Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Five

"The right side of my neck

Still smells like you."

***

I stirred to the gentle embrace of sunlight filtering through the windows, the warm rays coaxing my eyes open with a tender touch. Sensitivity to the light made it a struggle, each blink a gradual effort to adjust to the brightness of the new day. The warmth of the morning contrasted with the remnants of a night filled with shadows and enigmatic encounters.

After a moment, I sat up in my bed, gently rubbing the remnants of sleep from my eyes. My gaze wandered around the empty room, the solitude accentuating the memories from the previous night as they played out vividly in my mind. Each scene unfolding like fragments of a vivid dream against the backdrop of the morning light.

The night commenced in the form of normalcy—a conversation, a movie. Yet, it ended in ways beyond my comprehension. The reality of the situation still eludes me, as if the events of that night exist in a surreal realm, waiting to fully manifest in my understanding.

The aftermath remains a puzzle, leaving me uncertain about the path forward, questioning what steps to take or what decisions to make. The dilemma of whom to confide in arises – who would believe such a tale? Olivia surely wouldn't. Perhaps no one would. Life, however, insists on moving forward, so must I, navigating the enigma that lingers in the wake of an extraordinary and inexplicable night.

I switch off the lamp's useless illumination before carefully rising to my feet and venturing out of the bedroom. The floor, chilly and unforgiving, protests with each step, urging me forward toward the sanctuary of the kitchen. The promise of coffee becomes my sole motivation, a beacon guiding me through the somber morning haze. Entering the living space, uncertainty clouded my perception as if my eyes were engaged in a playful deception. There, in the kitchen, Harry's familiar figure stood, bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun, casting an ethereal aura around him. His gaze fixed on the outside world through the window, a silhouette framed by the sunlight, casting an enigmatic presence in the room. His head pivoted in my direction, as if an innate sense alerted him to my presence.

A soft smile unfurled on his lips, illuminating his features as he greeted me, "Good morning."

I stood rooted in place, a sense of surrealism lingered as my brain grappled with the possibility that I might still be dreaming.

"Morning," I responded, the word carrying a subtle hesitation.

He glided towards the island in the kitchen, leaning on it with casual grace, his spirits evidently high and a chipper mood surrounding him.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, the question hanging in the air like a thread connecting the events of the night and the ordinary morning unfolding before us.

"I'm fine," I replied, proceeding with small and cautious steps, my words carrying a hint of vulnerability, "A little woozy."

"It'll pass," he reassured, a wry grin forming, "Just be glad I'm not a 'true' vampire. A bite from them, and you might wake up as a spawn, like my good self. All of a vampire's hunger but few of their powers," his words carried a hint of jest, yet the underlying truth echoed in the room.

"Is that why you can stand in the sun? Because you're not a 'true' vampire?" I queried, my gaze drifting towards the window where he had stood just moments ago.

"Oh, no. I should be cinders in the light," he mused, his words imbued with a hint of fascination and disbelief. Pausing momentarily, as if deliberating whether to delve deeper into the explanation, he continued, "I hadn't seen the sun for over two hundred years after I turned. It's the ring. Changes the rules. Standing in the sun, wading through a river, wandering into homes without an invitation - they're all perfectly mundane activities now," his gaze shifted to the silver ring adorning his finger.