Morana knows she's different from other people in more ways than one. Firstly, she's sixty-seven years old but stopped ageing in her twenties. Weird things have also happened around her right after she's wished for it. But most importantly, no matte...
I knew Alejo was pissed off at me, and he had all rights to be. It had been about a week since we had been to the Library and I had barely left my room. I hadn't told him what the voices were. Hadn't explained I carried death with me. Instead, I had simply avoided him.
But it was all for his sake. I avoided him to make sure he wouldn't die. Or not really. I avoided him because I couldn't bear to face the fact that I would maybe be responsible for his death. I needed a way to stop that from happening, but I had no clue how. So, for the first time in my life, I ran as far away from the problem as possible instead of facing it.
Though I did try some things. I spent most of my time meditating, tried to figure the black thread out. Tried to find a way to destroy it and expel it from myself. Of course, I had no luck in that. It all felt completely pointless. But I had no other idea of how to protect Alejo, so I couldn't give up.
But the thread was immobile and as mysterious as before, and the voices remained silent.
I laid on my bed, covered by the blanket, lights off, just hiding from everything. There was a knock on the door, followed by Alejo's voice.
"There's dinner."
"I'll come in a sec," I answered, determined to do what I had done the past few days. Take food and then return to my bedroom to eat. The less contact he had with me, the better.
I got out of bed and caught the sight of myself in the mirror. My hair was a bushy mess, and, in the darkness, the white of it stood out. It was time to change it back to black. To just accept that darkness and death were a part of me.
The light from the hallway made me blink when I opened the door. It was so bright and hurt my eyes.
I was also hit by a delicious scent. Warmth. It smelled warm and comforting, and it almost made me turn back to my room.
Alejo had set the small table in the kitchen and the smell came from a pot of what looked like pumpkin soup that stood on the stove. The oven was also on and I couldn't see exactly what was in there, but it looked to be a cake of some sort.
"There's some homemade bread also," Alejo announced and pulled away a kitchen towel that had covered a basket of small buns.
I felt completely speechless. All other days that week, he had just ordered something and then asked me to eat with him when I had turned to leave. It had been easy to turn down his request then, but now, with his own cooking and a cake waiting...
"I hope you're not planning on running away again," he said, as if he was reading my mind.
"You'd likely chain me to the chair if I tried," I mumbled.
"That's right!" he answered cheerily and started spooning up soup into my bowl.
"I should though," I added, and he stopped in the middle of adding a spoonful to the bowl. Slowly, he put it down and faced me. The cheeriness from his previous statement was gone, and anger had taken over.
"Why?" he demanded, and I looked away.
I really couldn't bring myself to say it, to explain what I had found out at the Library. He had asked me about it several times, but I had refused to say.
I kept on dreaming of him dying also, which made all things even worse. The image of how the Librarian had looked haunted me.
"Is it some similar bullshit reasoning as after Samhain? Some weird and dumb idea of wanting to protect me?" he demanded when I didn't answer.
My eyes were on the floor and his anger and words felt like nails slowly being pressed into my skin. I hated hearing him say them. I hated that he was angry with me. I hated that if I kept this up, I would eventually lose him. But I couldn't escape it.
"If that's the case, just stop it. I'm an adult and can make my own decisions about who I want to spend my time with. Whatever risk you think there might be with me spending time with you, just tell me instead so I can choose to ignore it."
"You might die," I mumbled to the floor.
"We all might die every day. Just walking down the street might get us killed."
"This is different," I pleaded.
"I don't give a damn. Even if spending time with you somehow ends up killing me, I would have no regrets. So give it up. You won't get rid of me that easily."
I watched as a tear fell and landed on the floor. "I would have to live with the guilt."
"Then I free you of all guilt right here and now. If I, for some reason, would die because of spending time with you, then I take full responsibility for my own death and you have no blame in the matter."
"Stop it," I begged him, and more tears fell as my body started to tremble.
"No. I don't think you realize how much you have changed my life. Before you, I basically wasted my days away. Sure, I have friends like Rick and Maya, but they just visit from time to time. I never really had a job or anything like that to give some meaning to my life. A normal day for me was to just watch some movies. Maybe read some books. All was pointless and a way to make time pass by. But life isn't like that anymore."
I looked up and my heart drummed fast as I met his gaze. There was fierceness in his eyes, but also a gentle love. One that made it impossible for me to turn away because I craved that more than anything else.
He took a step forward, closed the distance between us. He brushed some of my hair back, tucked it behind my ear, and let his hand linger on my cheek. Then he leaned in and placed soft kisses under both of my eyes. Kissed where I knew streams of tears were.
He didn't move away. Our foreheads leaned against the other's. Noses touching. I had my eyes closed and could feel the heat from him. The heat from his lips that was less than an inch from mine. Our breaths mingled and my nostrils were filled with the scent of him. The sweetness of strawberries.
If things had been different, we would definitely have kissed at that moment. But since things were the way they were, we didn't. Instead, we just remained in that position. The missing action between us feeling more intimate than a kiss would have.
"We should eat," he said and broke some of the tension between us. But we were so close that him speaking only felt like it increased the intimacy of the situation.
"Yeah," I agreed. "Before it gets cold."
We stayed where we stood. Neither of us moved away from the other.
"Can you just promise me to stay safe?" I asked him. "I don't think I could handle watching you die."
"I promise."
I knew it was an empty promise, not one he could uphold. But it still settled my worries and fears a little.
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