PLAY THE SONG ABOVE. HAPPY READING.
How can I say this without breaking?
How can I say thing without taking over?
How can I put it down into words
when it's too much for my soul alone?
Hurts Like Hell, Fleurie
37 - Portrait
For some reason, I woke up in the infirmary in Luci's lab.
Max was in his wheelchair beside my bed, solving Alex's Rubik's cube. It didn't take a minute before he threw it on his lap with a groan.
Finally, he noticed me watching him. "Rise and shine, Aramis Rayne. Didn't you promise to take me to the beach?"
I pushed myself to a sitting position, looking around. "What happened? Did the Offering work?"
"Beats me." He shrugged and pushed himself closer. "Belial brought you here. Said you fainted during the Offering. Boy, I'd pay good money just to see Eldest! Luci tells me that he is actually a she. Is it true?"
"I'm..." I got distracted when the door opened. "not sure."
Alex, Hector and Belial came in, all of them giving me weird looks. I shifted to the edge of the bed and searched the floor for my boots.
"H-how are you feeling, Aramis?" asked Alexis, throwing Hector a furtive look.
I tried to read their expressions, only to fail. "Fine... I guess."
Belial went to me and pushed me back down on the bed. "You oughta get some rest, Hun. The Offering's taken a toll on ya."
I held the woman's wrists. "How bad?"
Only Hector seemed to had the heart to answer. "Right now, your soul is very fragile. If you use your scythe even once, it will shatter and you will perish."
I wasn't surprised. Alex had warned me that Hector's quick fix was only temporary. I, myself could feel the effects wearing off.
"It's back to the tanks then?" I said.
Alexis sighed. "We already tried that, Aramis. But your soul isn't responding to ectoplasmic infusion like it used to."
The air in the room suddenly turned heavy. The grim silence was even more unbearable.
"How long?" I asked, jumping off the bed to fish my boots from under it. When I didn't get an answer, I busied myself putting them on. "How long do I have?"
My question seemed to have baffled them. No one said a word for a minute.
In the end, Belial managed to speak. "Not long... But, maybe, if you take it easy and stay--"
I stood up, flattening the creases of my dress. "I'm not spending the rest of my life in a hospital."
Managing a casual facade, I went behind Max and began to wheel him toward the door. Max looked tentatively at me before reaching for the door knob and turning it. I stared at the floor for a few seconds and said, "Don't tell Vincent," without sparing a backwards glance.
To my dismay, I found Vincent in the hallway, hands on his knees and out of breath. His eyes widened when he saw me.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Alex fidgeting with his fingers. "About that; I sort of already told him."
Touche.
"Where do you think you're going?" Vincent raised a brow.
"Is lunch ready?" I asked, managing to sound as casual as possible. "I'm starving."
Vincent abruptly snatched my hand and dragged me out the laboratory and across the yard. As we went down the steps to the forest surrounding the lab, I had to quicken my steps to match his long strides. It wasn't until the building was out of sight did he let me go.
He spent the next minute breathing in and out, he eyes fixed on me. I braced myself for his anger.
"I thought something bad had happened to you," he said, his voice weak.
I blinked. "Why would you think that?"
"You weren't there when I woke up. A-and there was--" He stepped back to give me a long once over, pausing in deep thought. Eventually, his gaze fell on the ground, his ears red. "Oh..."
I knotted my brows. "Oh?"
He swallowed. "Nevermind."
After letting out a frustrated sigh, I spotted a large log and flopped on it. Vincent's face was unreadable as he sat at the other end of the log. I scooted closer to him. His knee twitched when I accidentally brushed against it.
I watched the sun's rays pass through the tiny gaps between the lush branches that canopied the whole forest. The smell of fresh grass and flowers overwhelmed my senses. Without much thought, I slowly leaned my head over Vincent's shoulder.
He cleared his throat. "I'll find you a cure, A. We'll get through this. I swear."
"I'm fine," I murmured, closing my eyes. "I'll be fine."
He didn't say another word. He just slipped his fingers in between mine, smiling as he watched our hands fit together perfectly. And we sat there for a really long time, momentarily forgetting our worries.
"I wish time would stop now," I mumbled, shifting my head over his shoulder.
"I wish I could grant your every wish," he told me.
"Really?"
He sighed, "Really."
"You might regret it," I challenged him. "I want a lot of things."
"Tell me anything you want," he said, sounding pleased with himself.
"I... want everything," I murmured in the hope that he wouldn't hear the melancholy in my voice. "But someone told me that I can't have everything."
He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. "Who did?! Didn't that bastard know who your master is? It's Vincent. Freaking. Sinclair! You ought to know by now, there's nothin' I can't do."
I couldn't help but laugh. If Vincent knew who I was talking about, he would think twice of calling him a bastard. Or probably not.
