I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help myself. The absurdity of the situation was just too much. I stopped, waiting for his chuckle, for him to tell me what I already knew: that it was a joke.
Instead, he just looked very hurt. I could see the pain in his eyes as he looked away. He frowned.
‘It’s not funny.’ He sounded hollow, as if lacking defensiveness. He looked and sounded very vulnerable. It made me feel uncomfortable.
“You were joking, right?”
‘Sure. Declarations of love should never be taken seriously,’ he thought bitterly.
“Oh, you weren’t.”
I instantly felt cruel. Guilt washed over me, overwhelming my senses like a tidal wave.
“Listen, I’m sorry. It just seemed so... ridiculous...” I trailed off, wincing.
‘Because love is a joke, isn’t it? Ha, ha, let’s all just make fun of those losers who are weak enough to love.’ His tone was like a dagger, piercing my heart.
‘Why did I even come here? I knew love could be unrequited (though I didn’t plan on being hurt this much). I guess I hoped for the opposite, though.’
He sighed. ‘I should be off. There’s nothing left for me here, except pain.’
He stood up. Startled, I cried, “Wait!”
What? You want me to make you forget me? That would be easier, I suppose.
“No!”But he was sitting down again, leaning towards me, staring into my eyes.
I did the first thing I could think of: I leant in and kissed him, full on the lips. I closed my eyes. I instantly regretted it. First, I’d laughed at him, and now I was leading him on? What kind of a sick monster does that? Maybe I should have let him hypnotise me.
But something had stopped me. Something inside me had provoked despair at the thought of his departure. Some irrational longing for him to stay.
I opened my eyes, realising I was still kissing him. And he, well, he was putting his arms around my waist, clasping his hands tightly behind my back, preventing me from breaking free, but also pushing me closer to him.
The glow around him enveloped me, warming me and chasing away my thoughts so that the only thing I was aware of was the moment.
I felt dizzy and light-headed. For the second time of my own accord that night, I blacked out.
I awoke on my bed. I was quite confused. Had that all been a dream, then? I was disappointed at the thought. I heard a soft chuckle beside me, and my heart did a somersault while I sighed, relieved. It hadn’t been a dream.
I rolled over to fall into blue depths. I hadn’t realised how close he was. Lying there, smiling contentedly was Christopher. ‘Who else?’ I thought to myself.
He chuckled again. Illuminated by the silver glow of the moonlight (was it still night time?), he looked ghostly pale, but this merely added a haunting quality to his beauty.
I could only stare into his eyes. Though filled with warmth and love, they were more hypnotic than I’d ever seen them before. Struggling to think, I came out with “Hi,” as my first word.
‘Hi.’ His voice was almost painfully alluring, soft like feathers and enchantingly melodious.
“Wow.” The word escaped my throat, revealing all too clearly how amazingly wonderful I found him. He didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, his eyes seemed to be enjoying melting me down into a thick liquid of pure love and romantic dreams.
‘I wish you’d told me you felt the same.’ His tone wasn’t angry or longing, just calm with contentment.
“I... I didn’t know,” I told him truthfully, still struggling to put words together that made sense.
At least you know now.
His finger brushed against my skin as I felt him tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. My heart skipped a beat. He chuckled again.
“You felt that?” I asked, alarmed, feeling colour spread to my cheeks.
And heard it. I’m hypersensitive, remember?”
“Oh, I meant it to ask you about that.”
‘Did you, now?’ He was making if extremely difficult for me to concentrate, by gazing deeper into my eyes.
‘Ask away.’ His eyes blazed, scattering my thoughts.
“I can’t...” My breath stuck in my throat as he took the strand of hair he’d just tucked behind my ear and started twirling it around his finger.
‘Why not?’ He sounded amused, but I knew he knew. He was psychic after all. He was deliberately making conversation and coherent thought nigh impossible.
And why shouldn’t I? We have the whole night ahead of us and you really are funny like this. Now, tell me, in your own words, why you can’t ask.
