In Between The Stars

Life and Death

AKIRA'S POV

"Daddy, please." I beg.

My father strides forward and snatches my hand out of Dylan's grip. To my surprise, he lets go without much resistance.

Daddy drags me along until we reach the open door.

"Sir, please, listen to me." Dylan says in an oddly complacent tone and my father halts for just a moment.

"Oh, I will." He mutters and walks out of the room with me in tow. "Follow me down to the living room." He orders and Dylan obliges.

We hobble down the spiral staircase with intricately carved wooden banisters which opens into a long, narrow corridor. I follow my father through this corridor which broadens out to a vast living room.

The carpeted room has high walls that are depicted with paintings similar to the one back in my room, which terminate to give rise to a semi-circular glass ceiling. The window that I'm facing is about ten feet high and opens up to the bare expanse of snow outside.

Beautiful wooden sofas and loveseats are skillfully arranged at the heart of the room, on the far end of which is a bar alcove that, I believe, is stacked with all kinds of drinks that a human has never tasted before.

The wall on my right side sports a magnificent fireplace with a sturdy metal surround and iron grates. I hear the pop and crackle that the cheery fire produces as it consumes the dry wood, pulsing out much needed heat into the enormous room.

As my eyes wander upwards, I notice one of the largest portraits that I've ever come across hanging over the mantelpiece.

The portrait has an ornate gilded frame within which is the frozen image of the smiling faces of my mother, aunt and I. Below this is a collection of smaller, silver-framed photos and tiny crystal vases.

My eyes well up with unexpected tears and I turn to look at my father through the film of water. He nods once thoughtfully and leads me further to sit on the sofa, warmly tucking me under his arm. Dylan settles himself into the love seat in front of us.

The tension in the room thickens the air so much that it almost chokes me. I gaze at Dylan with fervor and he looks back into my eyes with equal intensity.

"What makes you think that I would let a crook like you take my daughter away right from under my nose?" My father asks, finally breaking the silence. His voice is calm, but the undertones of disapproval and anger is quite apparent.

Dylan doesn't answer for a while, I can almost sense him turning the question over in his mind.

"Sir," He begins, sitting up a little straighter. "I was a completely different person the last time we met. I was young and poor and foolish beyond belief. I was....only human. But that isn't me anymore." He swallows and looks up at the stars through the ceiling. "I'm not telling you that I'm the best person that your daughter could have fallen in love with. But it isn't the same for me. I don't think I'll ever find anyone better than her. She's about as good as life gets for someone like me. I know that I sound selfish. And that's because I am. I don't know what I was before her. All I know is that I'm hers now." He looks at me. "Whatever is left of me belongs to her."

My father snorts. "Look, we're not discussing monopoly over here. Just because you are a supernatural being now doesn't mean you are any different. You were a detestable person back then and you are exactly the same even now. You will never deserve my daughter."

"I can't argue with you on that point, sir. I know that I never will." Dylan responds. "I'm only trying to tell you that I'm her choice. And there's nothing that you can do that'll change that."