Foretold

Chapter 8

Alex lay on his bed tossing. It wasn't because of the uncomfortable hardness of the bed so much as it was Vasiliki that kept him awake. Well, thoughts of her, really, not the woman herself. 

It had been three weeks since his conversation with Vasiliki in his bedroom. He had been struggling with his feelings about her ever since. She had occupied his thoughts every minute she wasn't with him, and he was beginning to wish it wasn't so. He knew what it was. He was in love. And the realization scared him. He'd never been in love with anyone before. Oh, he'd liked some of the girls back in England, but he hadn't loved them. Compared to Vasiliki, they might as well be mud.

He sat up, tired of tossing. He wrapped his arms around his legs, shivering. Glancing at the moon in an attempt to guess the time, he stood up and pulled on the clothing Vasiliki had given him a week ago. Apparently she'd gotten tired of looking at the same clothes every day and after tree months in the same thing, he guessed he hadn't smelled very good.

When he had finished pulling everything on, he went to stand by the window.

It didn't appear that he was going to get much sleep tonight. 

***

Vasiliki stood in front of her window, restless and discontent. 

She longed to tell Alex the truth about how she felt, but she was afraid. Afraid of what he might do or say. Afraid of what might happen if someone found out. Because her feelings might put them into a lot of danger. 

And if Alex died, it would be all her fault. It would be her fault for saying something to him about her feelings. It would be her fault for not stopping the feelings before they went any further. 

She wouldn't be able to bear that. It would be too much for her. She'd already lost so much. Well, not so much lost as never had. She was missing out on so many things in life that should have been natural experiences for a woman of her age. 

She couldn't bear to lose Alex too after all the things that had been going wrong lately. She needed Alex even if she wasn't able to tell him the truth about her feelings. 

She collapsed onto the cold floor of her room, the hot tears sliding down her cheeks and glittering in the moon's light. 

You should just tell him. Her mind whispered. 

She shook her head in a physical response to the whispered desire. I can't... I can't... I just can't tell him... If I do... If I tell him... I risk everything... I risk losing him. I risk killing him accidentally because of what I felt. I risk killing us both. I risk our friendship. I risk it all. And I cannot lose. If I risk it, I cannot lose it! She screamed back, weeping. 

Someone's soft footstep on her rush-covered floor alerted her to the intruder. 

She turned, the tears streaking her face in the moonlight. 

Her mother stood in the doorway, her nightgown billowing in the light breeze from the open window in Vasiliki's room. 

"What is it that keeps you from your rest and has you showing such emotion, my daughter?" Her mother murmured. 

Vasiliki turned away. "Love..." She whispered. 

Her mother walked over to her, standing beside her at the window. "Love?"

"You would not understand. I will not tell you. And you would have no desire to know." Vasiliki answered, keeping her gaze fixed on the tree-line of the forest as she tried to keep the tears at bay. 

"Perhaps I would. You must give me a chance to understand... Otherwise, how can I ever understand?" Kyrene asked, smiling sadly. 

Vasiliki gazed down at the window sill, a lone tear splashing onto the adobe of the window frame. "I cannot tell you. If I did, you would be disappointed and more than likely, people I care for would be hurt even if I was not."