When you walk away, I count the steps that you take.

New York used to be more vibrant; there used to be a sensation of overwhelming bliss when Lucy walked the streets of the city. Then again, there'd also been a swagger to her step that was missing these days. Her grandmother hadn't been pleased when a tired Lucy had appeared on her doorstep weary from a long flight and broken from her farewells. However, the wise old woman hadn't said much, and had let Lucy take her old bedroom for as long as she needed it. Lucy was grateful for that quiet acceptance of whatever had been done to make Lucy feel the need to return to New York. Yet New York didn't seem to hold all of the answers that the small girl had been hoping for, there was no trick that had made her whole again, nothing that had filled the emptiness she'd been experiencing for such a long, long time.

Her old Grandmother worried- almost more than she had before she sent Lucy away. At least when the girl had lived with her the first time, she'd had the confidence that she would walk out of any situation that her troublesome nature would expose her to. Now Lucy walked with a gait that wasn't boastful- which might have been a good thing, but no one was certain. The only things the child did were work on her correspondance classes, call her brother, and take long walks that kept her out at all hours. There wasn't anything that the older woman could do to keep Lucy in; someone had taught the child to pick locks, and once Lucy even took her door off of the hinges so that she could get out. In the face of such desparation and efficiency, Clary had no recourse but to let her child wander out on the streets, and pray that she was as tough now as she had been then.

In truth, Lucy was probably a fair bit tougher than she had been before she'd left. She was silent when she could manage it- though she was always able to falsify some cheeriness for Henrick's sake. She honestly just didn't care anymore- her mind was swirling with thoughts of a certain male, of the young woman he flirted with constantly and how much she had always wished that he could have turned this attention on her. She'd done everything she could think of to get over him, but her troublesome heart would have none of it. Not even, it seemed, transplanting herself elsewhere to get over him. The end result was a numb feeling that coated everything she did, every single action and every single thought. She wondered if the people she encountered would notice that about her- none of them had bothered her, or even really jostled her on her walks; given that most of them were in the evening, this suited her well. Occasionally she would instigate a fight. It was the only thrill that she could get her being to respond to anymore. She didn't even touch things.

Today was one of those days she was looking for a fight. It was pulsing in her veins, the desire to go to that place when the adrenaline made her feel alive. She wanted a tough fight, something that she wouldn't walk away from unscathed. She wanted the sensation of flesh slamming against flesh, wanted the pain to mingle with a triumphant feeling of ecstasy. She'd become something of a junkie for violence in the past couple of weeks, each fix getting progressively more and more violent. She wanted to find the perfect fight, and so she waited and waited. Her moment came sometime after two o'clock in the morning, when she encountered a drunken male man-handle his lady friend. All of his male friends laughed at the poor woman's expense when she was slung to the ground by her escort. Lucy knew that this was the one she'd been looking for. She took personal offense to any situation that could harm a lady.

Excluding herself, of course. Lucy had given up on anything remotely ladylike. Moving as quickly as she knew how, Lucy delivered a punch to the back of the brute's arm, just above the elbow joint which caused him to immediatly release the woman in his grasp. As the furious man and his crew closed in on Lucy, she made certain to put her back to the wall, a fierce smile on her lips- more teeth baring than anything friendly. It was a flurry of punching and kicking- most of it delivered from the trained young woman who fought in the center, keeping the wall at her back. She ducked one punch to her head, and slid a very painful jab across that assailant's ribcage. Another attacker had flanked her meanwhile, and got her squarely in the back. Lucy went down and rolled, scissoring her ankles around his as she did so, bringing him down and allowing his head to slam against the wall with a sickening crack. One attacker down. One of the others- the one she'd punched in the ribs fled the scene.

Lucy was already wheezing from the blow to her back, but she didn't give any indication of her discomfort. There were still two men waiting for their chance at her. One came armed with a piece of wood he'd found littering the alley to their right. Lucy dodged his first swing and caught the second painfully in her hands. The third took her full side, and she felt something rather painful pop. Then she wrenched the wood from his hands, and tossed it to the side. She had foolishly paid no attention to the other man, who had come up behind her, and come down hard on her collar bone with a bit of metal. That, too, cracked sickeningly, and Lucy felt dizziness overwhelming her. That right arm was out of commission, unless she needed to fight that much pain to continue. She moved warily away from the man holding the pipe, watching him cautiously. Then she rushed him, tripping him up with a side-blow to the knee, though she took a blow to her own thigh as he fell, and she crashed down on his back. With a grunt, she grabbed the back of his hair, and slammed his forehead into the ground. He went still.

