She shouldn't have let it slip, not in front of David. Not that these things mattered anymore, but Sofie feels desperate to cling on to the last gasps of her humanity.
It's her birthday. David found out two days ago and was practically giddy. The boys are bored, restless, and tired of being cooped up - actually, David is. They're going out tonight. David is anxious for a good hunt. Sofie can feel the urge pulsing through him. If she's honest with herself, she is too. The quick kills are somewhat satisfying, but it's nothing quite like sprinting after your prey down the beach, practically tasting their fear floating on the summer breeze. She hates that she misses it so much.
They've been hiding from Detective Ridge for almost two months. David's presence has become like nails on a chalkboard. Everyone is on edge around him. He's growing bored of Star, while Star is becoming more and more distant from him and the rest of the boys. Sofie senses something awakening deep within her friend, but if she knows anything specific, she doesn't say much. Star flocks to Sofie for comfort and adult conversation, which Sofie offers, sometimes in excess. Star plays cards and chess with Laddie; she takes him for burgers and carries his limp rag doll body to bed when he falls asleep on the couch. She's become his more permanent caregiver over the past month and a half. Laddie seems to enjoy having a more motherly figure around.
Sofie and Marko spend their evenings at the cave, or at her apartment, reading, watching TV, and tumbling around in their bed. David has advised them to completely avoid the boardwalk and has asked that Sofie dodge the detective's calls. He only shows up to her work once. She answers a few mundane questions and breathes a sigh of relief as his car peels out of the parking lot, but other than that, life has been fairly ordinary. She goes to work at night and comes home to find Marko reading on the couch with a slice of pizza in his hand. He always saves her the last piece. They squabble over the remote, over who picked the TV show the night before, who takes the garbage out, and whose turn it is to do the dishes. Sometimes they feel exactly like a married couple rather than two monsters who sprout fangs and guzzle blood like it's water. She enjoys the calmness; the heartbeat of normalcy, as fleeting as it is.
They're perched on the bed, surrounded by candles while a Motley Crüe record plays in the background. The sound is strangled as it pours from the speakers. Sofie's makeup bag has been gutted and its contents lay scattered on the sheets. Marko is sitting on his haunches holding a small brush in his hand while balancing a pot of black eyeliner on his bare knee. Sofie's eyes are firmly shut. It's the hundredth time he's told her to keep still, but she keeps laughing or squealing whenever he comes near her with the brush. With one hand, he's grasped her gently by the chin while the other rests on her cheek. She hasn't worn makeup in the longest time, save for her signature poppy red lipstick. She's been complaining about it for the past few days. While he's told her she's beautiful and she's slowly beginning to come around to the idea, she misses getting dolled up - a part of her femininity that was abandoned the moment she agreed to immortality. No mirrors means no complicated makeup. Tonight, Marko insists on helping her.
"Marko!" She hisses as he holds her chin firmly in place. "You're going to poke my eye out!"
"Only if you don't stop moving," he says, his voice still husky from sleep.
"Sorry," she mumbles. "I'm just used to doing this myself."
"Yeah, well, without a mirror, you're going to look crazy," he replies, dragging the brush gently across her eyelid. "I know what I'm doing."
"I don't believe you," she laughs.
"I used to do this for my sister all the time."
She stills and Marko takes his chance to flick the line out into a beautiful, thick wing. He blows gently on the line to dry it quickly.
"You have a sister?" She asks, keeping her eyes closed. She pictures a cherubic blonde with softer features and long, golden blonde hair.
"Had. She died a long time ago."
"Did you..."
"No. Tuberculosis. She was in her thirties. I offered to turn her but she refused."
"I'm sorry," Sofie whispers, opening her eyes to meet his ocean blue ones. Marko smiles and shakes his head.
"It's okay. She got to make a choice. That was important to me."
Sofie leans in to kiss him. Marko chuckles nervously and pulls back. His sister is a sensitive subject. She doesn't need to be bound to him to figure that out.
"Close your eyes," he whispers. "I used to be an artist, and the sicker Anna got, the less she could do for herself. She told me that makeup was just like painting, so I would do this for her every night after the sun went down. I figured the least I could do after..." The story pours from his lips so readily, yet his voice still clenches. It's painful to listen to. "I owed it to her to help her through the rest of her life."
He sighs and dips the liner brush back into the pot as he gently caresses Sofie's cheek. His touch is delicate and gentle.
"That's sweet," Sofie offers. "You were a good brother."
"I don't know about that."
His pain echoes in her chest. The image of Marko's sister appears faintly in the back of her mind like faded photograph. Sofie's not sure if it's her imagination or an image Marko is offering her. She rests her hand on his knee, squeezing it gently.
"Did you paint?"
"Yeah. Oils. Landscapes. I kept some. I'll show you when I'm done this."
He sweeps the brush across her left lid and blows gently on the wet line until it dries matte. Both wings match perfectly, a testament to his artistry.
"Done," he breathes.
His voice forces Sofie's eyes to pop open and she blinks at him. He grins, his eyes dancing across her face.
"You're so beautiful."
"I wish I could see myself."
He captures her lips and kisses her, soft and sweet.
"Trust me."
Quickly, he dusts her cheeks with a soft peach blush and swipes her signature color over her mouth before slamming his lips against hers and almost kissing all of it off. Sofie squeals with delight as he pulls away. She rakes her fingernails up and down his bare arms with a feather-light touch. Marko hums quietly.
"Can I see your paintings?"
He nods and bounces off of the bed before crawling underneath it. Sofie leans over to get a better look. He drags out a few large pieces of canvas and blows the dust off of them. The paintings are stunning. Lush, green fields, mountains, and rushing rivers. The lines are crisp and clean, yet at the same time barely there. Sofie gasps and he looks up at her, his eyes wide.
"Marko, these are beautiful."
"I did them from memory," he whispers. "I saw this place in a dream years ago and couldn't get it out of my head."
She gazes at him in all of his beauty and vulnerability.
"You should paint more."
He nods.
"I'd like to."
"If it motivates you, I'll let you paint me naked."
He tosses his head back and a loud cackle escapes his throat.
"Don't tempt me," he warns.
They giggle and dress, walking hand in hand out into the lobby. Paul lets out a wolf whistle while David raises his eyebrows.
"Damn, Sof," Paul quips. "You clean up nice."
"It's all Marko."
David is shrugging on his coat while Star buttons up Laddie's jacket and combs his hair out of his face with her fingers. Dwayne lingers by the entrance of the cave, tapping on the wall with a nervous energy that she's never seen from him before.
"Where are we going?"
"There's a concert on the boardwalk," David replies. "Some heavy metal band. Lots of people."
She nods and watches her brothers twitch with anticipation.
"There's gonna be tons of hot girls there," Paul adds grinning.
"Do you ever stop thinking about sex?" Sofie asks with a soft chuckle.
"Sometimes I think about food," Paul replies as they climb out of the cave.
David leaps up the makeshift stone steps but stops to take Star's hand as she struggles behind the rest of them. She flushes a soft petal pink. It's the first moment of tenderness Sofie has seen between them in two weeks.
"I wanna go on rides!" Laddie calls out as Dwayne picks the boy up and hauls him over his shoulder.
"We'll take you on some rides, bud," Marko reassures.
They climb onto their bikes. David looks over at Sofie with a glint in his eye.
"Happy birthday, Sof."
She doesn't have time to say thank you before their engines roar to life and they barrel into the darkness toward their turf.