I knew I was dreaming the moment my eyes opened up again, and I found myself sitting on the bed in my room. Everything was kind of white and foggy at the edges, fading out of view when I tried to look through my peripherals. My floor as a mess, with all my belongings scattered about, randomly shoved into piles, and my clothing emptied from my closet. My bed was the only thing in the room that wasn’t covered in all my stuff.
For having felt almost dead tired just moments ago, I felt oddly energetic now. I wanted to run around, screaming like a little girl, shoving my face full of candy, or just tasty food. Looking myself over, I noticed that all of my injuries were gone. There was no pain, just a sense of being very much alive and well. Another sign that I was dreaming.
The heater over in the corner that I always ignored, or forgot about, was crackling merrily as it burned the wood chips that had been put inside its’ chambers. There was enough that the room was almost uncomfortably warm. It bothered me.
I was alone. From what I could tell, there were no other signs of life about me. Before, that would not have bothered me. I would have found something to do that would occupy my time, sleep, make food, read...but now, the absence of other life made me feel empty. Though perhaps I had always felt that way, I just hadn’t noticed it before.
My right hand was wrapped up in the fabric that kept me from straining it, and my leg was similarly ensconced by wraps. Hadn’t those been taken off already? I couldn’t remember. I wasn’t able to think too clearly, anything critical or deep was just beyond my reach. Simple things. Simple thoughts.
The door opened, revealing a familiar smiling face. “Hey,” Adrian greeted, stepping inside, nimbly stepping over my belongings and over to me, “how’re you feeling?” He asked, taking a seat next to me.
It was familiar, comforting.
“Funky.” I replied, hugging him. “I feel like I’m dreaming.” I said, resting my head on his chest. Mmm, man pillow.
He chuckled, stroking my hair affectionately. “Because you are dreaming, sweetheart.” His hands felt cold, in comparison to the temperature of everything else.
This wasn’t going to turn into some kind of Inception thing, was it? And why did he keep calling me sweetheart?!
Still, it was nice, just lying there. “Then why are you here?” I asked him, peering up at him curiously. He usually only featured in my steamier dreams, not something casual where I was only resting in his arms. “And why are we in my room?” Why not somewhere else more exciting?
“Am I not supposed to be?” He teased, tickling my sides, making me giggle uncontrollably. “It’s your dream after all. I’m not the one who’s sleeping.” What was that supposed to mean?!
Was he only here because I wanted him to be? “I-I don’t know…” I trailed off, becoming lost in thought.
While I preoccupied myself with trying to think philosophically and failing, Adrian slid from the bed, going through my things; organizing them, putting them where they all belonged, occasionally holding something up to get a better look at it. He’d gotten through a third of my floor before I snapped out of my stupor.
I stared at him, bemused. “What are you doing?” He looked like he was cleaning up my room, but why?
He smiled, tossing a pillow that had been buried underneath my shirts at me. “Cleaning up. Messy minds have messy rooms.” He said, finishing the corner and moving on to the next set of things. “You’re not very organized, are you?”
Did it matter if I was? “So what if I’m not organized? I can find everything.” Most of the time…
“If you could find everything, I wouldn’t have to help you clean up so you could find what you were looking for.” His enchanting blue eyes twinkled mischievously as he spoke, as if he knew something I didn’t.
What was he talking about? I wasn’t looking for anything. I had everything I wanted right in front of me. “And what am I looking for that I don’t know about?” I felt like we were playing some sort of game; that I’d forgotten something important.
Thinking about it made my head hurt.
Another mysterious smile. “You’ll know once you find it.” He said, coming over to me and grabbing my hand. “Come on, help me clean.”
“Why?” I asked him, puzzled, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “Everything I want is right here in front of my eyes, in front of me. I don’t need to search for it.” I knew what I wanted. I wanted to take the path lying beneath my feet, and follow it where ever it led, with the person standing in front of me; even if he was an asshole who annoyed the ever-loving crap out of me.