Lucy didn't have time to ponder whether or not she'd killed this man, for she was hurled to her feet and then into a wall by her last-standing opponent. A low groan escaped her, but she rolled along the wall until she faced the man again. A knife was held in his hand, and it was descending on her from her left side. Locking a scream behind her teeth, Lucy flung her left hand up to catch his wrist, trying not to pass out and keep the knife away from her. She angled her body, and flung her right fist at his throat with all of the strength she had left. He grunted and staggered back. The girl opened her mouth to scream, but he smashed the back of his hand into her face, which slammed her head against the stone wall. As the world spun around her in a sick fashion, she slid down the wall and stayed on the ground, heedless of the man who stabbed her to be sure she stayed down, before collecting his weeping lady-friend, and walking away. He left two men down on the ground, and little Lucy bleeding to death as she feebly tried to put enough pressure on her side to keep from dying.

She realised, quite suddenly, that she had so much to live for.

Secrets - part 2

Things had all happened in a whirlwind after Morgan had arrived; the ambulance had been called, as had Jonathan. Morgan had declined riding with Madeline, and instead had bundled Ainsley into a coat, leaving her feeling like a small child once again, and it was all she could do not to just cling to Morgan. Shock had set in, and the usually independent girl didn’t fuss when Morgan brought her out to the car and buckled her in. She couldn’t remember later what he said to her, but she knew that it was soothing, and that the sound of her Uncle’s voice slowly pulled her from that scary place her mind had retreated to. By the time they reached the hospital, she was aware of the presence of her father and older sister. Isobel hugged her sister, and Ainsley felt strange, with her sister’s pregnant stomach pressed against her. It felt sick that her mother was so frail and her sister so swollen. Reuben hadn’t been able to come with Isobel, and so Ainsley soon took charge of little Dawson, who didn’t understand what was happening; only that it was scary. But even still, Ainsley couldn’t feel anything. She was numb, and the weight of her nephew in her arms reminded her of holding her mother in a similar manner hours later. As soon as she could, she passed Dazzy on to Morgan and fled, pleading the excuse of the bathroom.

However, Ainsley didn’t stop at the bathroom, or even at the front door. Instead, she walked right outside, into the light drizzle that had begun to trickle from the sky. She wasn’t in the mood to be around people, wasn’t in the mood to deal with condolences. She walked as hard as her long legs would take her, striding away from the hospital, straight to the park that some generous government official had decided would be nice to have near the hospital. It was quiet, and it was soothing. Ainsley needed some peace, and she wasn’t sure how else to achieve it. By the time she reached the small fish pond in the centre of the park, the rain was a steady sheet that was pouring over her. She shivered in her hooded jacket, recalling how she always seemed to be drawn to water when upset- as she had when she’d first gone off to boarding school. Ainsley wasn’t certain just how long she’d been standing there, when abruptly the water ceased to fall on her. Ainsley jumped slightly, and craned her neck to see who had extended their umbrella over her.

Christian must have come straight from work, as he was wearing a nice button-up shirt underneath a wool coat. Ainsley just stared at her brother for a long minute before moving closer to him, and laying her head against his shoulder. She was grateful- not for the first time, that Christian had taken his height from his father, or this would have been harder to do. For a few minutes, the older brother said nothing to his sister, just letting her come as close to clinging to him as Ainsley ever did. When finally he spoke, Christian chose not to speak of the incident between his mother and baby sister; he knew that Ainsley would speak about it when she was ready. Talking now would only make it harder for her to process.

“Ains, you’re making it hard to eat my pretzel.” The girl made a small sound that would pass for a choked laugh, and pulled back so that he could eat his pretzel.
“Sorry, Chris.”
“No problem- want a bite?” He held the treat out, and let her take a small bite, and he smiled as he could begin to see the change. Her eyes were a bit livelier, and she was eating the first thing he knew of since their mother had collapsed. When her stomach gurgled, he held out the rest of the pretzel with a grin, and he watched her take the whole thing.

“How did you know where to find me?”
“A rather lucky guess, as it turns out.”
“Hmph.”
“One of the doctors was worried about you, and told Jon where you went.”
“So Dad sent you?”
“I chose to come.”
It took Ainsley a few moments to process that, as well as to eat the rest of the pretzel that Christian had picked up from a vendor on the way to check in on his sister.

