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A decade ago, a blood war took place emerged from the taboos of young Romeo and Juliet; a vampire and a mortal. As the tragedy goes, together, the paramours are bound to be led to the bite of awakening an impeccable and ravenous baby bi...
"Hi miss," a little boy greeted, tugging on her cloak to stop her in the middle of the busy street. "Have you heard of strawberries?"
The woman looked down to see a kid dressed in so many layers, brilliant scarlet cloth beneath the smudges of exhaust-fume pollution, his skin was hidden behind layers of grime and his hair hung as a tangled mop of blonde. Her cold stare bewildered the boy, who was yet to be accustomed to the emotions of this world.
"I've only seen them in posters and they were as red as this cloth," he continued, plausibly only in need of human interaction, even for a little while.
She frowned. Her gaze always intimadated humans and they would pull away without second thoughts. She assumed that his oblivion was a trait of all uneducated humans that had no shelter. "Are those your parents?" she asked, pointing at the bunch of haggard people isolated in the alleyway.
"No, all they do is steal a piece the bread or fabric I earn," he said with a bitter look in his eyes.
"Would you like to try some?" she asked, wondering to herself why she offered to the creature she swore not to involve herself with again. "Strawberries."
His face lit up. "You're the nicest human around here, miss."
Her cherry eyes glowed underneath her hood, walking away with the boy trailing from behind.
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A wide variety of shops lined the nearby streets: antique and luxury boutiques, bakery, food stalls and all showcasing an array of the finest Italian wares. One of which, caught the woman's eyes: a basket filled with strawberries. It's been a couple decades since she had a taste of human blood. She stared at the fruit, reminiscing the strange little boy she encountered, then. For her, it only seemed like yesterday.
"Hey lady," someone called, approaching her from behind. "Can you get me those?"
She didn't like the smeared grin on his face. Ignoring him, she asked for a bag of the strawberries. Through her hood, she caught a glimpse of his expectancy but disregarded it. Anyone more trusting isn't with us anymore, they don't exist.
The saleslady handed the basket, in which she received and merely walked away from the stall.
"Hey!" the man who seemed to be in his twenties yelled, following her. "That. . ."
She saw the disappointment in his eyes when she took the bag for herself, but his human emotions didn't faze her. She kept calm and took one out of the bag, biting on the juicy flavor. Then another.
"Pretty busy day, huh? I heard that it's the lost royal prince's birthday," he mentioned while pushing through the crowd to catch up beside her. "Seems like there's going to be a festival tonight. Are you going?"
He figured that his attempt at starting a conversation was futile so he went along with it and embraced the comfortable silence. They kept walking until they arrived at an openspace. The way the grasses are, tufting and waving as the ocean may on a windswept day, the green hues deepens and lightens in the sun rays. She sat in the middle of the field, revealing the hidden long black strands beneath her hood. She took another berry out with no intention of sharing them with a stranger who followed her all the way out here.
He stared at the way her skin looked, reflecting against the setting sun; it seemed to be getting flakier under the heat, in a bizarre way.
"Hey, your skin," he said.
Leave me alone. I'm exfoliating, she thought.
He snorted from beside her, catching her by surprise. She suspected his humanity for a second before realizing the absurdity of the thought as she sniffed his scent. His gaze shifted to the strawberry between her fingers, wondering if she'll ever come around. He remained silent, getting more and more discouraged as she took one bite after another, without an ounce of acknowledgement for his existence.
"That's enough," he mumbled and snatched the bag out of her hands. When he looked inside, there was one left. The lingering hope he had crushed him as his heart fell in dejection. Disheartened, he gently scoffed before his presence disappeared from the middle of the field in a split second.
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It's been another decade since her encounter with the strange man, who vanished. She was well aware of the limited capacities of the human body to know that despite his native scent, he seemed anomalous. She sat on her usual spot, caressing the peace of the meadow, thinking of the last time she interacted with one.
"Hi miss," a voice startled her from above.
She jumped up from her relaxed state and stiffened in a defensive pose, comprehending how weird it was for her to be oblivious to his presence. She would've sensed it approaching her. Strawberry boy, she thought internally as his blonde strands glowed under the moonlight.
"What are you?" she asked the question that's been in the back of her mind for years.
His soft lips stretched into a smile but didn't quite reach his gloomy eyes. The forced expression of the contrary on his mouth oddly warmed her soul. "So you can speak."
She kept her guard up and hissed, "Who are you?"
"Strawberry boy," he snickered before shifting back to his calm expression. Internally, he was happy that she finally wants to know a little more about him on a personal level. All it took was a little risk. "Hey, let's start over. What's your name?"
So you've always been reading my thoughts? She glared, regretting not finding the need to conceal them when she was around humans. "Isn't it common courtesy to introduce yourself first?"
I'm sorry. I was born on the streets, so I'm not used to the rules of this world. His thoughts came seeping through her head. "I'm Eric, a half-breed." His eye shone a bright shade of red within the darkness for a moment.
She gasped and they locked gazes in an unblinking stare. The wave of unwanted thoughts return with a vengeance. Once again her soul is colored completely, and all the negative energy was thrown into the memories of her past racing wildly around the mind. She stared back at him with the same eyes and whispered, "Freya, pureblood."
