Chapter 10 – Dahlia #2
I don’t know why I keep feeling this need to be honest with him.
I guess it’s because I have been honest to a fault with people, opening up to people who don’t even deserve it, people who aren’t safe, and yet I’ll never be totally open to the core of who I am.
I live a lie no matter where I go. Most humans in this world don’t know I’m a witch, don’t know what I’ve been indoctrinated to do, don’t even know vampires exist. Back at home, I have a friend or two that will hang out with me, but they don’t know what I am, and only seem to like me when I’m wearing a mask, pretending to be whatever they want me to be, whatever role they think I fit for the evening.
And if I were to be in a real relationship with someone, I would have to hide my true nature from them.
No matter where I go, I can never truly reveal myself.
“You know, I can’t remember the last time I was on a date.”
He tilts his head as he gives me a soft smile. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”
I open my mouth to clarify, but nothing comes out. Instead I take a sip of my drink and the waiter arrives with the plate of fried squash blossoms, right on time to quell the awkwardness.
We dig into our food and I can’t help but steal a glance at Valtu.
He eats with patience, handling his fork delicately, no doubt centuries of fine manners bestowed upon him.
I know that vampires are born human, have human bodies until they transform at the age of thirty-five (females at twenty-one), and that until that happens they eat food like the rest of us.
I also know that when they are vampires, they do require blood to survive, and they hunger for it like nothing else, but they will occasionally eat food as well.
It seems that Valtu has no problems indulging in it, though I’m not sure how much he enjoys it or how much is for a show of normalcy.
“I have a hard time believing that, Ms. Abernathy,” he says between bites, his voice gentle. “That you can’t remember the last date you were on.”
“It’s true,” I tell him. “I honestly can’t remember. I don’t date, I’ve never even been in a relationship. Never been in love.”
Now he’s really surprised, but not as much as I am for just telling him all that. I quickly shove the fried flower in my mouth so I don’t say anything else stupid.
“I don’t need to tell you how beautiful you are,” he says. “You must already know it. So I know it’s not a matter of people not being attracted to you, rather—”
“But it is,” I interrupt him, quickly swallowing my food. “It is. And it’s not my looks, I know I’m pretty enough, it’s just the moment people get to know me, they…” I look away, feeling like an idiot. Why am I telling him this?
I take in a deep breath. “You know about the whole uncanny valley thing right?”
His brows come together. “How something looks almost human but there’s something off about it, which in turn makes them repulsive to others?”
I bite my lip, my eyes focused on my hands as I slowly turn my glass around on the table.
“Yeah. That. Sometimes I think that people get that feeling from me. Like I look like them, like I’m almost like them, but then there’s just something about me that tells them I’m different.
That I’m not the same as them. And so they stay away. ”
He’s quiet and I’m almost scared to look up at him. I’ve never admitted that to anyone before, I think I’ve barely admitted it to myself.
But when I meet his eyes, he’s looking at me like he’s recognizing something in me, maybe putting two and two together.
“Have you ever felt that way about anyone?” he asks. “Have you looked at someone and thought that something doesn’t feel right?”
I know the irony in a vampire asking me this question, and I suddenly realize just how similar the two of us are.
The difference is, humans are naturally drawn to vampires, they have that inner charm that makes them so alluring—and deadly.
And even if they didn’t, they certainly have the power to compel them.
“I have,” I say slowly. “But it hasn’t scared me off. It doesn’t scare me like I seem to scare everyone else.”
He leans forward slightly, a piece of black hair falling across his forehead, and I find myself reaching forward, brushing it back behind his ear, his skin cold against my touch, his hair silky soft. His eyes meet mine, an intense mahogany storm, and we’re so close now…
I quickly take my hand back, putting distance back between us.
He swallows thickly, watching me as I quickly take a gulp of my drink. I feel so fucking insane right now, I’m vibrating. “What if I were to tell you that I feel the same way as you,” he says softly, pressing his fingers into the table. “That I know exactly what you’re speaking about?”
A normal person would brush him off. They’d tell him, don’t be silly, you’re this accomplished handsome professor at a prestigious music school. I should say all that to keep up the ruse, but I can’t. I don’t want to. I want someone to relate to for once in my damn life.
“Do you really?” I whisper.
He nods gravely and I find myself wondering about his real story, his real past, all the things I would normally be asking him but I can’t because he’s only going to hide who he is, much the way I have to hide who I really am.
“As a child, I had no friends,” I say after a moment.
“I really didn’t. And I didn’t understand why, you know?
I tried so hard to be good, to be nice to everyone, I really did.
I tried so hard it was sad. And yet I was always the last to get picked for anything.
When there were assignments we had to pair up for in school, no one ever chose me.
The teacher then had to put me with someone and I always saw the resentment in the one I was paired with.
The teachers didn’t like me either for some reason, even when I never spoke out of turn and I always did my homework.
And whenever there was a team for like soccer, baseball, or something, I was always picked last, even though I was pretty athletic.
I was the one never invited to birthday parties even though I would always get them a gift.
I always sat alone in the back of the school bus.
I never had a best friend, and if I did they only lasted a short while before they realized there was something wrong with me.
Every time I opened my mouth kids would tune me out, and adults did the same.
It’s like they didn’t want the weird quiet kid hanging out with their child.
And I still don’t know what it is about me.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I didn’t understand… I don’t…”
Tears sting at my eyes and I know I should shut up, that I’m ruining everything, that I’m saying too much and to the absolute worst person, but I can’t help it.
I always thought it was because I was a witch, and that’s what people saw in me, that they saw I was different because of the magic in my veins and it scared them.
And if that was true, well that I could understand.
But then I was raised around other witches when I went to live with Bellamy, and then went to the academy for slayers, and it was the same thing.
It was the same damn thing. It had nothing to do with being a witch at all, people just didn’t want anything to do with me no matter how hard I tried to be nice or to be funny or smart or relatable.
So I just stopped trying.
I chose to shun the world and be alone. Spent my days with only good books for company.
And I became the only person I could rely on.
But I still don’t know why it has to be this way. What is it about me that makes me so unlikeable? Am I really that awful, really that broken inside?
“I was a good kid,” I go on, tears now flowing down my face, and I can’t stop them, can’t stop talking, “before my parents died, I was a good kid. I could never understand why me? Like why…you know once, when I was like eight, I was so lonely and just so desperate, I took out the phone book and called every single kid in my class and asked them if they would play with me. And every single one of them said no . They all said no.”
Oh god. Now I’m really crying. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I look at Valtu through my tears and shake my head.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why the fuck I’m telling you this.
” I glance around, trying to see if people are paying attention to us, and there are a few curious looks thrown my way to see why this girl is crying on her date.
I’m making a fool of myself for no reason.
I could be enjoying a drink on a night out in Venice, but instead I’m crying over shit from my childhood in front of my teacher, who happens to be a fucking vampire, who I was originally sent here to kill.
Everything is just such a damn mess.
“Don’t be sorry,” Valtu says, reaching forward and placing his hand on mine, his skin cold but electric. “You’re telling me this because you need to tell me. You want to. And you know you can trust me. You know that I am the same as you.”
As much as vampires are different from the average human, there’s no way he can relate to all that I’ve just spilled my guts over, I don’t care who he was in his past.
I shake my head, wiping my tears.
“Can I kiss you?”
I go still, staring at him in surprise. “What?”
Did he just ask to kiss me?
“I would like to kiss you,” he repeats, intensity burning in his eyes.
“Now?” I practically sputter, blinking at him. “While I’m crying?”
He doesn’t answer. He just moves, leaning across the table in a flash of black.