“I’ve never seen Mom so weak.”
“I haven’t seen her yet.”
“I shouldn’t make you worry more.”
“I’m going to worry anyway, Jellybean; about you or Mom either one.”
“I was holding her, Chris. Holding her easier than it is to hold Dawson.” Her voice broke, and Christian pulled her close again. “Why didn’t they tell me? Why wouldn’t they just let me know she was sick? I-I don’t understand!”

Christian didn’t have any words of comfort; he didn’t understand either.
“I don’t know, Jellybean. But let’s get out of the rain. Don’t want you ending up in the bed next to Mom.” He shrugged out of his coat, wrapping it around Ainsley who was thoroughly soaked. Then he turned her back towards the hospital, his arm firmly wrapped around her waist.

Secrets pt. 1

Ainsley wasn't used to the house being so quiet all the time. Jake had moved out several years ago when he went to college, leaving Ainsley alone with her parents. Her father wasn't nearly as quiet at home as he was in public, at least not usually, and his suddenly suspicious silence worried Ainsley to bits. Likewise, her mother had never been quiet in any situation and her constant exhaustion left the seventeen year old even more worried that Jonathan's silence. Even more frightening, was the way that both parents seemed to be blocking her out. Madeline always had a smile for her, but it was always tired, and distracted. Jonathan always answered her queries with a hug and a promise that everything would turn out. That answer did not satisfy the girl who didn't even know what was wrong to begin with. Even Uncle Morgan wasn't saying a word, though the fear in his blue eyes did nothing to reassure his god-daughter.

It didn't seem that Jake knew anything, either. Ainsley was racking up quite the bill on her cell-phone, with her late-night calls to her older brother. Neither one wanted to worry their older siblings. Isobel was pregnant again, and Christian was busy with the restaurant. Besides, Ainsley was afraid that they would go straight to their parents, and despite wanting to know, she didn't want to cause any more stress to them. So rather than linger in the terrified silence at home, the kind of silence that felt like the whole place was holding its breath, Ainsley was spending more and more time with her almost-boyfriend, Avery. She was certain that he was waiting until she turned eighteen to make anything official, but his door was always open to her, for which she was grateful. Ainsley knew she could tell him anything, and he was the one who had to listen constantly to the softly-spoken observations that her mother was losing weight, and that her skin was turning gray. She wasn't supposed to notice, she knew, but the day she was cleaning her parents' bathroom, and found rather long and thick clumps of her mother's hair in the shower, Ainsley began to snoop.

She spent hours in the library, poring over medical journals, trying to discover what the matter was with her mother. She took to rummaging through Madeline's desk, and even attempting to follow her mother the few times she went out. Still, Ainsley couldn't seem to figure out exactly what it was that was causing her mother to be so ill. It was killing Ainsley that she couldn't discover what was wrong with Madeline, but there wasn't much more she could do. Her parents were determined to keep their secrets.

One day, Ainsley was home alone with her mother. Jonathan had to be somewhere, and Morgan was meant to come, but was stuck in traffic. Between the two men's absences, Ainsley felt the unspoken need to watch out for her mother. She was in the kitchen, trying to prepare something that she felt her mother might be able to keep down. As she stirred her mother's favourite soup, she heard a clatter from the living room. Immediatly the girl turned the stove off, and rushed away to see what the matter with her mother was. The girl's mother lay sprawled on the floor, having fallen while retrieving a book from an end table. Ainsley knelt by her mother, carefully checking to make sure she was alright before lifting her helplessly into her arms. It was a pitiful sight, the daughter holding the mother in her arms. Ainsley had outgrown her mother years ago in stature, and her athletic build easily lifted her rather frail mother. Shock was overwhelming the poor girl, crying softly, and holding her mother. Should she call the emergency room? She wasn't even sure what had happened.

Madeline groaned, turning her face against her daughter's shoulder as Ainsley faced the front door, having heard the sound of keys rattling in the lock. The door swung open, to reveal a rather hassled-looking Morgan, who stopped cold, his gaze fixed on his god-daughter's tear-stained face.

"Why didn't anyone tell me, Uncle Morgan?"

Never let them hurt you.

There was always something about Dantalaois. We met in a bar in Prague, and I just knew that he was trouble. No man dresses like that without being a mischief maker, but from my lonely corner of the bar, I wasn’t anything but amused. I knew right away that he wasn’t human. We non-human species can usually spot each other pretty quickly, and I wanted to see what would become of this demonic manwhore that was leaning across the bar counter to whisper into a woman’s ear. Her laughter was sickening, like the texture of vegetable oil, bland and slimy. It was with that oozing background noise that the vision flickered across my eyes: Dantalaois, in a back alley, being raped by the woman and her posse of grotesque men. Something told me to change the future, and so I did.

