The Hunger - Only Lovers Left Alive

Chapter Seventeen

Adjusting to life without Vincent was difficult.

Sure, he hadn't been around much to begin with for about half a decade, but I always knew in the back of my mind that he would come home to visit for a while before disappearing again.

Now he was gone, never to call at stupid o'clock in the afternoon or spring up with a packet of my favourite blood and that left an empty void in my stomach that Adam tried his hardest to fill.

I had to give kudos to him, he did a fine job with it but the adjustment took a while to get used to.

Adam was an amazing distraction from the loss.

He would rope me into going on nightly strolls with him, especially on nights when the moon was at its most beautiful, he would play me songs he conducted as he waited for me to wake once the sun had set and he tried to teach me how to play instruments.

I never succeeded, but the moment was fun and seeing Adam smile made me feel giddy in a way that I hadn't felt in many, many years.

Adam was stoic by nature and tended to keep his emotions in check to the point of having the ultimate poker face, so seeing him smile and laugh made my world spin with excitement and made me feel more special than I had in so many years.

However, it was mostly conflicting and I ultimately felt guilt settle in before sleep took me over.

My husband was dead and here I was, getting close to his murderer and feeling like a girl with her first crush around him.

The conflictions were tiring and more than a little grating.

One day, as I lay staring at the canopy of the four-poster bed, I found that sleep was alluding me and the sunlight beyond the blackout curtains seemed to drag slowly, refusing to give over to night so that I could get some fresh air.

I just needed to settle my thoughts, straighten them out once and for all, to feel less guilty about my enjoyment of continued life.

Adam lay beside me, as bare as the day he was born, which was pretty typical of him really.

I could swear that he had an allergy to clothes sometimes.

Not that I minded, he was a beautiful sight and I would dare say that he was one of the most stunning beings I had seen in many years.

Turning my head towards him, I wasn't prepared to make eye contact and flinched a little.

How long had he been watching me?

Why hadn't he said anything?

"Can't sleep?" He asked, voice gruff.

"No," I sighed.

"What's keeping you up?"

I frowned a little, nails pinching into the fingertips of the opposite hand.

"Honestly? Just about everything."

We fell silent.

Adam only let out a small hum as he rolled towards me, putting his arm over my waist as he rested his head against my shoulder, letting his eyes fall closed.

"Tell me," he started after a couple of minutes, "are you happy here with me?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation.

"Do you hate me?"

I tilted my head to look down at him, my hand finding its way into his hair, the fingers stroking it and easing out any knots.

"No, I should by right, but I don't."

"Good."

I nodded slowly, unable to stop the soft smile that crossed my lips.

"Yes, good indeed."

Some form of comfort started to slip over me and I began to drift off, my mind no more at ease than it was before but set in the terms of this peculiar relationship.

Perhaps one day he would leave, find someone to turn and take under his wing as I had.

Maybe he'd simply find another to love and I would become nothing but a part of his past.

However, in that moment, right there together on the bed, we were happy.

Not perfect, but happy.