," I simply said instead of trying to convince her she wasn't one.
I heard as she sighed in relief.
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