The knock at the door turns out to be William. My face instantly twists into anger. This is not what I need right now.
"What the hell are you doing here, Will?" I snap at him. His eyes are lusty and considering how I feed these days, I'm surprisingly uncomfortable at the expression on his face.
"I couldn't stay away from you, I had to see you, I have something to tell you," he says like it answers my question. It doesn't.
"I think the look in your eyes tells me all I need to know. Get out of here." I try to close the door on him, but he puts his hand out, stopping him. I don't really want to break my front door right now, so I grit my teeth and glare at him through the gap. "What?"
"Do you love me? Do you trust me? Before I tell you, I need you to know I love you, I trust you, this isn't some pity thing, I wouldn't ask otherwise!" I'm under no impression this is a pity thing. I'm under the impression this is a lust thing.
"You look at me the same way all those disgusting human men look at me, Will. It's not pity, it's lust. Get out." I snarl.
"But I'm not human, I can see past the spell you have, though it affects me the same way, do you not love me then?" I swear at him loudly, loud enough for a passer-by to look at us oddly. We ignore the curious human, too busy trying to get through to each other.
"Of course I still love you, but you chose the circus over me. I have to move on, if that's the choice you're sticking to." I hide the pain in my voice. I don't want to move on, but I can't cope with the circus.
"I...I don't know" he brushes his hand through his hair. I see the anguish in his expression and his normal bravado has dropped, leaving just him, just the Will I had fallen for. God, don't do that to me.
"You don't know? Fine. Whatever. Just say what you came here to say and bugger off." It feels like our positions have reversed; I'm the one putting on a front, a facade of some kind, and he's the vulnerable one for once. I like this role reversal, and intend to enjoy it for as long as possible.
"I was banished from the circus for a year, but I can feel change, I think this is the last time I will ever see that place," he looks at me in despair, "my whole life is going, and I feel lost, I was going to ask if I can stay here, but clearly I am no longer wanted..." Curse you, William. I swear at him again and I begin to tell him where to go. But I can't. I hang my head so my hair half covers my face, defeated, and let him in.
"Why were you banished?" I ask, gesturing to the sofa. He sits down heavily and watches intently as I take a seat in the arm chair opposite him. Though there's a coffee table between us and a good deal of floor space, I don't feel at all comfortable with him here while I'm still in my stupid silk pyjamas and still craving the sensation of draining a human. But I'm as good an actor as he is. I don't let that show.
"You remember Enrique? What a jerk he was, well he is Emily's left hand man, and he told her I fed from and killed a child." I feel one of my eyebrows lift. Is this to get my sympathy vote? To be honest, I don't think I would care much if he had killed a human kid. I know that sounds harsh, but I know how it feels, to be that thirsty that you would feed off anyone.
"But they let you come back." I say.
"No it was to come in effect at the end of my stay, but something doesn't feel right. I was born into that circus, they are my family. You know my parents left me there when I was little. And when I became older, stronger, they made me a vampire, Emily did it herself!" He clenched his fist, "how could she do this to me? Argh!" he finishes with a frustrated growl and I don't know what to say.
"Vampires are not loyal creatures." I point out quietly.
"We were, or at least I thought we were. God I'm so naive, so stupid," his eyes had lost their lusty shine, and he looked at me deeply, like he was looking into my soul. Or would be, if I had a soul. "I'm so sorry I hurt you," he reaches across the coffee table and grabs my hand, "you don't know how much..." I pull out of his grasp. I can't deal with this.
"I can't do this, Will." I say, fighting back another surge of tears. "Please go,"
"Sorry," he gets up off the sofa and begins to leave, pausing at the door, "I shouldn't have come here," in one quick moment he leaves as if he had never been here and I'm left to break down into tears all over again. I want him back. I want him back so bad, but I can't cope with the hurt that I'd be facing if he chose something else over me again. He'd done it once. Who's to say he wouldn't again?