"Then, I wish for Vincent Sinclair to always be happy, for eternity."
It took him a while to answer "I'm happy now."
"Really?"
"Really."
I gave his hand a squeeze and he squeezed it back.
Finally, I lifted my head. A smile involuntarily pulled my lips up. I hoisted myself from my seat and pulled his head down so that I could kiss him. It was quick and a different one at that. It felt like seeing the sun set for the first time. You hold your breath, your chest swells with excitement and you hope it lasts longer, but it doesn't. So you wait. You wait patiently for the next one. Because it's worth waiting for.
"So this is how it is..." I said.
Vincent blinked twice and threw me a quizzical look.
"Living," I laughed to myself. "I'm living now."
He couldn't have looked more confused. And flushed.
"I almost forgot," I got to my feet and pulled him up. "I have to take Max to the beach!"
***
Max was silent as we took the descending cobble-stoned path to the beach. It was a very long walk, and an ample amount of time to waste on thinking. I tried to mull over my predicament, but my mind stayed blank.
No what ifs. No whys. Nothing.
"We're here," I heard Max say.
With my train of thought disrupted, I was finally able to pay attention to our surroundings. We were almost at the beach.
I turned the wheelchair to the grassy parts so it wouldn't get stuck in the sand. When we were close enough, I stepped on the lock and sat on the sand.
Taking a deep breath, I watched the waves lap on the beach. The sun glared over our heads, making every ripple glitter. I closed my eyes and felt the warm, salty breeze blow against my skin.
"You're weird, Aramis Rayne," Max said all of a sudden.
I saw him looking at me, but a shrug was all I could give him.
"You're dying," he went on. "And you don't seem the littlest bit worried."
"It's ironic, really," I answered, laughing a little. "Since becoming an immortal, all I ever thought about was death. Someone's always out to kill me. I was always in the brink of dying, waiting, guessing when it will happen and how. Now, I have the answer. Somehow, I'm... relieved."
He opened his mouth, hesitated and instead, fixed his gaze on the breathtaking view. Letting out a deep, shaky breath, he placed a hand over my head. "What if... What if you don't have to die anymore?"
Averting my gaze, I prevented myself from entertaining the thought. Still, his words had managed to stir what tiny bit of hope remained in me.
"What if... you just stay here? Think about it, Aramis. You'll never have to fight and risk your life again. I'm sure, Hector will discover some sort of miracle cure for you soon. He's obssessed that way. You'll survive this."
I looked up at him with a smile. "I don't want to survive. I want to live."
Soon enough, the others arrived. As they did, Belial and Luci set down the blankets on the sand. Mei and Amyr carried baskets of food. The other familiars started on making makeshift tents.
I saw Byron Flynn with girl. She had wild long sandy hair, these big yellow eyes and two slanted gray marks on her left cheek.
She followed Byron Flynn everywhere he went, picking up the sticks that kept falling from the bundle of firewood he was carrying. Then she used those to poke him on the back. He usually ignored it, but once, I saw him baring his teeth at her and she jumped back, hissing.
I looked at Max. "Is that... Antoinette?"
"What gave it away? The tail?" He grinned, trailing into a momentary silence. "Everyone seems really happy here. Even the Elementals. Sometimes, I think I could get used to this. You know, without all the job hazards and whatnot. Not having to watch your back every two seconds. It's just"--he took a deep breath--"bliss."
When Vincent and I first came to Halja, that was what I thought too. Clearly, it wasn't my choice to make now.
"Zup, chairman!" Amyr clapped Max on the back before sitting next to me. "Get it? Chairman? 'Cause he's the man on a rolling chair?"
Max rolled his eyes. "Ha-ha."
Amyr made a face. "Should I call you Professor X, then?"
"If, by some merciless turn of fate, I turn bald, I guess you could."
"It won't be long now, mate." It was Hector. His eyes were more bloodshot and scarier than normal with those purplish rings around them. "It won't be long and you'll lose your hair and wither and die like the rest of us. I feel like I'm starting to have the wrinkles. And look. What are we doing about it? We're having a bloody picnic!"
Halfway through the preparations, Amyr groaned about being bored. All of a sudden, he went to Mei, slung her over his shoulder and threw her in the water. Before Mei could scream angrily at Amyr, Masters and familiars got in the water. It was mayhem after that. They played this game where they catapult someone on the water. The group who throws that someone the farthest wins. No one ended up crying so far, but I felt sorry for the poor ones who got thrown. Usually, it was the small ones, namely Vlad, Yuki and Mei. They tried to hurl Antoinette once, but Amyr ended up with claw marks on his face.
"I wouldn't go that far!" Levi called when the players had passed the hundred yard line from the shore. It was strange seeing the guy without his armor. "Zaebos will eat you! But you're all fearless little boys and girls, are you not?"
Everyone scrambled back on the beach on that note.
