"Morning, Ollie," I said when she finally emerged from the bedroom around noon, sleepily stumbling into the kitchen. But at my use of her nickname, she came to a halt, eyes flying wide open.

"What did you just call me?" she squeaked.

"Ollie," I replied, throwing her a grin before resuming making lunch. Bratwurst for me with a side of steamed greens, and for Ollie I was making a cheese toastie paired with tomato soup—something greasy enough to help with her hangover. What she didn't know is that I snuck into my spare room this morning while she was fast asleep to brew her an anti-nausea potion that I laced the soup with. Her hangover was bound to be cured the moment she ate.

"H-h-how do you know my nickname?" she stuttered as I set her food in front of her.

Resting my elbows on the counter and my head in my hands while my lunch still cooked behind me, I replied. "You told me."

"Last night?"

I nodded.

"Was... was there anything else I told you?" she replied, fear masking her gaze as she gingerly sat down on the stool. 

She had a vague memory... I thought. 

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, only confirming my assumption.

I threw her a small smile and coyly raised my eyebrows to tease her a little longer, before saying, "Eat first. Then we can talk."

She needed to be well for this conversation.

After finally serving up my plate, I took the stool next to her and began to dig in. All the while, Ollie nibbled at her food, casting hesitant glances my way.

We ate in silence, me self-consciously chewing my food, wondering if I looked weird doing so. I couldn't take the heat from her constant glimpses.

Meanwhile, once Ollie had taken a few spoonfuls of the soup, the colour returned to her cheeks and she seemed to liven up. Her shoulders stopped slouching. Her eyes pepped up. And as she seemed to become more ravenous, her attention turned more towards the food and less on me, allowing me to calm my heart and eat in peace.

The reality was, I was super nervous. Because it was time we spoke about all the unsaid things. I was scared I would hurt her feelings. And I was also worried she'd run from me after this. But we couldn't prolong acknowledging the bond between us anymore... or the feelings that came with it.

So once we finished our food, I quickly washed the dishes while she dried. Then, letting out the sink, I turned to her and said, "Let's go to my room."

"Your... bedroom? Why?" she asked hesitantly.

But then I gave her a look that said, 'Really? We've shared the same bed for weeks now and you're going to get weird about this?'

Head turning down in embarrassment, she shuffled through my living room and to my bedroom. I left the door open as I took a seat, crossing my legs on the bed and patting the space beside me.

Slowly, she came over, mirroring my posture, but avoiding looking at me.

"You can never ruin our friendship," I started.

She let out a shocked intake of breath as I finally revealed that her worst assumptions were true—she had evidently been deluding herself all morning that perhaps she hadn't said those dreaded three words to me while drunk.

"But the truth is, Ollie," I breathed, pausing to gently grab her hand in mine, unable to look at her while I said it, but needing to touch her, "I like you too."

Her breathing stopped and I could feel the full burn of her stare on my face.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, I looked up at her.

She stuttered, "W... what do you mean by—"

"The same as you. In a romantic way." One side of my mouth turning up, I then said, "How could I not fall for my best friend?"

Her eyes softened but she didn't relax the full way because I knew what she could see clouding my gaze... the 'but'.

And so I said it. "But you and I can't ever be together that way."

She looked down to her lap and tried to take her hand from mine, but I gripped on. "Is it because of your ex?"

"What?" I asked, trying to grasp where this came from.

"The one at the cinema?"

"Erica?" I replied, and she winced at the mention of a name. "No... It's not about her. But I can't say it's not fully about an ex..." I sighed and shook my head, letting her hand go to run my fingers through my hair. "It's really complicated."

"So tell me." I felt a pressure on my knees, her heartbeat closer. Looking up, her face was suddenly very close as her knees now rested on mine, eyes starting at me with concern.

"I... I'm scared to."

"Why?" she pressed.

"Because... if you knew everything... you'd run away," I admitted.

"I have two things to say to that. Number one: as you said, we are best friends. I'm not going anywhere, no matter what."

If you knew how much your blood makes my mouth water then I bet you would, I thought in response.

"Number two... What did I tell you that day when we first had a decent conversation?"

"Which day?"

"When we were forced to talk about Romeo and Juliet? After class."

Pursing my lips, I shrugged. She said a lot of things that day...

"I said you can't bottle things up." The memory instantly returned to my mind.

"Because, if you do, you might not recognise yourself when you break," I then whispered, recalling her advice.

She nodded. "Exactly. Now tell me, how many people have you spoken to about whatever this is bothering you?"

"No one..."

"Lukas," she softly reprimanded.

