Even though he was expecting it, Naomi knocking on the door made Arran jump. His breathing shallow, he let her in and walked with her back into the living area. She sat down at the very edge of the armchair, elbows resting on her knees and hands clasped together in front of her mouth. She looked at Arran expectantly and he took a breath to steady his nerves before starting.

"Right, I'll tell you everything, but I need you to be open minded. More open-minded than you probably expect." Naomi nodded and Arran reached into his pocket to retrieve his car keys. "Also, I've just realised that what I'm about to tell you is pretty alarming and I don't want you to feel trapped in the middle of nowhere with me so take my keys, if you want to leave that's fine."

"Arran it can't possibly be that bad," she started as she took the keys with a frown. "Just tell me."

"I'm going to show you, I think that's easier."

He grabbed the knife, surprising even himself with the speed that he moved at; he had been consciously telling himself not to hold back as it might help explain things, but clearly, that and the desire to get this over with as soon as possible had had an effect on his reflexes. He had brought the blade back to his left arm before Naomi even had a chance to cry out in shock. He slashed the knife across the outside of his forearm in one fast slice, tearing the flesh open with ease, so much adrenaline flowing in his blood that he barely felt it.

Naomi screamed and grabbed his arm, Arran dropped the knife to the ground and cupped her face with his good arm.

"It's okay, Naomi, look at me. It's all going to be fine."

"What the shit, what are you doing?" She cried, trying to pull free of his hand on her cheek.

"Just look, it's already healing." He turned her head down to the cut, which though deep, was already knitting itself back together slowly. "Just watch, I need you to see this."

Naomi's eyes widened as she saw the wound start to heal. She let go of his arm and pushed herself back into the armchair, her hands covering her mouth and a horrified look on her face.

"In a few hours there won't even be a scar," he told Naomi, though he wasn't so sure about that himself, he had cut deeper than he'd meant to in his haste.

"I want you to tell me, very concisely, very quickly, what the shit just happened," she demanded, her voices wavering and her gaze steady albeit horrified.

Arran closed his eyes and took a deep breath, concise wasn't going to be easy.

"I am not...human?" He opened his eyes again to check her reaction but was met with the same, unmoving look of terror. "My mother was born in 1855 and in 1870 she got um, infected with this disease and she hasn't really aged since. My family, we can heal our wounds, we don't age past maturity, we drink blood and, fuck, I just do not have any sensible or reasonable way of telling you that I am a vampire."

"How dare you, I try to open up to you, tell you that I am literally dying and you're just trying to-"

"Naomi come on, this cut was a centimeter deep, you just saw me do it." Arran licked his thumb and smeared a little of the blood away from the cut, which had become a shallow red line a few millimeters deeper than the rest of his skin. "I can do it again, it'll heal just the same."

"Don't. Don't hurt yourself." Naomi shook her head in disbelief. "How did you do that? Is it some sort of experiment? You're mum's a scientist-"

"My mum's a vampire."

"You keep saying that word. She's not a- you're not a fucking vampire. Your mother is a scientist and she's done some sort of top secret, accelerated healing experiment on you and for some fucked up reason you think it's funny to tell me that you're undead."

Arran grabbed the folder off of the coffee table, opening it to the first photograph, a picture of a portrait done in the late 1870s of his mother, his brother Alexis and Alexis' father, Isaac. Celyn wore a long, all black dress that nearly faded into the dark background but her face was unmistakable, wide brown eyes looking away slightly from the front of the painting, the corners of her mouth turned down.

"Celyn hasn't aged since this was painted like 140 years ago, this is her entire documented life pre-20th century. My whole family is immortal, I know how crazy that sounds but what possible reason could I have for lying to you."

Naomi still shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, eyes shut tight against Arran and what he was trying to tell her. He felt sick, now that the initial shock was over his arm stung and itched as the tissue regrew and mended itself. He wanted this to just end.

He watched her in silence for what felt like an age. Eventually, she reached out for the folder and started to look through it, frowning and still shaking her head in disbelief. Not wanting to look at her angry and doubtful face anymore, he picked up the knife from where it lay in a small blood stain on the rug and washed it at the sink.

When he turned back around, Naomi had the folder on her lap and seemed to be looking something up on her phone.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I'm not stupid, I've read about this kind of thing somewhere."

"Vampires?"

Naomi glared at him so fiercely that he could feel the anger without any telepathy. She still didn't believe him and he had no idea how to convince her.

"Axolotls. They create blastemas of stem cells and they regrow limbs, they can even regenerate organs from like nothing. But it takes time, so how do you do it so quickly? Have your oncogenes been changed?"

If Arran had even known what an oncogene was, he still wouldn't know how his compared to a human's. Quite why he had never been interested in the science behind his own life he wasn't sure, until now it had never seemed important. To him vampires were immortal because they just were, he drank blood because if he didn't he felt awful and magic, well magic just existed. There had to be a scientific explanation for all of it somewhere, but despite growing up with Celyn and Lex, he had never bothered to find out.

Naomi took in his confused look and her expression softened a little as she said, "Yesterday you told me that you loved me."

"I do," said Arran, wanting nothing more than to make her believe both that and the truth about him.

"Then just tell me the truth, or at least what you know. This is clearly some top secret stuff, I understand that, but I've already seen the evidence. I'm not going to tell anyone, I just want to know."

"The truth is," Arran took a moment, hoping that he could think of something, anything to say that would make her listen to him, but he already knew that whatever he told her would be worthless at this point. "I am not human."

Naomi didn't look so angry anymore, just sad and tired. She got up and threw Arran's car keys onto the coffee table. For a second, she hovered, looking down at him as if she was going to say something, but she just shook her head one last time before turning to the door.

Self-preservation, and the fear of Naomi getting caught up in the repercussions if she started spreading his secret, kicked in just as she reached the door. Arran dashed across the room and grabbed the door as she opened it, causing Naomi to turn her face and look him in the eye. She glared at him but Arran could see the shock behind her scowl, even if she truly believed that he was the result of an experiment, now that he wasn't hiding his speed it was unnerving her.

"You can't tell anyone about this, whatever you think of me, okay?" He held her gaze, hoping to make her understand how important this was, even if she wouldn't believe anything else he said. "This is not just my secret"

Naomi took a sharp breath, about to say something to Arran but swallowed it instead. Her next words came out with weight to them, well considered.

"Despite what you obviously think of my intelligence, I'm not actually an idiot. I won't tell anyone about this as long as you stay the hell away from me. There are only three months left to get though of school and then I never have to see you again." She closed her eyes, but not before Arran saw tears start to well up in them. "Why couldn't you just tell me the truth?"

With no answer for her, Arran let go of the door and she tore through the open entrance. He slammed it shut behind her so hard that the paint above the doorway cracked and several chips of plaster fell to the floor. For the second time that morning, Arran was sobbing, but where earlier it had been a relief to get out all of the emotion inside of him, now the fresh pain caught in his every breath. He slid down the wall and sat in the corner of the entrance way. When no more tears would come he just stared at the wall. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And that's the end of chapter seven! It only took me two whole years. I've been more productive of late though and chapter eight is completely finished and ready to start this Friday! <3