"Do you ever call me just to chat? Why does it always have to be to complain about something?" Adam said. "It's like you're never in a good mood."
"Please, don't start with me." Esther said. "I know if there's two things you love it's a good bitch session and gossip."
"Hm. whatever." Adam said. "What were you complaining about this time?"
Esther sighed, knowing good and well she was about to be intensely mocked for the next quarter of an hour or so.
"The girl I'm staying with. It's— well— she kissed me a few nights ago and— well, I—"
There was a long stretch of silence over the line, before Adam laughed, loudly and with purpose. Esther felt herself begin to bristle with anger.
"Really? That's what you're upset about? Good God, Esther. I never would have dug you out of the ground if I'd have known you'd spend the next century moping around and being a stick in the mud."
Esther sighed, rubbing her temple as though she had a headache, though there wasn't any pain.
"Remind me why I bother asking you for advice?"
Adam sighed into the phone.
"Listen, as your friend, can I be honest with you?" He said.
"You're going to say whatever it is no matter my answer, so go ahead." Esther said.
"You clearly crave companionship, but you push everyone away. You're punishing yourself, Esther. It's why you're never happy. You constantly seek out these women to feed from, just start to get just close enough to feel like you have a friend, and turn around and disappear."
"I can't exactly be friends with them. They're human. I'll hurt them." Esther argued. "You're just reading too much into it."
"You do it to me too." Adam said. "And I'm a vampire just as much as you."
Esther made a noise of disgust into the phone.
"You're not a better person because you don't want to be." Adam said. "You think your happiness is out of your control, but it's not. You do this to yourself."
"I don't need anyone." She snapped. "I'm fine on my own."
"Then why do you try and find people to live with while you travel? Why not just sleep in alleyways and attack random people who pass by?"
Esther shook her head. "Stop it."
"It's because you do need other people, and you know that." He said.
Esther angrily hung up, her throat burning, though it was from trying not to cry, not hunger like it usually was.
She wished it was only from hunger.
-----------------
The sound of the screen door screeching open and then shut told Esther that AnnMarie was home. She perked up at the sound and watched her carefully as she walked into the living room. AnnMarie always smelled like dead flowers when she came home from work. It was something Esther had gotten used to; the subtle smell of sweet decay that followed her around.
She was carrying a small box under her arm.
"I got a puzzle for us to do." She said holding up the box. It was decorated with the image of a sunny pond with two bright yellow ducks in the water. The image was cheery in a sickeningly artificial way.
"Uh, okay." Esther said. At least it was thoughtful. AnnMarie was attentive to her, if nothing else.
Esther got up, and walked over to take a seat at the kitchen table, and AnnMarie joined her on the other side. She carefully cut open the edges of the box with a small pocket knife, and then let the pieces clatter onto the table.
It was quiet.
Esther watched as she sorted through the pieces, picking out the ones that went around the edges. Everything seemed so loud. The hum of the old wall air conditioning unit in the other room. The throbbing of the vein on AnnMarie's neck.
Esther shifted uncomfortably.
She realized she was thirsty again.
It was easy to ignore when she was alone, but when there was food nearby it was hard to push away the urge to eat.
Not wanting to seem rude, she tried to focus on the puzzle, though she avoided letting her hands touch AnnMarie's at all costs.
The heat coming off of them was more than enough to tempt her.
When she shifted just so, Esther caught her scent once more and a strange thought came to her: what if it's not thirst?
What if I just want to be close to her?
What if it's just attraction?
What if the idea of biting into her the soft skin of her neck is so appealing, because I want my face to be pressed so tightly against the curve of her neck?
Because I want her to wrap her arms around me and clutch me tightly, dig the tips of her fingers into my skin until it's nearly painful?
Esther clutched the piece she held tightly between her fingers, and chewed the inside of her lip.
"Do you sleep every night?"
Esther's attention snapped suddenly back into focus.
"Huh?"
AnnMarie looked back up at her, a corner piece in between her small fingers.
"You're always awake when I get up and when I go to sleep. I was wondering if you ever sleep." She said. "You know, aside from when you're really hungry or hurt."
"Oh uh. Sometimes I can't sleep, if I've fed recently. I feel too energetic. Most of the time I choose not to."
"You don't like to sleep?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Esther sighed.
"For me… it feels like being dead." She said. "My heart stops and when I wake up I feel… so cold. I hate feeling cold. It's not just when I don't feed. It's like that any time I sleep."