I shook my head. "They'd look at me differently."

She let out a soft sigh and then picked up my hand in hers, all the while gazing into my eyes. A part of me wondered where her confidence to touch me so much had come from... but then I remembered she knew how I felt now. So she seemed to not be holding back. Which wasn't fair game. "Well I won't."

"You don't know that," I replied.

"I do."

"How could you?"

"I never told anyone about Jacob since it happened. The first time I did, someone convinced me it really was my fault. I stewed in that, and believed the hole I had worked myself into was right. But it took five seconds of courage to spill it to you. And I feel so free after. Because you did not react at all how I feared. Because you're my friend and care about me and you..." She went quiet, eyes drifting to my chin.

"Like you?" I finished.

A giddy smile spread across her face as she glanced back up to me, nodding. "Despite what happened, somehow... you still like me."

I couldn't stop the smile taking hold of my face after. Because I relished in the fact that my feelings had this effect on her.

"So try me," she then whispered.

I stared into her eyes for a moment longer, searching for any sense of hesitancy. But she remained calm.

So I said, "Okay."

She pulled back from me, making my knees go cold. And as much as I wanted her touching me again, I knew I needed full use of my body for this.

When I planned how this conversation would go, one avenue did go this way... where I'd tell her everything. So I had an idea of how to ease her into it.

I started by grabbing the bedside table lamp, unplugging it from the wall and bringing it to the bed.

She cocked her head to the side.

I reached down through the top of the lampshade and unscrewed the bulb before setting it on the bedside table.

The adorable crease weaved between her brows as she tried to figure out what I was doing.

I removed the shade and placed the base back on the bedside table.

To be fair... what I was doing was showing off. It was a powerplay to woo her in the process... I could have just grabbed the bulb and turned it on with my bare hand as a way to prove a point. But I wanted to do something more... something memorable.

Turning the shade upside down, I grasped the metal ring that held the rods to the frame with one hand. And with the other, I went around the circle, breaking the rods off from the base like they were merely toothpicks.

Casting a glance up at her before the last one, her eyes had grown wide. "That's... you should return that. It's poorly built," she said, voice squeaking as her brain tried to justify what she saw.

Reaching over to her, I grabbed her hand and placed it on the last rod. "Try breaking it," I said.

"What?"

"Just... try, Ollie."

She frowned at me for the nickname but then pulled the shade to her lap. She pulled, tugged, and pushed with all her might. But to no avail. Then, as her hand returned to her side, deflated, I pinched the ring with one hand and, with the other, snapped off the remaining rod.

"What the..." she whispered.

Grabbing the broken lampshade from her, I tossed it onto the ground, before I placed the metal ring in her hand.

"How did you—"

I cut her off by holding up a hand. I moved her palm outwards, closer to me, then hovered my free one over the top, creating a space between our hands and the ring. Then I levitated it.

She yanked her hand away in response.

"What the!" she exclaimed.

And then I made it glow, melting the metal so that I could mould it and shine it into a bangle for her. Once I was finished, I rested it back on my palm until it had fully cooled. Slowly extending my hand across the space between us so as not to spook her, I grabbed her free hand and slipped the bangle onto her wrist.

It was an easy trick, really. One they taught us in school in a lesson on how to manipulate metals. Nonetheless, I knew it was simple enough to ease her into the questions and answers that would follow. Because I had shown her some of my vampire strength, she had seen the pills... and now she knew of some basic magic manipulation.

"What the... what.... W..."

I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my face before I said, "Cat got your tongue, Ollie?"

Eyes snapping away from my hands to my eyes, her face suddenly contorted with anger. But then she did the last thing I expected. She whacked me on the shoulder.

"Hey!" I complained, pretending to rub my shoulder even though it didn't hurt.

"Why would you make fun of me when I'm obviously struggling to comprehend what the heck just happened?"

"Because I'm hoping it helps you freak out less... and to remind you I'm still me?"

In an instant, the anger quelled and the softness returned to her face. While her hands paused slightly before grabbing mine—as though she was afraid I'd make her skin melt—she still took hold of me before scooting closer. "I know you're still you. But also... what the hell are you?"

"A witch... wizard... warlock... whatever term you want to give it."

She nodded slowly, the reality slowly sinking in. After an insurmountable time passed with her looking at me, bobbing her head up and down while her mind evidently raced with questions, she then said, "So the questions about witches you once asked me..."

"I was sussing out your response."

"Okay... What about the vampires? You stuck on that for a while. Do you know any—"

But her off, quickly blurting out, "I'm also a vampire."