I didn’t know then, that I would be gaining a best friend.

After I saved him that night, we travelled together. He found out that I was a thief, and he made a wonderful partner in crime. He has a charming tongue, and could sweet-talk a tiger out of its stripes. He is all flash, and I am all danger. But even off the job, Danta is the perfect friend. He can always cheer me when I’m down, and he is always good for a hug when I need one. Yes, Danta is a wonderful friend. He’s a good lover, too. Not that we would consider ourselves to be lovers collectively, but there are times when I can’t help but label him that way. I’d never hold him back- after all, I don’t believe in clipping people’s wings, but while he’s mine I enjoy him, and when he isn’t I can still smile and savour his friendship.

That’s why I’m doing this. If my mother or the Harpy Council knew that I have given him the amulet, they would slaughter him for defiling our most ancient artifact. Even the mates of the council are not allowed to touch it. But I won’t let them hurt Dantalaois. I won’t ever let anyone touch him. Even if it means killing my own mother, in the least honourable way that I can find. After all, as Dantalaois says, that’s why I have wings. At least, that’s what I will keep telling myself forever, once I’ve killed my mother in cold blood.

Because I will never say it out loud, never admit it to anyone. But I love Dantalaois.

Oh, but be prepared to bleed.

The girl was back. According to Cori’s calculations, the girl had been in Anthony’s room four times in the past two weeks, and no other woman had been in there at all. As far as Cori was concerned, this was a bad sign. Cori always knew when the girl was in Anthony’s rooms. She could hear her brother’s voice, and nothing in response. The girl couldn’t talk without putting people to sleep, which Cori considered to be a good thing. If the girl could talk to her, and tried to, Cori would be tempted to do something that would only upset Anthony.

Normally when Anthony’s company bothered Cori, she could put on her headphones and go back to work with her experiments. Not when the girl was there. Nothing could drive the silence out of her head, but the silence drove Cori instead. Without a word, or putting anything away, or picking anything up, Cori left. Rain was drumming against the roof, and Cori wished that it could wash her mind clean from the hateful thoughts that swirled in the familiar emptiness. Tonight there was no relief.

There was only one place Cori could go in this dimension that hadn’t been ruined for her, that the girl couldn’t take away. Pushing out of a door and into the rain, Cori made her stumbling way to her greatest friend in the world. It was still quiet, but a silence filled with water, and movement, and cleanliness rather than the ugly hatred that was swamping her at every turn.

“Ezra.” Slowly Cori clambered onto the base of the forgotten statue that lurked in the shadows of the school. Fortunately, he was here, and she perched at the base of the statue, her head leaning against his leg- mindless of his undressed state. “I am a very screwed up individual.”

It wasn’t a plea for pity, but rather a cold fact. She sighed, rubbing her cheek against the wet metal, as though she were seeking comfort from the inanimate object. Which, she supposed, she was. “I’m broken, you know. It happened when Mom fell down the stairs. I could have reached her. Could have stepped down one step, and grabbed her hand. But when I stepped, I tripped the line. I stepped out of the dimension, and Mom died because of me. That lady laying in bed isn’t my Mom. The fall changed her.”

Cori dropped her arms, filled with disgust and shame. “On the inside, I’m still nine. I can’t seem to grow up, or even want to. I’m like stupid Peter Pan. I can’t do experiments- I don’t even know how! I only ever made it through physics. I can’t even read that well. My notes might as well be gibberish. I wish Anthony were still thirteen sometimes. I wish I could be nineteen.” With an irritated motion, she flung the lab coat she wore to the ground, shivering in the cold rain.

“I knew I couldn’t be a good student, or a normal adult. I just wanted to be a good sister, you know? I wanted Anthony to be proud of me, so I helped him with the girls. I made his little black book, and buy him stuff, and wash his sheets. I worried that he would get sick. I wanted him to find love. I never wanted him to have a reason to leave me.” Cori slid off of the statue, her dark blue eyes as watery as everything else that was outside.

“He loves the girl. I know he does, because until the girl showed up nobody knew Anthony better than me.” She sniffled, rubbing her arms. “He wants me to like her. He wants me to be happy. But I can’t, Ezra. Because for me to be happy, he can’t be. I’m only good at being a sister. That means he has to be happy, and so I have to leave.”

