Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 6

That’s where I stayed. It felt like an eternity that I lay there, my hand slowly bleeding—not fast enough to make a mess, just a slow, almost gelatinous, ooze—the carpet absorbing my tears, and me, suffocating, despite not even having to breathe. And the pain; the wrenching, burning pain clawing at my insides.

“Abriel, we will be late if you do not—,” Drei called as he walked through the door, stopping as he no doubt saw the mess I had created. He had run an errand and promised to be back in time for us to make it to the party.

He sat me upright, propping me against himself and holding me in his strong arms. I still couldn’t stop myself, even with him here. Nothing he said made any sense for a while, it was too soft and I was focused too much on what was happening inside me. When I wasn’t crying so hard, he lifted me and laid me in bed.

“I will be right back,” he promised, wiping the wet hair back from my forehead.

Drei spoke to someone in the other room, probably on the phone to tell them we weren’t coming. Caroline would yell at me for it later and Ian would probably tell her to shove it. Or someone else might. I tried imagining how it would pan out, but the distraction was useless; I rolled over, sobbing and crying again. I was coughing so hard my chest ached.

He was back again, propping me against his chest, rubbing my back until the coughing stopped. Then he cleaned and wrapped my cut hand. At least that’s when I suspected he did it; I didn’t actually know for sure. When he was done with that, he wrapped me in his arms and rocked me back and forth. I wasn’t sure how it was possible there were still tears left in me, but there were more, even if they only came quietly now.

Drei held me at least until I fell asleep. I was still in his arms when I awoke. His eyes were closed and his head bowed over me. I felt exhausted—emotionally and physically. Closing my eyes again, I only wanted to sleep, or try to anyway.

“We should talk first,” Drei said softly. It was strange hearing his voice in the silence, more so because he sounded worn and weary, almost fragile. “What happened?”

I tried to bury my face in his chest, but he turned and lifted my chin with a hooked finger.

“Something is wrong.” Had I not been so exhausted, I wondered if I would have thought that was the stupidest statement ever. Of course, something was wrong. The last time I cried anywhere near that much was when he kicked me out years ago, and, even then, it hadn’t hurt quite this much.

Shaking my head, I attempted pulling away from him. I loved him, but he did this to me. And yet I didn’t want him to feel guilty about it. If I told him, that’s what would happen, but he might be able to help me work through it so I felt better; if I didn’t tell him—I didn’t really want to think about that. None of what was going through my head was making any sense.

Drei wouldn’t let go of me; he wasn’t hurting me, but he wasn’t going to let me escape and avoid this.

“I know you need rest,” he murmured as he lowered his face until his forehead nearly touched mine. “But we need to talk about this, Abriel. What happened?” he repeated, as if I had forgetten the question. I was only trying to avoid answering it after all. “Tell me.”

“No.” Part of me still wanted to pull away from him, but part of me wanted to fall asleep in his arms again. Either way, I knew I didn’t want to answer that question, especially not now. “You don’t want to know.” I buried my head in my hands.

“If you are hurting, Abriel, I want to know.”

“Why? It’ll only hurt you.”

“That means nothing to me. Your health, your wellness means everything to me.”

Glancing up at him, I found his face already contorted in pain, all because I wouldn’t talk to him. That was what I’d been hoping to avoid. “It sucks,” I said lamely, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t have a reflection.”

His fingers ran through my hair and massaged my scalp, though his unease and worry snaked around me. “I should have told you.”

“It’s why you took down all the mirrors.” I didn’t need him to confirm it because I already knew it was why. He wanted to protect me from that truth, and as I had become considerably with other things—like sating my hunger and the movement—I hadn’t cared. “That’s mostly why.”

“Such a trivial thing?”

“No, Drei. It wasn’t trivial.” He didn’t understand. By the time he went out into the world, he was numb from what he had done. He didn’t notice the world moving on around him, leaving him behind. “It was the last thing I could stand losing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Drei, I’ve been giving up and leaving behind so much. For my element, for my vampire…and it was just building on top of itself. One thing on top of another; something old would come up and add…and when I couldn’t even see what I looked like—couldn’t even prove I still existed—” My voice cracked as a new wave of tears pressed at my eyes. I had hoped my tear ducts were empty.

“I had no idea.”

“I didn’t want you to,” I admitted, sniffing, trying to hold back the tears.

“You do exist, Abriel,” he said, wrapping me tighter in his arms.

“How can I—”

“Because if you ever wonder, I will hold you. I will say anything you want. I will kiss you and do whatever you desire of me. I will stay by your side until you feel better,” he promised, his amethyst eyes pale and serious. “To me, you exist…and because you do, I am happier than I have ever been.”

Wrapping my hands around the back of his neck, I buried my face into his chest—breathing him in and failing to quell the tears now rolling down my cheeks—and this time he didn’t stop me. One of his arms was wrapped around my waist, his other hand lost in my hair.