Night sky blue eyes widened a fraction in surprise as Adrian tugged me forward, one arm wrapping snugly around my waist as the hand that had pulled me to him moved to my shoulder. “Good,” He pressed his lips to my forehead, “you figured it out.” He murmured, swaying back and forth in a pseudo-dance, me following his wobbling idly, tapping my fingers on his shoulders.
If that was a good thing, then it was a very sad feeling good thing. “You don’t sound happy about it.” I replied, letting him drag me along with him, watching his face, curious to see what he was thinking about.
“Because it means you can go to sleep now.” He sighed, planting another kiss on the top of my head, smoothing my hair back and taking his hand to tilt my chin up. “Promise me something?” He sounded almost as if he were pleading with me, begging.
“What?” He was acting really weird… “So long as it’s not anything stupid.” I grumbled, eyes shifting away from his puppy dog expression. He’d started it when I’d asked him what, and it was starting to get to me.
He lit up, eyes beaming, a little boy on Christmas. “Don’t hate me for what I’m about to do, okay?” He said, nodding. Then his expression turned solemn, serious. “I love you.”
What would I hate him for? “I love you too. Now what are you talking about?” I was starting to get kind of creeped out by his behavior.
“This.” Was my only answer as he pressed his lips to mine, stealing a kiss.
Why would I get mad at him for kissing me? I wondered as I kissed him back, letting my hands wander up and tangle my fingers into his hair, drawing him closer. Miiiiiiiiiiiint. Someday, I’d have to get him to tell me what toothpaste or mouthwash he used. It was the only way to explain why he was so addicting when he did stuff like this.
When his hand slid from my waist to cup my breast, I moaned and he used to opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. Everything went kind of fuzzy after that. I gave up on trying to keep my eyes open and closed them as I lost myself, letting him do as he wanted.
Which apparently was having his hand go through my chest, and enveloping his fingers around my heart. The action immediately set my nerves on fire, screaming as they burned in pain. A strangled cry escaped my throat, muffled by the contact of our mouths. My hands clenched into fists as the use of my limbs fled me faster than I could try to push him away from me. My muscles turned into immobile blocks of glacial ice, frozen solid by the unexpectedness of the situation, and the sensation of the throbbing muscle in my chest being torn from its’ fragile home.
Bile rose in my throat as I tried desperately to get any part of me to move. Why was he doing this?! Panic flared through my veins, cold as the arctic ice that consumed the rest of my being. Had this been what he’d been after the whole time? My heart?
A moment passed and he pulled away, a bloody pulsing mass in his hand that beat furiously in his palm, a dark red gash running right across it. How had that happened?! Seeing my frightened expression, Adrian hefted me back over to my bed, setting my head down on my pillows. “In my haste to finish the battle with my father, I let him stab my heart. It has to be torn out for any permanent damage to be done, so I knew I’d heal…” He trailed off, his eyes darkening with regret. “but in my rush to end it, I forgot that we were still physically bound, and your human heart is much more fragile than mine. An injury like this won’t heal on its’ own.” He shook his head rapidly, as if to clear away any disturbing thoughts. “Your heart’s become useless, really.” He added lightly.
Would killing him be considered a hate crime? How mean he was, to joke about a maiden’s heart like that!
“It’s a shame that it’s become this defunct hunk of meat. It’s completely useless to you now. You wouldn’t be able to do anything with it.” His words were detached, lighthearted, and mocking, meant to be insulting.
Need...bowie...knife…
A roguish smirk danced upon his lips as he bent down to my ear, nipping the lobe. “Though I seem to have a nasty little habit of stealing useless things away.” He whispered, breath warm on my skin. “Since I can’t have you dying on me, how about I give you my heart? I have no need for mine; it won’t beat for me anymore.” That...sounded kind of disturbing….romantic...but disturbing.
How would that even work?! I wanted to yell at him, but my jaw was frozen shut. I couldn’t even glare at him because my muscles refused to move, like I’d had a Botox injection. I was able to stare at him and...nothing else. Geez, I’m pathetic. What kind of twisted dream was this?
