His Stoic Mask, Her Bleeding Heart

"That was incredibly mean," Elyria murmured as she shifted on the couch, rolling onto her side so that she could better see me.

I looked at her over the glass-topped table without a hint of remorse in my eyes. "But it was true," I said stoically.

She put a hand to the biggest gash on her throat, touching it tenderly. "She's not annoying," she argued, wincing as she hit a sore spot a bit too hard. "At least, not to me."

"Do you love her, then?" I asked, my eyes following her every move as she sat up on the couch and continued to inspect her wounds.

"Not in the way you mean," she answered, and I found myself oddly relieved to hear it.

"Then why are you defending her?" I questioned, making my way around the table to sit beside her on the couch. The scent of her blood wafted to my nose almost instantly, and I felt the void in my stomach deepen, the craving begging for attention. I pushed past the uncomfortable feeling and asked, "Why do you keep her around?"

Her fingers began to prod at the other side of her neck, and though her face shifted in a grimace, her voice remained even. "Because even though I don't love her romantically, I do love her." She frowned thoughtfully to herself, her fingers slowing in their investigation. "At least, I think I do." She turned her eyes to me, searching my face as if it would give her the answer. "I mean, there's something there that makes me want to take care of her, that makes me like having her around, that makes her company so comforting to me. What could that be but love?"

"Why would you have sex with her if you don't love her romantically?" I asked, finding her confusion to be quite confusing.

"I don't have sex for love," she told me simply, and took to poking and prodding her gnawed-on wrists. "You know that."

"But you also don't have sex with girls," I pointed out, "and she didn't pay you to sleep with her."

Her brow furrowed, her eyes becoming unfocused and her fingers slowing in their work as she lost herself in thought. "I must love her, then," she concluded at length, turning her attention to me as she resumed the inspection of her various injuries. "What could it be but love?" she repeated in a murmur, more to herself than to me.

I sighed, watching her as she so casually irritated her own wounds. "Is that what you feel for me, then? Some form of non-romantic feeling that must be love?" I asked, expecting some cryptic or confused response.

Instead, she looked right into my eyes, her work ceasing once again. She appeared to be alarmed by the question, her expression mirroring that of a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car, unsure of what to do but wait. "I'm going to go take a bath," she said suddenly, quickly getting to her feet. "The water should help my wounds to heal." She left me, then, with no answer to my question but whatever fear and avoidance could give me.

I frowned. Did this mean that she did love me, or that she didn't love me and that she was just too afraid to say it? I almost wished she was more like Kyrianna at that moment. At least she was willing to admit her feelings, no matter how insane and misplaced they really were.

"Why won't you answer the question?" I asked, deciding suddenly to follow the avoidant woman into the bathroom. She'd left the door open, and I heard the water running as I approached, slow at first, then faster as she turned the tap.

"What question?" she asked innocently, and I walked in to find her stripping beside the gradually filling tub, her shirt and pants already on the floor. Her back to me, I watched her bra go, then her underwear. The scent of blood wafted to my nostrils once again, and I felt a shudder ripple through me. I leaned heavily against the door frame and averted my eyes.

"You know," I said, letting my eyes slip shut now. The sight of her bloody, naked body would only make the craving worse. "The one about whether you really love me or not."

"That's a stupid question," she said as she slipped into the half-full tub, beginning to splash water onto the wounds that weren't yet submerged.

"How is that a stupid question?" I pushed myself off of the doorway and took a step further into the room, watching her eyes though she refused to look at me. "I thought it was a pretty good one, myself."

"Shouldn't you be following Kyrianna?" she asked, sinking lower into the rapidly reddening water of the bathtub. She still wouldn't look at me. "It's dangerous for her to be out alone."

"Do I look like I care about Kyrianna?" I snapped, finding her avoidance to be quite the annoyance. "I wouldn't have said what I did if I cared about her. I wouldn't have sent her out the door if her well-being mattered to me."

Her eyes finally met mine, and I found that their glowing depths held just the slightest hint of surprise. "Why did you take care of her while I was gone, then?"

"I didn't really take care of her," I answered calmly, allowing my anger to cool. We would get back to the original topic eventually, once she was out of subjects with which to dance around it. "Hale did most of it. And what little help I did offer her, I offered because of you, because you cared for her, not because I did."

