This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Ady_dreams for being a long time reader who always leave great comments. Her book Born From Shadows is well worth checking out!

Arran had set himself a target for calling Naomi at ten but though he woke up in time, he was still staring at the ceiling by the time she called him at midday. Their conversation was painfully brief but he agreed to drive over to her house and talk with her.

After pulling on last night's jeans from where he'd thrown them off in the night and a fresh shirt, he started to make his way to the kitchen to grab something to eat on his drive over but faltered at the door. He felt nauseous and the idea of running into his mother certainly didn't help so he turned and quietly left the house instead.

He wasn't sure exactly how he felt, his hands were a little shaky if he didn't make the effort to steady them and his body seemed light. But on top of it all was a welcome feeling of finality; the events of the night before had shown him once and for all that he didn't have a place in the human world and it wasn't fair to Naomi make her unwittingly connect him to that world.

She deserved to live a long, happy and normal life.

Under the surface, his heart was breaking, but the acceptance how dangerous he was for her kept him calm. He had never meant to fall in love with her in the first place, but he couldn't deny anymore that he had. He'd been selfish to let it get this far.

He pulled into her neat little suburb and the realisation hit him that this would likely be the last time he ever came here. Shaking that thought from his head, he parked his car and made his way to the door.

Before he even had a chance to psyche himself up to knocking on the door, Naomi opened it, clearly having been waiting for him.

She looked tired, she had a grey pallour under her dark skin and a blotchiness under her eyes like she had been crying.

"Let's go upstairs," she said with no greeting, "just in case my mum comes home early."

"Okay," replied Arran but she was already making her way up the stairs.

He took his boots off and followed her up.

Naomi's room was small, her queen sized bed was pushed against the wall and between that, her wardrobe and her desk there wasn't much else in it. There were fairy lights strung out at regular intervals but absolutely no clutter anywhere.

She sat on the bed, leaning against the wall with her knees tucked up in front of her and so Arran took the desk chair and turned it to face her, unsure of how to start.

Before he could even organise his thoughts, Naomi spoke up.

"I know that you said when we started dating that there would always be things that you couldn't tell me," she didn't look at him as she spoke, "but what happened last night was beyond your mother's incredibly vague line of work or your suspicious family members. Arran I- I can't do this anymore if you can't be honest with me."

Arran gulped, his heart felt less like it was racing and more like it was having a seizure.

"I understand, and I-"

"But it's not fair to ask you to be honest when I haven't been honest with you."

"What?"

He couldn't think of a single thing she would have to hide from him, at least nothing big. She lived a perfect, normal life.

"There's a lot more wrong with me than I let on," she took a sharp breath and looked up at Arran. "I have this thing called refractory idiopathic thrombocytopenic purpura. ITP is a blood disorder, it's not normally that bad but it's why my immune system is so crap and basically mine just won't go away. And that's bad because it normally does, especially in young people..."

As she trailed off Arran found himself shifting onto the bed beside her and grabbing her hands. He was trying desperately not to read her mind because now more than ever that seemed like an invasion of privacy, but he wasn't sure what she saying and it scared him.

"So what does that mean?" His voice came out in a whisper.

She squeezed his hand tightly and said, "it normally means that someone my age will be dead by the time that their 50. But in all reality just given how unresponsive my body is to every treatment I've ever had and how often I get ill I will probably not make it to 40."

Arran pulled her closer, he had no way of processing what she had just said. All he had was a desire to comfort her.

"You're the first person other than a doctor that I've said this out loud to," she said as she buried her face in his neck.

"Your parents don't know?"

"Not all of it, they already know that they'll probably outlive me so what's the point in telling them it'll be that much sooner? Besides, I don't want to make them more overprotective."

For a while they sat like that, tightly embraced. All Arran could think was how unfair it was that he might live for centuries but Naomi could be dead in a decade.

Eventually, she pulled away, but Arran kept hold of one of her hands, the other she used to wipe tears from under her eyes.

"So that's me," she said. "I don't really have a future ahead of me, but I really liked you and I wanted to feel normal and just, have some fun, you know? But obviously, I understand if it's a bit of a turnoff."

She looked so sad and broken, completely unlike her normal self. Arran would have given anything to just be on a normal day with her again, doing homework in a comfortable silence or watching videos on the Internet for hours on end.

He brought a hand to her cheek and looked into her eyes.

"I love you- Naomi," he meant it, he absolutely shouldn't have said it but he meant it all the same.

"No you don't."

"I do, I wish I'd said before last night before I knew you were ill but I couldn't really admit it to myself before now."

"If you love me then tell me what's going on."

"I will," he said, all resolve shattering.

It still seemed like a bad idea, but if she could tell him something that she'd never told anyone else before, he owed it to her to at least try to explain.

"I'll tell you what happened last night and I'll tell you who I am," he said with a voice that sounded a lot steadier than he felt, "but I'm going to need a little time first."

Naomi pulled her hand out of his with a sharp sigh.

"But why can't you just tell me now?"

Because he was scared. Because the only other time he'd ever told anyone he had been wasted and had meant to wipe her memory. And because in the end, that person had seen vampires for what they really were, and had left him.

"Because it's complicated, I don't even have the words to explain it to you yet. And it doesn't just involve me, this is about my family too. I promise you I'll tell you everything just let me do it tomorrow."

"Fine," she said, "but until you start giving me some answers, don't talk to me."

"Fair enough."

"And if you don't have any answers for me tomorrow, that's it."

There was a lump in his throat as he nodded in agreement. He didn't think for one minute that once she found out about the real him she'd want to stay with him anyway.

"So unless you want to start talking, get out of my house."

Omg a Monday update, does that mean there will be a Friday update? Hopefully! I've actually already written most of this chapter so I'm hoping to be a couple of updates ahead at all times which should help me kee on schedule! Anyway, hope you enjoyed <3