“Close your eyes Kathryne, I’ll take care of the rest.” His gaze softened, turning my insides to a warm gooey mush.
When had I become so bipolar? I wasn’t supposed to get so mad at him and then forgive him all within the span of three minutes! Where had my stubbornness, and ability to hold a grudge gone?!
I didn’t close my eyes. Instead, I glared at him, my muscles finally having begun to function again. I ached all over, a lack of a heart in my chest quickly taking its’ toll on me. “No.” I rasped angrily, forcing air into my lungs so I could yell at him properly.
But Adrian wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t take advantage of my brief moment of weakness to seduce me. Laughing softly, he placed a hand over my eyes, effectively blinding me. “Go to sleep, Princess, everything’s going to be all right.” He said, kissing me again.
Against my will, I started relaxing, my eyelids fluttering shut, lashes tickling his palm as my breathing evened out and everything went blank.
Almost immediately I became aware of a crushing weight on my chest, like I’d been set over railroad tracks and flattened by a runaway train. I was lying flat on my back, eyes glued shut as I tried to figure out just what the hell was going on. The first thing I noticed was that there were feet shuffling around in all directions, or at least, that’s what it sounded like. There were voices, but their words were warped and muffled, coming from far away.
So I had thought until I felt a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. Damn I wanted to open my eyes. Why couldn’t I bring myself to see anything? It wasn’t as if my eyes had been superglued or anything. The only thing that should have been holding me back, was myself. So what was it that I was so determined not to see?
My head was swimming, dizzy and tired, like I had run a marathon and collapsed at the end. Muscles that I didn’t know I had were aching, sending all sorts of tingly pins and needles across and over my skin. I must have been sleeping for quite a while already, to be in a bed instead of the forest I’d been in before.
Where was I?
“She’s awake, Gio.” The first thing I hear clearly, and it’s my uncle’s voice, talking to Gio…
Oh dear lord, not the doctor guy.
“No, really? I just thought she was twitching in her sleep.” Came Doc. Giovanni’s sarcastic drawl. “That sedative wore off faster than I thought it would. I expected her to be out for a little longer.”
Sedative? That explained a little bit, I think. But why was Giovanni around at all?
“Considering her unruly nature, I highly doubt any sedative would keep her under for as long as it’s supposed to.” Eric said, chuckling. “When has she ever listened to anyone telling her what to do?”
How was it fair for them to trash talk me while I couldn’t say anything back? When I got my mouth working again, I was going to give them a piece of my mind!
Wait...where was Adrian? Why wasn’t he here, talking, and being a generic jerk? He was always there to bug me when I woke up, or shortly after. So why wasn’t he around now? Was he recovering too?
Giovanni sighed, and the sound of him shuffling through some drawers reached my ears. “What are you going to tell her?” He asked wearily, another huff escaping. “She’s not going to take it well, you know.”
Yes, have a conversation where you know I’m awake, and can probably here you, about something I’m not going to like. Way to go, doc.
“I’ll tell her the truth. Adrian’s rash, impulsive actions nearly killed her.” Just keep talking…
“I doubt he would have been able to win any other way.” Giovanni replied. “Though I do agree with you. Getting himself stabbed in the heart was going a bit too far.”
OK, so he’d gotten stabbed. I knew that already; I’d felt it when it’d happened. Why were they making such a big deal out of it? Nearly dying wasn’t the same as dying. I was still here, alive after all. I was still breathing.
“If he were still alive, Kathryne would certainly kill him.” My uncle said. “She hates when others sacrifice something for her own sake.” Damn right I did. What was the point in giving something up for someone else when they wanted you as you were?
Hold on...that idiotic, pompous, arrogant, selfish, oddball, condescending, pretentious asshat, had died?! How?! Even if a wound like the one he’d obtained was fatal to me, it shouldn’t have been to him! Just how in the world had he managed to get himself killed?
“I’m surprised he even figured out how to do it properly. It isn’t as if you can just go around, giving humans’ vampire parts. Doing a transplant the normal way would result in instantaneous rejection of the organ. Giving her his heart was a risky move. Had he screwed up, they would both be dead.”