"Oh, well, thank you," she said softly, allowing her gaze to drift back to the bloody bath water. It had reached a suitable depth, it seemed, and she turned the tap once more to stop the flow of liquid. The scent of blood was stronger now, rising from the water like candy-scented steam. I wanted to take a step away from the tub, to head back into the living room, far away from the scent, but instead, I moved closer.

"Why can you talk about your feelings for Kyrianna, but not about your feelings for me?" I asked quietly after a brief pause. She began to scrub particularly hard at one of the gashes along her arm, once again refusing to look at me, and I knelt beside the bathtub, not caring that I would likely end up soaking wet by the end of this ordeal. "Elyria," I said more sternly, yet still softly, as I took hold of her wrist.

She winced beneath even that light pressure, but none of that pain showed in her tone as she asked, more aggravated than anything, "What?"

"Answer me," I told her gently, gazing intently upon her face while maintaining the gentle hold I had upon her wrist. I felt the sweet stickiness of blood upon my fingertips, but I did my best to ignore the emptiness that stirred within me yet again, begging for my attention.

"It's obvious," she said, now leveling a glare upon me in return for my prying. "What I feel for you is obvious. What I feel for Kyrianna is a mystery. My feelings for her are developing, and I know how she feels toward me; my feelings for you are concrete and have been for months, but I have no idea how you feel."

"What do you feel for me, then?" I asked, my expression and tone remaining soft, gentle, even in spite of the anger she was displaying toward me. I loosened my hold on her wrist to allow her to slip free, to turn away and escape if she so desired, but she didn't move.

"You're an idiot," she muttered after a moment, finally pulling her arm free. "We don't need to be talking about this. You should be looking for Kyrianna."

My arm fell to rest dejectedly on the edge of the tub. "I already told you that I don't care about her," I said calmly, but the mere mention of the girl had me wanting to grind my teeth.

"You just spent months taking care of her," she said, and when I opened my mouth to protest, she added, "It may have been for my sake, but still, you took care of her. Why would you let all of that go to waste now?"

"She's probably just sitting at the bottom of the stairs like she was earlier," I argued, though I knew I'd already lost this battle. "I doubt she's in danger."

"I don't." She slipped a little lower in the water, rubbing her shoulders to rid them of what little blood had accumulated upon them. "You upset her. A lot. She's probably run off to do something stupid."

"If she's run off, how am I supposed to find her?" I asked, a hint of annoyance finally managing to trickle through my stoic dam.

Elyria looked at me and shrugged her bloody shoulders. "I don't know, and I don't care. Just do it."

-?-

"'Just do it'? Really?" I mumbled to myself as I stepped out of the apartment building and onto the sidewalk, empty of all but a few passerby. "How am I supposed to 'just do it'?"

"Hey," a voice said quietly from my left, and I turned to find Bethany smiling sweetly at me from beside the apartment's entrance. "I've been waiting for you to come out."

"Why didn't you just come in?" I asked, turning to fully face her as she stepped out of the shadows. The harsh yellow light from the apartment's lobby fell upon her through the glass door, giving her tan skin a strange tint.

A shrug shifted her shoulders. "I didn't want to intrude," she said, but I knew that she meant, "I didn't want to deal with Elyria."

"How long have you been out here?" I asked, curious.

"Not long," she replied, still smiling up at me in a cute way that Elyria never did. "Five, ten minutes, maybe."

"Did you see Kyrianna leave?" God, I hoped she had.

"Yes, actually," she answered, and her smile faded into a frown. "I tried to say hello, but she completely ignored me and ran off. I think she was crying."

Really? I thought to myself in exasperation. Even you feel bad for her? But not a hint of aggravation entered my tone when I asked, "Which way did she go?"

"That way," she answered, pointing down the sidewalk. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Not really, no," I told her, staring in the direction Kyrianna had gone. What was down there that held any appeal to her? Elyria should've been doing this. She knew the girl much better than I. "It's just dangerous around here at night, and Kyrianna's...well...Kyrianna."

"Would you like some help looking for her?" she asked, still wearing that pitiful, worried frown.

"Thank you, but I think it would be better if I went after her myself," I said, then began to walk.

I heard her take a step after me, then stop and sigh to herself, annoyed. "Will you come see me later?" she called after me when I was already a block away. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"If I have the chance," I answered without looking back, and disappeared around a corner.