“You... you know, though.” I was starting to hyperventilate and my breath was still sticking in my throat. I couldn’t breathe properly.
‘I know.’ He was being so unfair. ‘Tell me: I want to hear it from you.’
“Y-you’re amazing, that’s why.” Amazing didn’t cover it. He was... devastatingly magnificent. He chuckled again, obviously enjoying himself.
I like that. Devastatingly magnificent. Now you can ask your question.
“Question?” I asked dazedly, sure I wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
A memory played in my head, but it was his, not mine. I saw myself through his eyes saying, ‘I meant to ask you about that,’ when he’d reminded me that vampires were hypersensitive. I was quite an odd sensation, made even stranger by the way I could feel his emotions, his curiosity. Music seemed to play in his mind when I talked: sweet, tinkling piano keys. The memory stopped.
‘Go on, then.’ I could imagine his mischievous smile, though of course I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his gaze.
“Um, yeah, err... I was going to ask... What’s hypersensitivity like?”
It’s strange, actually. You hear everything so clearly and notice more about your surroundings than you ever thought you could notice. It can be slightly alarming if you’re not used to it, with quiet sounds sounding like a conversation at normal volume. Recently, however it’s become amusing.
“A-amusing?” I wondered how I was surviving on such a small supply of air.
Yes. For example, your heartbeat it hilarious. It’s sped up and almost all I can hear is thump, thump, thump, thump, like someone banging on a drum.
“Oh, h-hilarious,” I stuttered.
‘It’s flattering too,’ he mused. ‘That I have this effect on the one I love. I really do love you, you know.’
“I love you, too.” I took a deep breath to say that in one breath, but I realised that was a mistake as I finally lost consciousness.
‘You know, I’d be annoyed at that if you weren’t so enchanting’ was the first thing I heard as the blue eyes came into focus again. I quickly tore my eyes away and rolled over so I could enjoy a few moments of breathing normally.
‘No, you don’t.’ He pulled me back over to face him, not even letting me have a few minutes to breathe.
“Please,” I implored, gazing straight at him to try and convey my need for air.
‘Nope.’ He chuckled. ‘You’ll survive.’
Yup. I’m not smothering you, so you should be able to breathe.
“It feels like I’m being smothered.”
‘But you’re not.’ And he leant in to kiss me.
I lifted my arms to wrap them around his neck, shifting slightly to pull the one underneath me and stroking Christopher’s arm as he shifted to allow me to move it. He pulled me on top of him, still kissing me, as he put his arms around my waist, before rolling us both back onto our sides. His aura enveloped me as it had before, and all I could think was I love him; I love him.
‘I love you, too,’ he told me. ‘And, you can direct your thoughts at me: I’m listening.’
‘Oh, you’re so wonderful!’ I was elated I could converse with him whilst kissing him. ‘Your voice is like music and your eyes are mesmerising. You’re enchanting and you captivate me.’
His response to this was 'You’re just funny.'
We broke off from the kiss and rolled onto our backs to lie there, catching our breaths.
“What time is it?” I wondered aloud.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ came the reply.
I rolled over to look at the clock. 02:00, it read.
“It’s been two hours?” I asked, rolling back onto my back.
You did lose consciousness a lot.
“Is that healthy?”
Another question sprang to mind, totally random, but valid.
“Why do you talk in my head? It’s not as if you can’t talk aloud.”
‘That was random,’ he noted. ‘I suppose I’m used to being the stealthy predator of the night. I’ve no idea what happened earlier. Perhaps, I got tired of using my mind, though I’m sure I’d become equally tired of using my voice.’
“Ah, well, if I ever tire of your mental voice, I’ll go talk to you by day,” I teased, rolling over to stick my tongue out at him.
Ah. You, um, may struggle with that. I’m incredibly shy of you.
“What?! You told me you loved me. We are lying on my bed, reliving a kiss!”
He squirmed. ‘By day, I... forget I’m a vampire.’