Cori reached up, her hand caressing her friend’s leg. “I bet you think you’ve been violated again. I only wanted to say goodbye, ‘cause I have to go home. I need to learn how to grow up. Anthony needs me to. Maybe someday, I can come back to see my nieces and nephews. Maybe by then I can love you like I want to. For now, though, I have to find a way to fix me. I can’t stay nine forever.”

Reaching into her back pocket, Cori produced a letter wrapped in plastic, Anthony’s name scrawled across the front. “Can you see that he gets this?”
Then she smiled, stepped back, and disappeared.

---------

Anthony,
I’m glad you found her. Really. I decided to go home, by the way. I needed you to be happy, and you needed me to grow up. I can’t do that around you. I love you, you know. I love you because you’re the greatest big brother in the world, and you didn’t mind that I was broken. Enjoy the girl. Love her, and treat her right. I know you can. Give Mom and Dad my love at Christmas. Sometime when you’re sleeping, I’ll drop by with my present for them.
My love always,
Agatha.
P.S. Give the girl my room. Just tell her to mind the Chemistry set. I can’t remember what I put in there last.

Jellybean

The snow was falling thickly across the city, and though she knew in a few hours it would be brown and gross, Ainsley couldn’t help but feel that it was beautiful. Snuggling into her coat to brace herself from the cold, she strode across the seven city blocks that were between the apartment of her oldest brother, and the apartment she had just begun to rent. The pleasant walk and relatively short distance were the reasons that Ainsley’s parents had allowed the eighteen year old to move out of the family home. Naturally, Madeline had let her baby go with much weeping, and even Jonathan hadn’t denied the sadness that passed over his face. Still, Ainsley knew it was about time that her parents had the place to themselves, and she’d promised to see Christian at least twice a week, and to come home for Sunday dinner.

Tonight, she was walking to her brother’s for dinner. Ainsley had always been close to this brother, in spite of the nine-year age difference between them. The grocer’s bag filled with chocolate and marshmallows swung easily in hand, and her pace quickened as she neared the proper building. Christian was blessed with a small fireplace in his apartment, and Ainsley planned on roasting s’mores. She’d not inherited her brother’s gourmet cooking talent, and so she nearly always brought something simple when it was her turn to provide dessert. The doorman nodded at Ainsley with a smile, knowing that any greeting he passed to the quiet woman would be returned with only a smile in kind, anyway. Ainsley took the stairs, and raced up the three flights- thanks to track and field, she barely lost her breath, and Christian greeted her at the door to his apartment with a loose hug.

“How was your walk?”

“Pleasant.”

Christian took her bag while she removed her coat, and she could nearly feel his perceptive gaze lingering over her waistline. Ainsley raised her eyebrow, and her brother shrugged helpless, saying only the word ‘Mom’. Ainsley knew what he meant- their mother wanted to make certain that there was enough meat on little Ainsley’s bones. Ainsley rolled her eyes, hanging up her coat, and then following Christian into the kitchen, perching on the island stool. The kitchen was beautiful, and state-of-the-art. Cookbooks were occasionally scattered here and there, but Ainsley knew that her supper hadn’t come from any of them- Christian liked to try his new recipes on her. Unlike his twin, Ainsley wouldn’t cushion the truth from him, but neither would she rip the cooking to pieces.

It was only a matter of a few moments before Christian set two plates on the island, one in front of Ainsley, and one in front of himself. It was some sort of chicken, a lovely and bright coloured sauce, and a rice pilaf concoction. Christian watched as Ainsley lifted her fork and knife, holding it over the plate, before she paused and glanced at his face. Christian, well-used to the silent communication, laughed at her expression.

“I won’t tell you what’s in it, until you’ve tried it.” The girl cut some of the chicken, and took a bite. For a few minutes, there was only the sound of her thoughtful chewing.

“Don’t bother to tell me, Chris, just get me a glass of water.”

The faucet cut on over the sound of her brother’s laughter, and the meal continued with continued laughter and conversation- most of it surrounding Christian’s employees and staff at ‘Madelynn’s’ which was the restaurant Christian had named for their mother- and also, which Ainsley frequented. After the meal was finished, and the two siblings had playfully washed the dishes, they settled in Christians lounge, in front of the fireplace.

“So, tell me. How are things with Izzy and Reuben?” Ainsley asked, sticking a marshmallow on the end of the roasting stick. Christian chuckled, watching the methodical and smooth movements of his baby sister, amused at the fact that of all of the friends and family surrounding Reuben Hughes, only Ainsley didn’t refer to him by a nickname.