Levi smiled to himself. "Didn't think so."
"Yeah," I whispered, watching my cabal, my friends, my family smile and laugh and live. "Bliss..."
Vincent and Sathariel arrived last. They were both carrying canvases and easels. Alexis was behind them with a large suitcase.
Vincent dropped the stuff he was carrying in front of me.
"There," he groaned, obviously annoyed. "Wish granted."
"Thank you," I said, smiling up at him.
He slumped right next to me, stretching his arms as he did. "What the hell did you make us bring all this stuff here for?"
I nudged him playfully. "You said you can do anything. Why are you complaining now?"
"I never said I won't complain about it," he scoffed, laying flat on his back on the sand. "So, what's the next wish?"
I stared at the sand, keeping my breathing even. Then I rose to my feet, smiled my best smile and looked at him over my shoulder. "Paint me a portrait."
He scooted up and met my gaze, the gap between his brows creasing. For some reason, his face lost all color. "W-what?"
Instantly, the light chatter, the occasional laughter and shouts were gone. It seemed like everyone had stopped whatever they were doing to look at us. For a few long seconds, all I could hear were the sound of the waves lapping on the shore.
"A portrait, Vincent. I want a portrait."
***
Vincent didn't say a single word since we left the others to find a 'good spot' as his background for my portrait. None of them said anything, too, but I could tell with the looks they had given me that they knew what this meant.
When we arrived at the end of the beach, Vincent stopped. There were lots of trees sprawled over the cliff face, making for a shady spot. From here, I could see the semi-circular row of stacks repeatedly hit by the waves. They looked like towers, sentinels guarding the whole island. They must have been there for thousands of years, yet they still refused to fall down.
"This spot is perfect," I told Vincent, smiling at the breathtaking scene before us.
Wordlessly, he left the painting materials near a large rock and spreaded a blue blanket on the sand. He gestured for me to sit down there, which I did. Then he went back towards the rock. For half a minute, he sat there looking at me before he grudgingly stood the easel and propped the canvas on it.
I watched him open the suitcase, deliberately pick the brushes, mix the colors on his palette. I tried to burn into my memory that dark, brooding expression, the way he looked at me from beneath his lashes, the strange glint of his eyes whenever they caught the light.
Suddenly, my eyes started to water. I blinked it away, though, I doubted he would notice it from this distance.
As he started to sketch, I felt very conscious and began fidgeting with my clothes.
With a sigh, he put down the charcoal.
A nervous laugh escaped me. "I... don't really know what I'm doing."
He walked over and knelt in front of me. Carefully, he folded my legs so that I was sitting a little to the side. I tried to search his gaze as he arranged the skirt of my dress, as he removed my scrunchie to let my hair down, as he held my chin up. But he avoided my eyes. All I saw was this blank facade that made my heart sink.
"I thought you said you're going to be brave, Vincent."
He dropped his hands to his side. "Not that brave."
Then, he took the heavy steps back to his easel. I tried to smile as he continued sketching. His face was so serious, so intent it was a treat watching him.
"Back in the mansion, there's a room," I said, still not breaking the smile. "In that room, there are hundreds of paintings."
His hand stopped moving, his eyes locked on the canvas. By the way his shoulders rose and fell rapidly, I could tell that he was beginning to lose the composure he so struggled to keep on.
"You painted those, didn't you?" I wasn't really hoping for an answer so I went on. "Rosario said, you believe that if you paint a person, a part of that person's soul stays in the painting."
He dropped the charcoal he was holding. His hands were shaking. In fact, his whole body was shaking.
"D-don't make me do this," he pleaded, staring at the ground. "You can't make me do this..."
Just seeing him like that broke my heart in every way possible. He knew what was going to happen to me, but he kept ignoring it. All this time, he was the one who believed there was hope for me. But, now, I wanted him to stop ignoring the truth and face reality.
Perhaps, things would have been easier if I had just crossed over from the beginning. Before everything became complicated. Before I and my death could mean anything to him.
"You have to, Vincent. Y-you can do it."
"I can't..." His voice finally broke. "I can't lose you."
As a tear rolled down his cheek, I all but wanted to run to him, embrace him, tell him it's going to be alright. But that would be a lie, so I stopped myself. I wanted so much to hold his hand it hurt.
I wasn't the only one who was hurting, though. And he had to realize that. I let him find the pain inside him and feel it. He had to feel it until it gets used to it and it couldn't hurt him anymore. And, hopefully, when the pain runs out, he wouldn't have to carry it with him.
I let him take his time. I let him grieve. I didn't console him. I knew he can make it on his own. I believed in him.
Finally, Vincent picked up the piece of charcoal on the sand and looked expectantly at me.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wiped the tears from my eyes and plastered a picture-perfect smile on my face. "Whenever you're ready."
:,)v4