AnnMarie frowned in the way that she did whenever Esther would say something that made her feel sad. However, she quickly perked back up.
"You could sleep with me, in my bed. I could keep you warm until you wake up."
Esther breathed in, her chest feeling tight. She was at a loss for words.
"I, uh—" she stuttered out uncertainly. "Thank you. That's nice of you to offer."
AnnMarie smiled, her face was warm and content. Her softly freckled cheeks were flushed pink. Pink with blood.
Esther shook her head and returned her focus back to the puzzle.
As she pieced together the vivid blue pieces that made up the sky, her thoughts started to wonder again.
She thought of how she had pulled Annie against her chest in the bath, and ran her fingers through her damp hair. She wanted to do it again. To comfort her and lull her to sleep against the soft sound of the late night birds singing outside.
Her eyes flickered down to the girl's wrist, still purple and bruised from where she had bitten her much harder than was necessary. It was a self indulgent thing to do.
It was a selfish thing to do.
A feeling a nausea pricked at her stomach.
You're not a better person because you don't want to be.
She felt the need to start a conversation. To get away from her thoughts for a while.
"Hey, Annie?"
AnnMarie looked up from the puzzle.
"Hm?" She said.
"Do you know what's in that room upstairs?"
AnnMarie looked visibly upset at the question, like she usually did when Esther poked too far into her personal life.
"I, I don't know." She said, shaking her head and glancing at the floor. "I've never been in there. In fact, I don't think it's possible to get in without breaking open that wall."
"So you don't have a clue?" Esther pressed.
"No. My mama always told me not to go up there, and I always listened to her on account of how dangerous she made it sound. Even after she passed away I never went poking around up there out of fear."
Esther blinked. Although she had heard AnnMarie mention her mother, she didn't think the girl had ever explicitly mentioned that she was dead until now. There was a way she said it, very empty but even, that made Esther feel a little sad.
"Im sorry. I didn't realize she was… gone." Esther often found herself, ironically, uncomfortable discussing death.
"We weren't close." AnnMarie said, playing absently with one of the corner pieces.
"Oh." Esther said.
"I don't know if she kept me at arms length because of the curse or because she thought of me as an unfortunate consequence. I guess it doesn't matter because I won't ever know." AnnMarie said. "I guess I like to pretend that she loved me the best way she could, even if it wasn't really enough—"
She paused and let out a sound that was sort of like a giggle.
"Sorry— I'm being a real downer right now, huh?"
Esther considered what she said. If even her mother was distant, it was likely she had never genuinely been in a close relationship of any kind. With the exception of her fleeting friendships, all of which had ended tragically, Esther doubted she had any meaningful connection with another person.
Esther frowned, fighting the urge to grab her hand and squeeze it. "Its fine—"
Thankfully, soft knock at the door cut her off before she could do anything too stupid.
AnnMarie went rigid, suddenly shrinking in on herself. Her eyes were wide, wary.
Esther realized that she was scared, and that it was a very genuine sort of fear she saw in her.
The poor girl probably didn't get that many visitors.
"Uh, I'll see who it is?" Esther offered.
Wordlessly, AnnMarie nodded.
Esther got up, and walked over to the front door.
It was Peter, glancing happily around. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, like the muggy air didn't bother him as much as she knew it did.
"Oh hey!" He said. "Can I come in?"
"Uh—" Esther glanced back into the house. "Let me check."
She let the screen door shut, and returned to the table.
"Is it… a friend of yours?" AnnMarie asked pensively.
"...yes."
"Are they a vampire?"
Esther cleared her throat.
"Uh, no. He's alive. His name is—"
"No!" AnnMarie said. "Don't— don't even tell me about them! I don't want to hear anything."
"Oh…" Esther was slightly taken aback by her sudden assertiveness.
"I can't— I can't take any more chances. It's not worth it. If one of your friends was hurt because of me… I couldn't…" she shook her head and sniffled. "I just couldn't."
"It's okay." Esther said quietly. "I'll make it quick, and I won't let you see him."
AnnMarie squeezed her eyes shut, and a couple of tears fell down her cheeks.
It took a moment for Esther to fully understand her reaction.
AnnMarie wanted to meet him. She wanted to have more friends. She wanted to talk to the people she met and get to know them.
But she couldn't.
Esther knew she felt like everything she wanted was being dangled in front of her, mocking her, and it was causing her pain.
Watching her cry caused Esther pain too.