Page 25 of Little Wing
“Because she wasn’t saved,” Mateo finished for me without having to use the word that blared in my head.
Murdered. Lotus was murdered by her own brother.
I nodded. Yes, it was her brother’s weakness as a young vampire without anyone to guide him that resulted in this, but it didn’t mean that I couldn’t stop picturing the scene that Lotus painted when she shared this part of herself with me. And to see her smile moments after sharing that… I couldn’t ignore my desire to never let her feel that type of hurt again. Whatever else lingered in between the lines of her story and timid smile, I was sure she would reveal to me when she was truly ready. I’d wait as long as she needed.
The reason that I wanted Lotus to come to Little Wing was not to flaunt vampiric culture and community, but to show her it could be better. That what she experienced was not all that there was to our existence.
Mateo moved around the room, tucking chairs under tables. These were the moments that kept reminding us that the dream of Little Wing would soon become what our nest once was to us.
Home. Community. Family.
We liked to imagine young vampires gathering, creating their own modern nests to grow and bond with. Yet, each time I thought of them having their chance at success in this new world for us, I couldn’t help but think about Lotus. I imagined what this space could become for her, too.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, giving Mateo a dismissive wave when I heard him sigh loudly in response. He knew damn well who I was texting and I didn’t give a fuck what I looked like. My fingers quickly tapped against the screen; thoughts of Lotus were becoming my most welcome daydream.
Hey Lo! Long day at Little Wing. How are things on your end?
Only a few minutes went by before my phone vibrated. There it was. The tone that I could almost hear between her written words.
Not bad. Just finished with an event and now I’m getting ready to head home.
Silas?
Hmm?
What's on your mind right now?
I stared at the phone, picturing those words leaving her full lips. I loved watching the way they curled into sweet smiles and spread wide to express emotions so animated I could hardly fight back my own grin. She was an infection I never wanted to be cured of. My eyes continued to study the words lit up on the small screen. It wasn’t difficult to think back to the first night I saw her at the bar and then again at the bookstore. She was closed off, elusive—a fucking mystery. Now she was asking questions, sharing details of her day without it feeling like pulling teeth. She wasn’t the woman I thought she was. She was something entirely different. Spectacular.
I tapped my response quickly before the three blinking dots appeared.
Just thinking about the first time I saw you, and how you're more incredible than I could have imagined.
Hoping I can see you soon. Been missing that smile. But… what about you? What's on your mind right now? Right this very second.
I watched the blinking dots appear then disappear at least a dozen times. Maybe I overstepped, or maybe she was busy. I tried to keep my eyes off the screen and busied myself with unwrapping more furniture, as if staring my phone down was keeping Lotus from responding faster. I couldn’t believe how glued I was to that thing ever since she started messaging me. I used to make fun of Mateo for doing the same thing. And if someone had told me I’d be like this even just a few months ago, I’d never have believed them.
But she was… different. Different from anyone I’ve ever met, especially in Fairhaven.
It was the cute little facts and ice breakers she sent every few hours that evolved into daily conversations learning about what the other liked. I learned Lotus loved sunrises when she was younger and that her favorite era that she lived through was the 80’s. It was the little bits and pieces that were helping me fill in the collage that was Lotus Evans. Oh yeah, Evans. That was her full name, and I didn’t even need to learn that from her friends or by reading her mail. Man, if I didn’t stop making those jokes, she’d actually think I was stalking her.
Just as my mind was winding down from the anxious anticipation, I watched my phone light up.
“Alright… be cool. It’s not like you’ve never received a text from a cute girl…” I muttered under my breath. Only this cute girl was a woman who was flooding my mind before bed, first thing in the morning, in the shower and—fuck. I picked up my phone only to squeeze my eyes shut and run my hand through my hair at the discovery of what she sent. Fucking hell, she was going to be my undoing.
I was thinking about the night you kissed me.
Sharing even a small fragment of who I was and where I came from felt like a breath of fresh air. Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I ever told anyone about my life. I couldn’t deny the relief that I felt when I shared such a delicate piece of my story with Silas and all he did was listen. If he did speak, it was to offer comfort and understanding.
Though it was not the full truth, it was something. I suppose revealing my story in its entirety would perhaps drag me straight to hell. But these bits and pieces just made me feel like I wasn’t concealing everything. I shared what I could and it felt amazing to be heard.
Now, if I shared it all, I anticipated a reaction similar to what I heard outside of Fairhaven: the threats of violence that I heard for years, all because of who my maker was. I wanted to be free of that for as long as possible—forever, ideally. The truth of my identity, my brother, and his shame would have to remain tucked away.
Truthfully, if I had it my way, I would snip that part of my life out and never speak of it. I’d never let that story resurface, not after all the damage that my brother left in his wake.
But beside the stress that lingered, I chose to focus on the confident edge that meeting and speaking with Silas was giving me. I felt moreengaged with my friends. I almost didn’t mind all the book events we were hosting. Also talking about our future bookstore didn’t feel like something so far out of reach. And at the Nomad? I finally asked Kait directly for a glass of O negative, and even crimson!
Whatever this thing between me and Silas was—I couldn’t ignore that he reminded me what it was to be alive.
