Vampiric: Chapter Two, Part 2

Drei must have sensed my unease after leaving the meeting with Caroline because he made a point of spending more time with me. During the days he was teaching me the tango, his aggravation at my inability to close my feet on the fifth step kept at bay until I finally managed to remember. After successfully completing the step for nearly half an hour, Drei added music to the formula, swiftly taking off into a more complex tango, my feet following obediently, only occasionally stumbling. At those times, he smiled, telling me I was doing wonderfully, and slowed down until I was comfortable again.

After dancing for what felt like an hour, he smiled approvingly, spinning me out and back in, kissing me as I stopped in his embrace. Neither of us pulled away, too content in being close. If things continued as such, I thought I might be able to overlook Caroline’s negativity altogether. If nothing else, it was bringing us closer, even if there was still a nagging voice in the back of my head telling me I had to be cautious.

Ballroom dancing was a way we could be close without necessarily drawing attention to our relationship. The tradeoff was, of course, when we went out at night, I taught Drei how to dance to regular music, and sometimes he added his own twist of classical dance. Though he did try his best, his attempts were humorous as he tried to add familiarity to the new. He often teased this “new dancing” was a cruel joke to make a fool of him.

The day before we were supposed to meet Caroline for her project, Drei and I went walking. He judged it was safe for him since the sun was hidden behind the heavy white-gray clouds. I still wasn’t sure about his tolerance to light. He had once told me sunlight didn’t matter; now it seemed to matter and, though I was curious, he would probably shrug it off as being unimportant.

When we were halfway through the park, it began to snow. I ran out to the center of the open field where snow from earlier in the week still lay peacefully. There, I spun in circles, holding my arms out.

Snow was the one form of precipitation that didn’t make me feel like I was suffocating. Rain made the air heavier and, since air was as much a part of me as my skin and hair and thoughts, it always depressed me. But snow was different. It was solid enough to affect me much like falling leaves—which wasn’t at all.

Drei stood on the cleared path, watching. I stopped, the corners of my lips curling upwards.

“Come on,” I shouted across the distance, waving my arm in a huge arc. “Dance with me.”

“No thank you,” he replied, smiling, his hands buried in his coat pockets.

“Fine,” I said, bending down to scoop up a handful of snow.

“Do not—” Drei’s sentence fell flat as the snowball smashed against his shoulder. At first, he just stared at the clumps of white embedded in the crevices of his coat, bright against the dark material. In one swift motion, he scooped up a handful of snow and tossed it in my direction.

A yelp escaped my lips as I dodged it, laughing giddily.

“It is unfair,” Drei said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. He was already throwing another snowball in my direction.

“Fair?” I questioned, changing the course of the snowball. “Bombarding me is what’s unfair.”

A couple more snowballs hit Drei as I blocked whatever he threw my way. Even when he attempted dodging my missiles, I just manipulated the air to make sure they hit their target—his punishment for being so resistant to dancing with me.

“What is unfair,” he said—snow dusted over his slightly shaggy light brown hair—“is the fact you have an advantage.”

“I have no clue what you mean,” I teased, running to a new location that hadn’t been scavenged clean.

His amethyst eyes sparkled as he loudly replied, “And that is why you have yet to be hit at all—”

“I’m just that good.” When I noticed him running towards me, a fistful of snow in his possession, I screeched joyfully, running away from him. Drei caught me fairly quickly, holding me in his free arm and rocking us back and forth.

“I will not use this snow against you,” he said, his features serious, but a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“That’s why you’re still holding it.” I glanced at the clump of snow he still clutched.

“I am still holding it because it told me you deserved this.” I flinched in his grasp as he crushed the snowball on top of my head. He laughed as I shook large chunks out of my hair, my cheeks bright red and cold, both of us wearing veils of snow in our hair. “You cannot avoid me forever.”

“I never said I wanted to.” Our eyes locked on each other.

Everything around us was silent, almost as though it was afraid to interrupt us. All of the laughter and teasing that had echoed in the clearing had faded away. What was left was the soft snowfall and us, together, seemingly suspended in time.

And then he kissed me.

There, in the open, for anyone to see—not that there were many people out for leisurely strolls—in one of the most peaceful settings of which I had ever been a part.

It was a moment free of worry, false pretenses, fear…everything but love.

On the way home, Drei asked, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

I gazed up at him, unsure how to answer. No matter what, every time I thought about Caroline, or Ian, or the whole faction, I couldn’t shake the feeling something was going to happen. Something was going to ruin what I had with Drei, whether directly or not.

“I don’t know,” I said after a while.

“I will be there with you, every step of the way.” He took my hand in his, stopping to kiss my fingers. His eyes were serious and a darker amethyst than usual. He was right; he would be there. Drei would be at my side so long as I needed him; tomorrow I needed him, more than I had in a long time.

“So long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine.”

Another thought occurred to me as we reached the apartment, though: what if what was going to happen would transpire not because of someone else, but because of Drei?