A Vampire's True love [A short Story]

A Vampire's True Love

Guinevere stood on the small wooden bridge that crossed over a small creek, staring at the brilliantly bright full moon. When she'd been human, she loved to stare at the moon, to see the constellations in the sky, and enjoy a peaceful evening. When she'd been turned into a vampire, her senses had been amplified and her appreciation for the night had only gotten stronger. She watched the sky, and lost herself, losing time to its entrancing mysteries.  

After a while, she sighed and brushed a lock of raven hair from her face. Issac was never on time for anything, even if he'd been the one to set up the meeting, like tonight. He was always too early or late. He'd told her to meet him at the bridge at eleven. Guinevere slipped her cellphone from her pocket and checked to see what time it was. It was midnight already. Despite her lover's lateness, she found it in herself to smile. Guinevere loved Issac and everything that came with him, including his faults. Anybody who'd ever been in love the way she was knew the feeling. Another twenty minutes had passed before Issac showed up and Guinevere sensed him before she could see him. 

"My love?" He asked from behind her. 

Guinevere turned, slowly for a vampire, normal for a human, and glanced at him with her bright blue eyes. Owen was a handsome man (as in life, so in death) and had eyes the same color as milk chocolate and hair that was slightly darker. They looked so different from each other and yet found nothing but perfection in the other. 

"Who else would it be?" Her tone held humor. 

Issac approached her and followed Guinevere's lead, leaning on the railing of the bridge. "I am so sorry," He apologized, "I did not mean to be so late. I did my best to get here as soon as possible, but it couldn't be helped."

Guinevere nodded, understanding. She knew that she wouldn't have to push and ask what had kept him. He would tell her on his own when he wanted to, such was the trust, the love, and the emotion of their relationship, but the silence stretched on. Inside her mind, her thoughts whirled. She was impatient, though she didn't show it, and wanted him to speak, but he did not. In an attempt to seem disinterested, she glanced back to the moon.

Issac's hand found it's way to hers, interlocking their fingers in a loving gesture, "My Dear?"

"Yes?" She could have slapped herself for answering too quickly and seeming too anxious. 

He smiled at her and then asked, "How long have we been together?"

Guinevere had to think. They'd been together for so long, it was hard to remember a time when they weren't in love, especially since it wasn't what she wanted to know at the moment. Was he avoiding the subject on purpose? After a few beats, Guinevere decided on a simple answer, "A very long time,"

"Yes," Issac held back a small laugh, "But how much time?"

Guinevere shrugged. "Over six-hundred years. Almost seven-hundred now that I think of it,"

Issac nodded, his smile slowly fading into a troubled expression. 

Guinevere reached out with her other hand and placed it on his face, gently pulling him closer to her. "What is wrong, my love?" She asked. "You look distressed,"

His eyes met hers, and for a split second, it was like the first time all over again. Warm and fuzzy butterflies exploded in her stomach and she pulled him even closer. Issac ran a hand through Guinevere's hair and kissed her softly. She responded immediately, but then after a few moments, forced herself to pull away, despite every fiber of her being begging her to do the opposite. 

"What is wrong?" Issac asked. 

Guinevere's eyebrows knitted together. "You are not yourself. You evaded telling me exactly why you were late and now you kiss me to distract me. Do not think that I am unwise to your ways after so long. I love you, Issac, now speak to me and tell me what is wrong."

Issac groaned. "Are you sure you are a vampire? I have half a mind to think you a mind-reading witch instead,"

"Of course I am a vampire. You should know. You were the one who turned me so that we may be together,"

"Yes," He brought her knuckles to his mouth and kissed her hand gently. "I do remember something like that happening but that was so long ago. I barely remember," He kissed her hand again. 

"Do not joke with me on such a matter, Issac," Guinevere was abruptly serious, "The day we were finally able to be together is one of the best and last days of my life."

Issac pulled Guinevere close and held her tightly, burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathing in her scent. "Relax, my dear," He soothed and then said, "Do you have any idea how perfect you are? I am so lucky that you agreed to run away and die with me. I don't know where I would be if you had refused me when I sought you out that final night of your life." He pecked Guinevere's throat, "I love you,"

"I love you, too," Guinevere admitted, "Now tell me why you were so late,"

"I bought something for you."

"And what was that?"

Issac kissed her collar bone and then pulled back. "Almost seven-hundred years of loving you more than anything else in this world, and yet, we have not ever had this conversation."

Guinevere frowned. "What conversation?"

"Guinevere Beatrice Bennett," Issac continued, "What is your opinion on Marriage?"

By this point, Guinevere had caught on to what was happening, but pretended to remain oblivious. "Marriage is nothing more than a formality. When two people, like us, love each other very much, marriage is certainly an option, but it's also not a mandatory thing. Not like it was when we first got together,"

Issac blinked. "I'm not sure how to take that,"

A sly smile broke out across Guinevere's face. "Why? Because you already bought the engagement ring?"

He laughed. "Am I that easy for you to read?"

"Sometimes," She admitted, "But tonight you are giving me every hint in the book,"

"Oh,"

"Oh, indeed,"

For a moment, they remained silent. Then Issac asked, "So, are we getting married? Or. . ." He trailed off. 

"Yes, we are getting married," Guinevere placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and then his lips. He kissed her back effortlessly. 

"Then I suppose I may give you this?" He slipped a small black box from his pocket and opened it to show her. The ring was small, a thin golden band decorated with a single green emerald. It was nothing too extravagant, but in Guinevere's eyes, it was pure perfection. 

"It's beautiful,"

Issac smiled kindly at her, holding up the ring slightly as if to compare it to her. "I chose this one because it reminded me of you. The stone is the same color as your eyes," He paused looking at her, "But it doesn't quite shine so bright,"

Guinevere was sure that if she could blush, she would have. Issac loved to flatter her with comments like that and she didn't mind it. She knew he liked to see her when she was flustered and embarrassed because he thought it was cute. 

He slipped the ring onto her left ring finger. "So you do like it?" He asked. 

"I do," She confirmed, "But what took you so long?"

Issac shrugged, "I couldn't decide between this one or a three hundred thousand dollar ring with three huge diamonds,"

"Why? I would never want anything like that?"

"No," He nodded, agreeing, "You would not, which is why I didn't choose it. But you deserve something just as special."

Guinevere laughed and kissed him once more. "You, Issac Davis, are an idiot."

"Yes, but I do suppose that I'm your idiot?"

Guinevere nodded. "Yes, you're my idiot," 

They kissed again, carefully holding each other beneath the moonlight. Then, before the sun came up, they went home and enjoyed their new engagement and continue their eternity together.