-?-

"You shouldn't be out here, you know," a masculine voice said from the end of the sidewalk, and Kyrianna raised her face from her knees. It was the vampire who had helped them before, on that dreadful day, who lived down the street from here, from the house that her family died in. Her heart clenched, and she couldn't bring herself to speak as a new wave of tears started. "It's dangerous," the vampire continued, starting down the walkway toward where she sat upon the front porch steps. She probably should've been afraid, but there were so much worse things than death to worry about. This house was a reminder of that.

"What's wrong?" he asked after a moment, slowly lowering himself onto the step beside her, as if he were trying not to startle her with any sudden movements. It was like she was a rabbit, and he was the big, bad, scary hunter; she was his prey, and he was her predator. But none of this crossed her mind, and she lowered her face to her knees and sobbed silently. "You shouldn't have come back here if it makes you so upset."

"It's...it's not just that," she wept. "It's...everything."

"What's 'everything'?" he asked, and she looked up to find him frowning compassionately down at her. This could all have been a trap, a set-up to get her to trust him so that he could become the predator he truly was, but he was Elyria's friend. He wouldn't do anything to hurt her...right?

"The boy I love doesn't love me," she answered with a pathetic sniffle. "He hates me, and he loves the girl that I love."

He chuckled to himself, and she flinched as if it were a personal attack. "Young love is such a silly thing," he murmured, again more to himself than to her. He looked at her and smiled. "Are you sure you love them? Either of them? Love is a tricky thing when you're young. It often exists when you think it doesn't and doesn't exist when you think it does." He chuckled again and turned his gaze to the night sky. "Well, I suppose that applies at any age. I'm 156, and I still have trouble with it."

"But I know I love them," she said indignantly. "I just know it."

"Of course you do," he said with a patronizing nod. "Of course." His attention remained on the cloudless sky above, and she soon followed his gaze to the more soothing sight.

"Have they sold the house yet?" she asked softly, having noticed no sign on the lawn.

"Yes, actually," he answered, absentmindedly naming each constellation he saw in his mind. "Just yesterday."

She paused for a moment, hesitant, unsure if she wanted to know the answer to her own question, but she finally asked, "Who did they sell it to?"

"See, now, that's what has me worried." She turned her gaze to him, and the deep frown on his pale, handsome face made her start to worry, too.

"Why?" she asked, swallowing back her growing fear. "Is it...bad?"

"I'm not sure yet."

-?-

This doesn't make any sense, I thought to myself as I stepped onto Maple Street, the street that Kyrianna had once lived on, back before everything had gone to hell. Why would she come here? She was already crying. Does she really need to relive her other bad memories, too? But I started down the street without giving the matter another thought. I didn't have to understand her; I just had to find her.

"Is it...bad?" I heard the girl ask hesitantly as I made my way around a bush.

"I'm not sure yet," a deep, familiar voice responded, and I rounded the bush to see Nathan sitting upon the top step beside her, his dark eyes on the calm skies.

"Is what bad?" I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets as I started up the sidewalk toward them. Kyrianna jumped, but began to glare the moment she saw that it was me.

"I don't want to talk to you," she snapped, just as Nathan answered calmly, "Matthias Sampson bought this house."

My eyebrows shot up in an uncharacteristic show of surprise, and I stopped dead several feet down the sidewalk. "Excuse me?"

My question was obviously directed at Nathan, but it was Kyrianna who answered. "I said, I don't want to talk to you," she repeated snottily, then hmphed and turned her eyes to the treetops.

Nathan waited patiently for her to finish, then turned to me with a grim frown and said, "You know him, then?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "He showed up at Elyria's apartment only a few hours ago, in fact."

At that, the man's lips tightened, his eyes narrowing in barely concealed rage. "Why? What did he want from her?"

"He wanted her to talk to Hale for him," I answered. "You know Hale, right? The leader of the werewolves?" He nodded sharply, and I went on. "He wants to end the vampire-werewolf war, and he needs her help."

"Why does he want to end the war?" Nathan got to his feet, expression still subtly betraying his anger, and began to pace up and down the sidewalk. I stayed where I was, though I turned to watch the man as he strode slowly past me, back and forth, back and forth...