It occurred to me, in that moment when I wished my body were shaking with rage, that the dream I had woken up from earlier, hadn’t just been a random dream that I could disregard and cast aside to the depths of the mind where everything could be forgotten. I’d definitely been dreaming, I knew that much. Had I been dreaming about what had actually happened while I was sleeping?
I didn’t really have much of a reason to want to kill Adrian if that was the case. He hadn’t exactly been all knight in shining armor when he’d torn my heart from my chest. He’d been kind of sarcastic the whole time. I still wanted to stab him for it, because it’d hurt like freaking hell, but I wasn’t going to kill him for it. Tear his head off, maybe.
“Yet Kathryne is still alive, and now has to deal with the fact that there is a heart that is not her own beating in her chest.”
Hah, as if that were a big deal. I’d deal with it. It wasn’t like the thing was actively trying to kill me or anything. So long as I wasn’t going to die, what was the problem?
Well, besides Adrian having died. That was a problem. I wasn’t too sure about how I was going to deal with that. The one person who had managed to make me enjoy the company of other people wasn’t going to be there to force me to smile and make new friends anymore. Though granted, I had only met two new people, Damon and Claire.
Ah, the rest of high school was going to be a real bitch with him gone. Now I wouldn’t be able to stalk him for company. I’d have to go back to doing what I’d been doing before I’d met him. There were probably some new books in the library I hadn’t read before, and the tree in the quad was likely getting lonely.
Stuck in a bed as I was, reality hadn’t quite set in yet.
Roughly two weeks later, I was holed up in my room with another book in my hands. I’d been given independent study for the rest of the year, courtesy of the lawyer whom I lived with convincing the school staff that I should be allowed to study privately. I’d already completed the work they’d given me for the month; I’d had nothing better to do with my time. Now I was trying to occupy myself with something, anything to keep me from dwelling on what had happened.
I had no right to fall into a deep depression. Sure, I loved him, but I’d just figured out my feelings. Getting all depressed and mopey wouldn’t bring Adrian back. Better to try to move on with my life.
The only problem with my refusal to cry was that my eyes refused to agree with me. I didn’t want to grieve, yet the tears came out anyway. I was tired all the time, apathetic and lethargic. I had no desire to go out and do anything. I had to force myself to keep going, to get out of bed in the morning. I didn’t want to; I wanted to lay there and dream all day.
It didn’t matter to me what I wanted to do anymore. The fact was that I was alive, and that someone else had given their life so that I might not fall into the cold clutches of death. I didn’t know whether to be grateful or frustrated, so I settled for a little bit of both. I was frustrated that Adrian had died so that I wouldn’t. Did no-one have the decency to ask for permission anymore?! Geez! Maybe I’d wanted to die!
I hadn’t, and I didn’t want to die, but if he’d asked first, I might not be feeling so conflicted.
Tossing my book aside, I jumped out of my bed and went downstairs. Claire had decided to stay behind for a while longer to keep an eye on me. I was glad that she did. I sorely needed the company. Talking with her kept me from going stir crazy.
She was in the kitchen, which had been repaired since her accident a few weeks ago thank God. Eric had banned her from using the appliances ever again, so if she made anything, it was a sandwich. She was sitting at the table, eating a peanut butter sandwich while my uncle was cooking something on the stove, a white chef’s hat on his messy head.
Taking a seat next to her, I toyed with the bowl of rocks that was the centerpiece of the dining room set. “I need something to do. I’m going nuts.” I said, rubbing my temples with a sigh. “I’m tired of reading books over and over again.” I’d read Hamlet over twenty times now.
“You can help out around the office; the cabinets need organizing again.” Eric piped up, waving a wooden spoon at me.
Ah, yes. The office. Unlike the popular comedy on television, my uncle’s office was fairly dull unless there was a client around. He always had files that needed organizing, a product of his poor planning, and his habit of taking things out and forgetting to put them back again. It always took hours to get everything put back where it belonged again.
