THE SILENCE WAS getting on my nerves. But I didn't want to break the ice. I needed an answer. And so, I will get it!
Suddenly, I heard a sigh. My eyes narrowed as I stayed vigilant.
"Why do you have to ask that?" he said. He turned around to face me. His smile was still gentle. Yet, his eyes were spurting coldness. "Can't we live like ordinary humans? Why do you have to ask about my origin?"
Now, my nerves were taut.
He raised a foot to move forward, but I shouted, "Don't get near me!"
Dang it! I couldn't help it! That undead man last time created a shadow in my heart. Even if this one was Yasha and Aseyana's relative, what of it? There was no guarantee he was a good man!
He paused. He didn't approach me. Instead, he remained motionless with his hands hidden in his pants pockets.
"What do you want from me?" I asked. I would never believe it if he said our meeting was a coincidence—- at least not with someone part of the supernatural.
"Can I say I find you interesting?" he answered, smiling. This time, his expression turned gentle. Gone was the coldness I saw earlier.
"Can I say I don't believe you?" I retorted. He changed his face so fast! What a pretenseful man!
"Don't belittle your charm, my love," he said. "You got my interest as soon as I laid my eyes on you."
"You mean my identity as a bloodling hooked your interest?"
He raised a brow. "Ase is not the type who will talk nonsense unless necessary. I presume Yasha told you about the bloodling?" He sat in front of me. "She knows not to shut her mouth."
Yasha was, indeed, the one who told me about my being a bloodling. But that was because of the situation we were in. I didn't know if it was necessary to inform him of that. However, he didn't let me think as he suddenly stretched his hand. I quickly took my hands and crossed them in my chest vigilantly.
His hand suspended mid-air. "My love," he said, bringing his hand down the table, "You're hurting me. Though, I am glad you are not letting anyone touch you. Otherwise, those men will regret being born." His smile turned even more kindly.
"What do you mean?"
My heart almost stopped when I suddenly felt him behind me. He firmly held my shoulders, and I could feel his breath in my ears. Then, slowly, he took my hand in his palm. My gaze immediately turned there. I only noticed my nervousness when I saw my hands trembling in his.
"You are really breaking my heart," he said, squeezing my hand. "When have I ever done something to hurt you? Your reaction baffles me."
"I don't know you," I replied, putting off a brave stance. "That's enough reason for me not to trust you. And I don't know why you expect me to see you in a good light considering your identity." And he was too touchy. I was feeling uncomfortable. He was a stranger caressing my hand. Who would feel good about that?! Certainly not me!
"But you trusted my sister—- as well as my niece," I could hear the confusion in his tone. "That would be unfair, don't you think so?"
What was unfair about that?
Then, I felt his hand on my neck, taking hold of my necklace. "This is a good artefact," he said. "Do not lose it." He moved backwards, letting me go, and hummed. "I think my time here is over. I will be leaving, but I will come back to see you tomorrow."
I heard the door opening and closing afterwards. Only then did I release the breath I didn't know I had been holding off. I slumped heavily on the back of my seat. For several minutes, I savoured the silence.
Recalling the scenes earlier, I felt guilty. Does it make sense?
Now that my mind was clear, I could remember the look in his eyes and the way he questioned me about being unfair. He meant well.
At that moment, he looked at me with genuine emotion. He was confused. He was blaming me. He looked as if I was treating him unjustly. And I could tell his feeling was real!
And I was guilty!
And I know I shouldn't be!
Now, I was feeling guilty for thinking that I shouldn't be guilty!
Heck! I hate confusing feelings!
It took me a while to calm down. Then, to totally get my mind off everything, I continued writing my novel. My beloved readers would definitely want to read additional chapters. It would be rude to leave them hanging.
—
Three days went by quickly. I hoped time would slow down a bit. I couldn't help but notice how time flew fast nowadays. It seemed as if it was chasing something. Anyway, the guy was true to his words. Every morning—- wrong, let me correct that—- every day, he would come here, cooking, talking to my mother, or doing whatever. He would stay here the whole day. Then, he would leave after dinner.
My mother came at my door, demanding I entertain our good visitor. But I had been quite busy with my novel. She was stubborn, though. I eventually made her choose. Entertain a guess she wanted to mismatch me or finish the book for money—- she chose the latter (reluctantly and not after giving off reasons and logic only she knew).
After three days, though, I got bored. Nothing comes to mind when I face the computer. And so, I left my room. I found my mother sitting in the living room, her brows knitted together. She was watching the television earnestly.
"What's up?" I asked, sitting beside her. I took a chip from the plate on the table before looking at the television. "A news?" I raised a brow.
I suddenly heard my mother sigh. "You better not be home later than seven," she said. "This world is getting more dangerous."
Curious, I listened to what the newscaster was reporting. Apparently, three bodies were found in separate streets in the town we're currently in. All have the exact reason for death—- blood loss. What was bizarre in this case was all of them got drained of their blood. Not a single drop was left in their bodies.
I got chills while listening. And my mind couldn't help but connect it with the supernatural. Again. I tried to deviate it to psychotics. I truly did. But my thoughts turned to a specific creature of the night—- vampires.
I swear! One of these days, I would be losing my mind.
"Tatia!" my mother called out. "Are you listening?"
"I am," I answered, pointing at the television.
"I meant 'to me'!"
"No, I'm not," I said. "What were you saying?"
She gave me a worn-out look. Then, she sighed. "You should be getting married soon." My mouth twitched when I heard her say that. "At least I won't be getting worried all the time."
"What is it this time? Please stop the blind dates. I thought we've talked it out already?"
"Look!" she pointed at the television. "The world is more dangerous than it used to be—-"
I beg everyone's pardon, but I strongly disagree. Read the history, for example. None of those times were better than it was now.
"—- With a man with you, I can be at ease."
"I can protect myself," I said, not fully believing my words. However, the thought that I could only live well if I had a man on my side was unduly uncomfortable. I didn't know what was wrong with me. But I would rather die than let people think I took a man for that foolish reasoning.
"You can't even cook for yourself!"
"That's different!" I retorted. "Mom, the world will not stop revolving around the sun, nor will it stop rotating in its axis if I die single."
My mother snorted in return. She didn't respond, but her face was ugly as she continued watching the television.
I sighed.
"I appreciate the care," I said. "I know what's worrying you—-"
"Do you really know," she cut me off sarcastically.
"—- What I want to say is I'm already old enough to take care of this kind of thing. Plus, I want a marriage like you and Dad," Imagine me having goosebumps while saying this. I wasn't kidding. I really was. "I have a model with me while growing up. How could you not think I would have difficulty finding my soulmate?"
My parents had a good relationship. I admired them for that. However, they weren't precisely my model. In fact, I had no one to look up to when we speak of romantic relationships. I just had no interest in things like that. Period.
That made my mother speechless. After that, she focused on the television again. But this time, she wasn't wearing a sour face. She looked at peace.
I couldn't help but release a breath of relief. I hoped she wouldn't mention marriage again. It only made me want not to get married even more.
"Where's the guy, by the way?"
I wished I hadn't asked that.
My mother sneered at me, replying, "Now, you're looking for him? Where were you when he was looking for you?"
"At my room," I answered casually. "Making money."
She harrumphed.
I had to leave the living room to give her a moment—- meh! I had to go to save my ears from her scolding.
There was a new coffee shop opened along the way to downtown. I read their reviews. They were fantastic. I want to try it out. And maybe order takeout to ease my mother's mood.