"He claims he wants to 'return his empire to its former glory' or some such bull," I answered, eliciting a soft growl of annoyance from the man. "What do you think his motives are?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he grumbled so quietly that I could barely hear him even as he passed me. "It's probably true that he wants to bring back their 'former glory,' but whether he means it in an innocent way or in a way that will recall the days of Terrence's brutal reign, I don't know."

"Why do you think he bought this house?" I questioned, continuing to follow his movements from one end of the walkway to the other.

"Perhaps he wants a safe-house on this side of town," Nathan suggested, his shoulders shifting in a shrug. "Maybe he just wants to revel in James's past evil. He might even be planning to use this as some form of lure for her and Elyria," he said with a quick thrust of his hand in Kyrianna's direction. "For all we know, he could just be getting into the real estate business. There's no way to be sure of his intentions."

"That is worrisome," I murmured, dropping my eyes to the ground. I pondered each suggested idea, approaching them from each and every fathomable angle, but they all seemed just as likely and unlikely as the others. It didn't make any sense.

"Have Elyria feel him out," Nathan suggested once I'd brought my eyes back to his face. He stood still now, watching me from beside the stairs. "I'm sure she could use her powers of persuasion to get something out of him."

"I don't know," I said, brow furrowed in thought. "He didn't seem too eager to let her in or to partake of any of her services."

Nathan cocked an eyebrow at me, a knowing look to his eye. "Eli, it's Elyria. How many vampires have you met who were able to turn her down?" At that, Kyrianna jerked to her feet with an annoyed huff and started down the sidewalk, pushing roughly past both of us. "You're welcome," Nathan called as she started down the road. "Glad I could comfort you earlier." She didn't even look at him. Her face was twisted in such a way that I wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or if she wanted to go on a killing spree. I was hoping it was the latter. At least I could respect a good killing spree.

I sighed, watching her stomp her way down the street. "You should come talk to Elyria sometime," I told Nathan. "She could probably use some of your wisdom."

"Will do," he said with a quick nod, and I started after Kyrianna.

"You're a jerk," she said as soon as I reached her side, "and I don't want to talk to you."

"That's all right with me," I told her, hands still comfortably in my pockets and my eyes focused calmly on the road ahead. "I'm not here to talk. I'm here to make sure you get home in one piece."

I felt her turn her glare to me, but I didn't look at her. "Oh, so you don't care about me at all?" she snapped. "You're just out being Elyria's bitch again?"

"Exactly. So, how about we head back to the apartment so I can stop being your babysitter?" She fell silent, and I turned to find that her glare had faded into a hurt frown.

"Why do you hate me so much?" she asked quietly.

My gaze wandered back to the road ahead, and I ground my teeth together for a brief moment. I really didn't want to talk about this. "I don't hate you," was my emotionless response. "I just don't like you as much as you seem to like me."

"Am I really so annoying to you?" she asked, her voice growing softer by the second.

"You're emotional; I don't like emotions. You're girly; I don't like girly girls." The phrase felt odd in my mouth, but I continued. "You're mildly insane; I only enjoy Elyria's insanity. How could I not be annoyed?" I was forced to a sudden stop when she whipped around and moved to stand in front of me, facing me with a particularly vicious glare. "What are you-?" But then, she brought her leg up, and the sentence ended with a yelp.

It had been years since someone had kicked me in the nuts. I didn't take it well.

I could only fall to the ground, curling into a pathetic little ball as I cradled my unpleasantly throbbing man parts. I wanted to yell at her, to ask what the fuck was wrong with her, but I couldn't make a sound. How did I not see that coming?!

"You're a dick, Eli," she spat, her little white tennis shoe stepping into my line of sight. "Why does everyone think you're so sweet?" I saw her shoe turn, resuming our journey toward the end of the street. "I'll go home. You go do whatever you want, preferably somewhere else." And she disappeared around a corner, leaving me in a crumpled pile upon the asphalt.

I rolled onto my back when I heard hysterical laughter echoing down the street from behind me. I found Nathan a few yards away, doubled over and cackling like a madman. "And I always thought you were such a badass!" I crawled to my knees, fixing the man with the darkest, coldest glare I could muster, but that only made him laugh harder.

It had been years since someone had kicked me in the nuts. I didn't take it well.