IncuBUST

The Park

I was just about to open the car door when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was him. I could tell before I even turned to look. 

"I'm sorry about her. She--"

"It's fine," I said cutting him off and yanking open the door. 

"No, it's not. She had no reason to say those things to you. It was Augie's fault. You haven't done anything wrong," he insisted. 

"Yes, I have," I replied pushing him away and getting in the driver's seat. Before I could start the car he climbed in the passenger's seat. 

"You haven't." I looked at him. He seemed so earnest. Like he actually cared about me. Like he was in pain because I was in pain. 

"I killed Octavia's dad. Your mother is right. I'm not harmless. I'm a murderer," I snapped. It was true. Oh god. I was a murderer. I had killed before when I was young. When I was just coming into my powers. When I didn't understand my hunger. But it had been over a hundred years. I could feel tears burning in the back of my throat. 

He suddenly let out a sob and I leaned away from him. He was crying. Like full on bawling his eyes out. Shit. What did I do now? I reached out and cautiously pat his shoulder. 

"I'm so sorry. It...It must be really hard. Having to take your dad's place and then--"

"Fuck!" he exclaimed violently rubbing his eyes, "That's not why I'm crying." I was confused. He gave a loud sniffle and pinched his own arm so hard it left a red mark. 

"Then why are you crying?" I asked warily staring at him. He shook his head and said, "There's a park just outside the neighborhood. Can you take me there?" I blinked in bewilderment then glanced back at the house. 

"I don't know if--"

"Please," he begged and his fingers curled around my forearm. There was that same sensation like a soft electrical current racing up my veins. I heard the door open and Charlotte came rushing out. He shook me and said, "Now." I started the car and peeled down the street before she could reach us. He released my arm and sat back in the passenger seat, sniffling quietly as the last of his tears rolled down his cheeks. 

We left the neighborhood and I found the park a quarter of a mile away. I parked beneath a tree to shield the car from the sun and turned to him asking, "Are you gonna tell me what the hell just happened?" He looked at me. His eyes were pink from crying. A crease appeared between his eyebrows and he leaned towards me. I edged away. 

"You're really strong," he said before getting out of the car and starting down a dirt path. I sat there for a moment wondering what he meant. I hadn't done anything to showcase any kind of strength. I shook my head and followed him. I could see his aura again from this distance. It looked different from before. I was probably imagining things, but it almost looked like mine. 

I caught up with him and asked, "Where are you going? Can I leave?" He stopped and turned around to face me. 

"I haven't cried from someone else's pain in almost three years," he said. What did that mean? He continued down the path. I stayed where I was staring after him. He glanced back at me and suddenly I wanted to follow him. I wanted to taste him again. I had a feeling it would be different here. I started after him.