May I love you?

May I be your shield?

When no one can be found

May I lay you down?

35 - Kiss or Kill

I stared at the mark on my hand for what seemed like minutes before deciding to turn in. As I passed by the mess hall, I couldn't help but take a peek and eavesdrop on the conversations.

"You're getting old, brother," Vladimir said as he plucked a strand of hair from Hector's head. "You're hair is turning gray."

Hector's eyes widened. He put down his goblet and scrambled to his feet. "Fair suck of the sav!" He made a face while examining the strand Vladimir had given him. Sagging onto the chair, he let the side of his head thud on the wooden table. "We're not just growing old. We're growing mortal."

Vladimir's boyish laugh resounded throughout the hall. "I knew I was growing taller! And I thought I was imagining it."

All of a sudden, Hector began banging his head on the table. "Weren't you listening to a bloody word I've said, mate? We're growing mortal. If Father doesn't regain enough power to sustain our immortality, we'd all be fireflies in a few decades!"

"Who cares?!" Vlad answered skipping up and down as if that would speed up his growth spurt. "I'm growing!"

"I don't want to die!" Hector blubbered.

Vincent caught Vladimir's shoulder and forced him back onto his seat. "You won't die, Hector. Once we start collecting souls again, Fa--I mean Pilgrim's going to be full power in no time."

Vladimir's lips puckered. "Shame."

Shaking his head, Vincent looked at Hector pointedly.

"Shame," he agreed.

"I know, I know!" Vlad's head kept bobbing up and down. "Let's not start collecting souls until I'm able to grow a mustache, okay?"

Vincent forced back a laugh. "Sure thing. Just, grow up fast. I don't think Hector's going to wait long."

Joaquim dropped an arm over Vincent's shoulder. His face was red and he could barely open his eyes.

"You've been sitting there for hours, Meu and you still haven't touched your wine! We've won! Celebrate!" he said, laughing.

"You planning on drinking yourself to death?" Vincent retorted.

"Yes!" Joaquim raised his glass. "In the words of Bukowski, find what you love and let it kill you!"

Vincent was about to say something back when he saw me looking by the door. I wanted to watch them longer. With the brothers bickering like this, it felt like I could forget all my fears for even just a moment.

I averted my gaze and went on my way. It wasn't until I reached our room and slid the door behind me was I able to breathe.

The weight of Belial's words still resonated in my head.

"It's going to be okay," I murmured to myself while pacing back and forth, my breaths scraping in and out of my airways. "Vincent's not going to turn into a monster. Even if he does--no! What was I thinking?! He's never going to let that happen. He--"

The sound of the sliding door being opened interrupted my panicky monologue. I twisted on my heels and saw Vincent enter. He had a goblet in one hand and a small plate of roasted vegetables on another.

His face was unreadable as he placed the plate on the side table to close the door. "You haven't eaten anything... so I brought food."

Quickly, I turned away and pretended to fluff the pillows. "H-have you been there long?"

I heard him sigh. "I'm sorry."

"A-about what?" A shaky laugh came out of me. "You're always saying sorry these days. Are you feeling okay?"

I almost jumped when he slid his arms around me. His breaths played with my hair, sending shivers down my spine. Just by being near, he made it hard to breathe, made my heart quicken and pound so loud I was afraid I wasn't the only one hearing it.

"This whole time I thought you were mad at me because you were jealous of Adrianna," he said, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I was wrong."

I had a comeback ready in my mind for that, but the words got lost when I felt his lips touch the crook of my neck ever so gently. I couldn't move. I couldn't even think. All I knew was that little patch of warmth where his mouth had just been.

"It's because you're worried about me. Because you care," he said, his voice not more than a whisper. "I was stupid. I-I was blind. I should've noticed it sooner. But, I understand everything now. Believe me. I do. Either way, I know I should be sorry, but, I'm just... glad."

"Are you m-maybe running a fever?" I finally managed to say.

Brushing off my attempts at irony, he tightened his arms around me.

"I'm sorry I made you worry. Forgive me?" he said, pulling my hair aside, his lips slowly trailing up my neck to the base of my ear.

My heart almost stopped, seemingly confused by the strange little waves of electricity spreading all over me. Vincent had stood me on a trapdoor and it had already fallen down. I felt my whole body relax and lean on him. Then, I , too, was falling.

I bit my lip, the slight pain making my eyes fly open.

"What are you doing?" I murmured low to keep my voice even.

He stopped, straightened and withdrew his arms, letting them fall to his side. As I turned to face him, he made no effort to hide his disappointment.

"Being brave... I guess," he finally answered, taking both my hands in his. "It's just... Do you want me to stop?"

With the burn creeping up my cheeks, I wanted to shrink. To hide. But I did none of that and looked into his pale metallic eyes, let myself get lost in them. Let myself fall into the trance it was putting me into. I was falling straight into his trap and I didn't care.

His fingers tenderly smoothed the crease between my brows, then, traced my eyes, going down to my lips.

"I guess I'd never know what's going on in that head of yours," he said.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm thinking... if I should kiss you or kill you."

Laughing quietly, his mouth crashed into mine, punishing, full of longing. His hand slid around the small of my back, pulling me to my toes and so close to his body that it was almost as if I was part of him. He pulled away for a fraction of a second, releasing a pent-up breath.

Suddenly, the anticipation for his kisses was so intense it hurt. My hands moved on their own and pulled him back to me.

I felt his hand slip under my blouse, travelling up my back. The heat of his palm seeped into my skin and down to my core. I clutched on his shirt as he lifted me off the floor and lay me down the bed.

Before, I thought this love would forever be unrequited. Now, I just couldn't believe how I survived being so near to him without his kisses. My chest was swelling with happiness, I couldn't contain myself.

Just as he lifted his face to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, a tear rolled down the side of my right eye.

"What's wrong?" he asked, brushing my tears away.

With a little smile, I shook my head. I gazed into his eyes and said, "I love you, Vincent Soren Patrius Sinclair."

He made a face at the mention of his full name. Softly, he touched his knuckles onto my forehead, his eyes full of dreamlike tenderness. And he was smiling like I was his most favorite person on the planet.

On that moment, I wished time would stop.

He was leaning closer again as I pressed a hand on his chest. "You never told me what it means."

"What?" he replied, feigning innocence.

"When you put your knuckles on my forehead. It must mean something."

He looked up as if to think. "You're imagining things."

"Come on, Vincent," I pressed on. "Is it some kind of secret message?"

Vincent paused, his brows beginning to furrow with my unneeded interruptions. Then, he pressed his lips into a thin line. "Maybe..."

Before I could say more, he silenced me with his lips, gently landing on my skin like the first fall of snow. His hands, though, were warm. I let them burn my clothes away.

Then the world spun and disappeared, until all that remained was me and him in each other's arms.