CHAPTER 7

Song of The Chapter: Fearless ~TaylorSwift

Chapter: 7

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PERSPECTIVE: Aizea - The girl that hears after dark

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Evelyne is just as excited as I predicted. She's all but bouncing on her toes as I meet her in the school grounds. No hugs today. Only questions. So many that I actually start feeling guilty for pestering Lloyerd with questions every night - questions that he is bound to not answer.

Till last night. I now know his name; and the thought makes a victorious feeling course through my veins.

"How was the date? Did he pull the chair out for you? I hope he didn't sit before you! What did you guys have? Did he get you something cooked by his mother? Did you actually see his mother? Oh wow, if you did! -"

Before she can ask anything more, I plug my index fingers into my ears. The gesture luckily makes her stop, and frown. I start her tonnes of questions one-by-one.

"The date was nice. We didn't sit in chairs - we sat on a mat, by the lake. He didn't sit before me, because we sat together. His mother had baked the buns herself and she's a wonderful baker, putting Sheroa to shame, I have to say. I didn't see his mother because we didn't go to his place. Happy?"

I raise a sarcastic eyebrow at her and she wraps her arms around me.

"I'm so happy for you", Evelyne whisper-yells in my ear, but as she pulls away from the hug, all I see in her eyes is a strange gravity. She's worried about me. More specifically, she's worried about my future as Andre's. She's worried that just like none of us ever see the Andre's mother, she'll never get to see me again once I'm with Andre, officially.

But I won't let that happen. I can never let go of my independence - no matter the price or the prize.

I give her a reassuring smile - a smile that she needs at the moment, a smile that tells her that I will never change. For I am no nefarious shifter.

I am dragged out of the comfortable yet pregnant silence by Andre's soft call, "Aizea." The softness is suddenly so loud that it feels oddly dangerous to be this close to him, even when the sun is up. But, he is right behind me and I can feel his warmth through the layers of fabrics and thin air separating our skins.

I turn around to face him, my apprehension building.

There is nothing malicious about these clear blue eyes - just like the clear autumn sky, or like the deep, blue ocean - only care and affection. I blink, as if that will help me look into some probably non-existent malice in those clear eyes.

I do know better, though. I know what the fall of the night morphs him into. But, what if love is all that is required to conquer even the beast?

I myself am utterly shocked at the confusing turn of my line of thoughts. I have no idea why I am suddenly painting Andre as the good hero of this story, when I very well know that he can be nothing but the villain of the tale.

I stop thinking. That's the best that I can do in order to stop my thoughts from running too wild and confusing me way too much.

"So you're coming tomorrow, right?", Andre asks me hopefully during the lunch break, as the three of us sit under a falling maple - thanks to the fact that he and Evelyne finally seem to be coming to terms with each other.

"Why?", I ask almost reflexively, and the very next moment a string of 'sorry's spill out of my lips. How could I forget the most important day of Andre's life? Andre's shocked expression is quickly replaced with a smile as I say, "Of course."

However, it does take great efforts on my part to let the 'Of course' rip its way out of me, when every instinct of mine screams 'Of course NOT'.

"Thanks for always being there.", he whispers, and I smile and nod in acknowledgement. My brain isn't even working enough to say 'Ditto', or something like that.

All my thoughts are now clouded with fear. Fear is no foreign emotion to me, but I hate it with a passion. That's why althroughout the day every fibre of being had been asking me to choose to finally grab his hand tonight. It will even be an easy choice now - now that I know his name.

But that's not the real choice - the real choice is the one of leaving behind my friends and my family. I would love to leave behind the nightly terrors, but what about the pleasant experiences and memories that the days often bring and create? I will have to talk to him about this tonight.

He has never betrayed me till date, and I can only hope that he'll be a neutral adviser tonight as well.

Still, the old raw fear is clawing its way out of the darker corners of my heart. What if all my earlier fears prove to be true tomorrow? What if Andre's shifter finally takes complete control and...

I stop my own thoughts on their tracks for the second time in a while.

Today, as I hold onto Sheroa's hand while exiting school, I make a deliberate mistake of turning around.

The sheer suspicion brewing in the coppery-bluish depths of Andre's eyes look like they are almost confirmed. And suddenly, he takes a long and deep inhale - as if trying to sniff me out across the distance. I make the second mistake - not deliberate - of waving to him in a failed attempt of thinning the thick air, and then quickly turning back. I can only imagine how much larger a whiff he has got than he initially was asking for.

I don't dwell on it as I walk home and go through the motions of the evening, before finally seeking the comfortable refuge of my soft bed and blue quilt.

****

I can smell the tension in the air as if it's a physical stench. It makes me stumble a step back.

But, I am caught right before my back hits the ground. He helps me stand with care that makes me shiver. His touch is electric but the care and love seeping through his actions almost feel like he is handling some touch-me-not glass.

I frown. I hate being weak, or even being treated like I am weak. But that's all that life is giving me.

"I know", his smooth cadence is slightly pained, as if he can not only read my mind, but feel my pain too.

I give him an incredulous stare and his features melt into a smile that can win thousands of hearts - mine included - and light up the night sky.

It's almost as pretty as Andre's, bit prettier yet.

How stupid is it to compare them!?, I scold myself.

"How?", I ask him softly. "You are my Adelfí Psychí, princess. Of course I can read every minute change in your expressions and their respective implications.", he says it as if it is the most obvious thing in the whole world.

But, there we go again!

