The Damned Holies (The Fallen Wars 1)

Chapter Twenty

-Aimee, Hell-

God left without me. Why did he just leave? It can’t be.

I was still in Lucien’s arms. The cool breeze that wafted from the open window still ruffled my hair. The familiar sound of the crashing waves still echoed from outside. Lucien’s hands were still twisted in my shirt, hanging onto me for dear life.

“Aimee, you’re still here?” Lucien asked, sniffling. “It can’t be; it’s too good to be true. Go away, apparition.”

I opened my watery eyes and looked down at him, running my hands through his dark hair and inhaling his scent, which was the only thing I was familiar with. “It’s still me,” I whispered. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Lucien snapped to attention and kissed me all over. I buried my face into his chest afterwards and tried to cry quietly. I wasn’t sure if it was because God had deserted me, or because I had almost lost my Lucien forever.

“Aimee, it’s okay. I promise to keep you happy.”

“I know, Lucien, I know.” I kissed his chest even as I cried because in that moment, I loved him with my whole heart. “I love you.”

This very day was the start of eternity with Lucien, even though I had already thought it had started some time ago. I knew it in the very fiber of my being. And knowing that, something inside me broke and set me free. I cried for all of the families I destroyed by killing so many people, for reasons I convinced myself were justified. I cried because I would never see my family again, because my afterlife wasn’t meant for Heaven, it was meant for Hell. I cried because Reven broke my heart. I cried because I had been so foolish and reckless and selfish, I wasted my life and gave it away on a whim. I was a liar, a manipulator, a thief, and a murderer. My eyes have witnessed, my hands have done, things that I couldn’t even speak of now. I cried out of guilt, because I did want to go to Heaven, but Lucien still loved me anyways.

Every night I shed a tear for one person I killed. That was a lot of nights, and a lot of tears. Lucien held me in his arms and rocked me to sleep every night. Lucien was capable of love; I had been wrong in my first opinion of him. Reven was wrong. Even though Lucien didn’t understand why I was so emotional, he loved me with his whole heart and it was enough, because I loved him with my whole heart as well. He played with my hair while I sat in silence every night, lost in my horrible memories. I loved it but discouraged him because it made me sleepy and I never wanted to fall asleep then.

Forever with Lucien didn’t seem that long. Love was all we needed. Wherever Lucien was, it was home to me. I patiently let him take his time to fully open up to me. So when he finally showed me every little thing, good and bad, I tried my hardest to understand and not freak out about the horrible things he has done and has to deal with everyday.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I requested something unusual from Lucien. It could have been months, or even a millenia. I brought it up while we were having breakfast.

“Lucien, you know how I was kept prisoner for thirty some years?” I asked while pushing cereal around my ceramic bowl with a silver spoon.

He looked up from his plate of eggs. “Yeah, why?”

“I was wondering if I could have newspapers from back then. From Chicago.”

“Aimee, is that a good idea? I don’t want to discourage you, but I don’t want to see you upset. There’s probably things that will upset you.”

“I just want to know what went on. It’s a huge blip in my memory and it really bothers me.”

“That’s a lot of newspapers…”

“I know, but I have an eternity to read them,” I smiled, and added, with a kissy face, “with you.”

Lucien sighed but smiled. “They’re in the library. The first quarter of them, anyways.”

“Grazie, il mio amore.” I smiled and quickly finished my cereal. I rinsed the dish in the sink and put it into the dishwasher.

“Your eyes don’t change color anymore.” Lucien informed me while my back was to him.

“I know.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“No, I don’t mind.” I said lightly.

“Why?”

“It was never very important to me. Besides, don’t you like my brown eyes? They’re the color my mom had.” I winked.

He laughed. “Of course I do.”

I surprised him by planting a quick kiss on his lips before leaving the kitchen.

I found the library packed full of newspapers. The stacks almost reached the ceiling. I determined which newspaper was the first and climbed into the armchair, avidly reading and trying not to notice how much more my scars were showing.