Not something I wanted to do really. The task was mind numbing, and didn’t require much thinking, giving one plenty of time to let the mind wander. Something I didn’t need right then. “Got anything that requires actual problem solving?” My thoughts were not my friends.
Claire set her sandwich aside for a moment, looking at me with a frown. “You could help me pack if you’d like. I suck at fitting everything into one suitcase.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked, surprised. I’d thought she’d be staying longer. Ah well. I couldn’t ask someone to put their life on hold just because I was upset.
She nodded, an apologetic smile faintly touching her lips. “I have my own business to attend to, I’m afraid. I have to return home in a few days. Things have become rather busy as of late. I’m going to help Damon deal with the workload.” She replied sincerely.
I couldn’t help how dirty that sounded in my head. I really couldn’t. I was a pervert by nature, even if I hadn’t been obvious about it. If I weren’t a perv, I wouldn’t have been drooling over Mr. Sexy, now would I? “Sure. I’ll help you. Though I can’t say that I’m much better at packing a suitcase either.” Would origami work on clothing? We could turn her T-shirts into paper dragons. Somehow, those would fit into a suitcase. I just knew it.
“All right. It’s a deal then.” She giggled, returning to her sandwich.
I couldn’t help but smile. Sure, I was hurting, and the one person I’d let myself rely on managed to land himself six feet under. It was sad, and I hated to think about it, but without Adrian, I wouldn’t have been nearly as happy as I had been over the past half year. I couldn’t lock everything away anymore; I wasn’t the only one who was sad that he was gone. Other people were hurting too.
I’d keep living just to spite his sorry ass. If there was such a thing as an afterlife, and that idiot was watching me, I’d show him just what he was missing out on. If there wasn’t, I’d do it to annoy the hell out of my uncle.
Now if only I convince the rest of me to stop feeling like crap. Why didn’t my internal pep talks ever work properly? Damn it.
The only thing I knew for certain was that I wouldn’t regret anything about what had happened. Except for the falling in love part; that had been a terrible idea.
What? Oh don’t look at me like that, all incredulous and smirking. Loving the guy was a stupid move on my end. He’d gone and died on me and now I had no-one to cuddle with at night! How was I supposed to sleep without his death-grip on my hand? He could have at least had the decency to give me something to snuggle with before kicking the bucket!
...I missed him, too much for me to be comfortable with the feeling. I wanted to scream, kick, bite, or punch something, but I wouldn’t. More like couldn’t. Even if I had a new heart, I still had to recover from the damage that wasn’t a new organ. I wasn’t supposed to be overexerting myself unless I wanted to be carted to the hospital again.
Fortunately, I was almost completely healed, and could walk around without tearing anything open. That was good, because I’d taken to pacing when I had nothing else to keep myself busy.
Maybe I should get a yearbook. I wasn’t going to get one originally, but I didn’t have any pictures of Adrian either. If the crappy school picture was the only one I could get, then damn it I’d pay the hundred and twenty bucks for the blasted thing. It’d be worth it.
Eh, Eric had probably taken a picture or two of him at some point. I’d just bug him about it later. No need to get all sentimental about a school I didn’t care for. Adrian’s photo wasn’t worth the twenty or so pictures of Sarah and her buddies.
“Kathryne, you’re staring at the table and drooling. Are you okay?” Claire asked, staring at me with a worried expression on her face,
Blinking, I quickly shook my head to clear it of the weird thoughts that had suddenly occupied it. “Ah, yeah. I’m fine…” I replied, grimacing slightly. “I think I’m becoming obsessed though. That can’t be healthy.” I’d just considered making a scrapbook out of the pictures from the year.
There was no way I was going to do something like that. It was a bit too creepy stalker-ish for my liking. No doubt I’d use the weirdest pictures for it too. Ugh. I wasn’t good at composing music either. Neither did poetry appeal to me.
Since I like to read books so much, maybe I’ll write about what happened instead? I hear it's supposed to be cathartic or something.