"What is Adelfí Psychí?", I ask him, honestly curious. A flash of pain crosses his bright amber eyes, darkening them a shade. "You'll know princess, you'll know this and a lot more. But I can't tell you anything before you take my hand to your real home. I can tell you anything before we enter Jameille."

Jameille!

"But isn't that place what we call The Forge Of The Evils?", I ask, my pitch rising.

"Not we, princess, they. Those vile creatures have nothing better to do than calling Jameille, and us, names.", he grits out the words with venomous rage.

Lloyerd is incredibly handsome - more so than any man I have ever seen in my seventeen years of life, Andre included - but when he is furious, rage morphs all the handsomeness in something vicious and scary.

But, I am not afraid. I am not afraid of the boy that I have seen growing up with me through every night's dream. I am not afraid of the person that knows me better than any one else. I am not afraid of my biggest support system. And, I'm very certainly not afraid of the electricity that his touch is capable of eliciting, or those dazzling amber eyes.

"Lloyerd.", my voice is low with a commanding undertone that makes me sigh and then take a deep breath. In, out, in, out - I count on my fingertips as he does a calming breathing regulation, and when he finally opens his tightly shit eyes again, he does look a lot calmer.

A smirk pulls at one corner of his lips - like, he is privy to some internal joke that I am clueless about. I don't like it.

"It's not an easy decision for me to make.", I tell him, letting the sliver of vulnerability make itself visible in my tone.

"I know.", he says with understanding, but not defeat. The smirk had lessened but it stays. I don't mind it that much now. It looks good on him. "But you will take my hand, princess, I just know it."

I am blown away by the confidence in his words. What makes him so confident that I am going to go with him? What makes him think that I will choose him over Zaayes? And, what him know that I have no other way?

I don't say anything for a long while, as we stare at each other. The wind whistles softly as we are almost pulled into each-other's gazes. Why does it feel like it is the last time we are sharing our last dream together?

"Is this out last dream together?", I ask him. The light in his amber eyes dim. "Yes.", he says, but agony is evident in his voice.

The agony makes me rethink. Had he been happy, I would have thought that now on we will be able to meet outside of the dreams and thus these dreams will, finally, no longer be a necessity. But, the agony speaks otherwise.

This may very well be the last time that I am seeing him.

And it all depends on my one decision.

I don't like making decisions. So, I won't. I'll let time decide. Tomorrow will decide everything.

Somewhere deep down, I know it as a fact that if I see the day-after-tomorrow's sun, alive, then I will have to take his hand.

Still, for once, I let my survival instincts take a momentary back-seat. For once, and for the final once.

I hope so.

"Why have you told me your name?" I have been curious for quite a while. He didn't tell me his name out of his own free accord. It means something bigger.

"So that you can call me if and when you need to. But, apparently the offer is valid only till tomorrow night.", he finishes with a playful wink, trying to lighten the atmosphere. But it doesn't work.

If I don't finally choose him tomorrow, I can never even call him after that. I will very probably perish hopelessly.

No, I won't!, my subconscious fights back.

Yes, I won't.

I look up and deep into his dazzling amber eyes. I know that my eyes shine with determination and he sees it. His face is lit up by a soft smile that makes my heart melt, before, abruptly, we are both expelled out of our small private bubble - for a final time.

****

I jerk awake. My palms and feet are clammy and I slowly move the quilt away from me.

I look around, trying to memorize my room - the room that has been my home for all these years. But, now that I feel my real home calling me, I'll let my survival instincts choose as and when required.

But I know something for sure. Lloyerd is the only person, who I'll choose over my own selfish motif of survival, any day.

Today is eerily silent - like the calm before the storm. I decide to take a small bag. Just in case.

No one is awake, I sense, as I arrange a few necessities into the small sling-bag. A small water-bottle that always rests on my bed-side-table, along with a paper-wrap with four cookies. A candle and a box of matches. A paper and a pencil.

That's all.

I take out a crimson summer-dress. It is slightly flowy and fits me well. I quietly open the door and make my way to the washroom. Today, I take sufficient amounts of hair-wash and wash my golden-brown locks through and through. The smell of the minty body-wash pervades the air. I vigorously towel-dry my hair and let the lotion moisturize my skin plentily. Then I slip on the dress and finally step out with the night-wears in my hands.

Still, no one around.

I go to my room, keep away the night-wears in a laundry bag, and begin combing my hair.

I start humming. But, this song, I'm hearing for the first time, the very first time.

In the wind,

I choose you, dearest.

In the wind,

As you hold me, dearest.

We let the wind wrap around,

In our own secret world - and it's just us.

It's just us,

Your burning eyes and my burning love,

It's just us,

With the depths of your passion

And the depths of my trust.

I only hope you told me,

I hope you told me more than your name,

More than just those eyes,

More than just no lies,

More than just our destiny.

I only hope you told me, who am I to you,

Dearest, who am I to you.

We let the darkness swallow us,

In our own secret world - and it's just us.

It's just us,

Your caring touch and my racing heart,

It's just us,

With the depths of your care

And the depths of my trust.

I only hope you hold me,

I hope you hold me in your arms,

More than just those touches,

More than just almost-kisses,

More than just our warmth.

I only hope you told me, who am I to you,

Dearest, who am I to you.

In the wind,

I hold you, dearest.

In the wind,

As you tell me, dearest.

Who am I to you...

As I finish singing, I realize that I just made that up. For him. Yes, for him.

Because...

Because, I have already chosen him. But, no. I won't let my guilt put me down for the whole rest of my life.

I'll make my own self see the darkness that I'm so scared of.

Because, I won't let fear tarnish my soul any longer.

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