“They’re alright. Little Dawson was drawing pictures on your invitation to his birthday party next week. He says you promised to be there.”

“My nephew’s fourth birthday is hardly something I can miss.”

Christian chuckled, adding his own marshmallow to the fireplace, nudging his elbow against Ainsley. “Have you gotten a good look at Isobel’s waistline lately? I think she’s trying to hide it from us that she’s expecting again.”

“She’s hardly hiding anything.”

“You know for sure?”

“She promised me I could come up with the middle name.”

Christian’s face was surprised, and he blinked a few times. Often he shared things with Ainsley that he didn’t tell Isobel, but seldom did Isobel share her secrets with anyone other than him. After a long pause, Christian relaxed, smiling wryly as his marshmallow erupted into flame.
“Have any ideas?”

“I was going to tell her Christine or Christopher, but I’m saving that for my first kid, or yours.”

“You’ll have children before I do, Ains.”

Ainsley didn’t reply that remark, removing her marshmallow from the fireplace, gently placing the sweet treat on a bar of chocolate, and with great precision removed the marshmallow from the roasting stick by pushing on it with her graham cracker.

“Well, it’s true. You and Izzy are way ahead of me and Jakie-cakes.” The nickname given to their other sibling by Isobel sounded odd, from Christian. “I mean, you two have someone in your life. We men fail at getting the women.”
Ainsley snorted, and her older brother’s dark brown eyes raised to hers, and he chuckled.
“Uh-oh. Is there something that Jacob neglected to tell me?”

“Her name is Hannah Cooper.”

“Your best friend from before you went off to France and met S.S.?”

“She’s still my best friend, silly.”

“Mhmm.”

“She is. It’s just that Sarah is more of my best friend. Anyway, it’s not official. Hannah just knows she loves him.”

“That means Jake’s a goner. I know that Cooper family- Julie’s got stories about them.”

“She’s Hannah’s biological mother, after all.”

“True. So….I guess that just leaves me.”

Ainsley shuffled over to her brother, one arm sliding around him, and the other hand daintily held her rather sticky s’more. “It’s okay, Chris. I know you’re happy without a partner.”

“I wouldn’t turn it down, you know. I just haven’t found someone like that.”

“As long as you aren’t lonely, Chris, don’t let it get to you.”

“Mom wants grandkids, Ains. She harps on it all the time, especially ever since Dawson was born. She’d love more.”

“Which is why she has Isobel, who’s already on baby number two; not to mention Jake, because once he wakes up and realizes he loves Hannah too, they’ll start a family.”

“What about you?”

Ainsley arched her eyebrow, a clear look on her face that warned him not to go there. Christian knew that look, and he knew that he was exempt from the danger it indicated.

“Come on, Ainsley. You and Avery have been official for a year now. When does he intend to make an honest woman of you?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“I plan on it.”

For once, Ainsley did not react as he was expecting. Rather than another pointed look, her face took on a hurt and surprised appearance, and rather than speaking to him sternly, when she spoke her voice was begging.
“Chris, please, don’t do that!”

His hand smoothed her hair, holding her close.
“I won’t, Jellybean. I won’t.”

Ainsley relaxed against her brother, popping the last of her s’more into her mouth.

“So, when can we expect you to add to the grandchild list?”

Ainsley scooped up a handful of marshmallows, and lobbed them at his face. Christian grinned, wrapping his arms tight around Ainsley, so that she couldn’t throw any more.
“Love you, Jellybean.”
“Love you too.”

Can't hold you like I want to, so I can feel you in my arms.

“Where have you been, Adrie?” Adrienne leaned against the door frame, watching her husband wash the dishes. She hadn’t made him dinner before she’d left, so Adrienne could only imagine that he’d cooked for himself. Her backpack and hiking gear were set just behind her, in the entryway of the home that she’d shared with Tsubaki for four years. Tsubaki knew where she’d been. It was where she always went: hiking once a month, conveniently during the full moon. Without answering his query just yet, Adrienne moved to stand next to him, taking a towel to dry the dishes, and kissing him on the cheek. She could tell that he wanted her to answer the question, but she couldn’t decide what he wanted to know.

“I went hiking, Tsu. You know that.” Her husband didn’t look convinced, and he grunted softly as he handed her a dish that needed to be dried. Adrienne took it silently, unused to the silent disapproval radiating from her husband. Adrienne and Tsubaki had known each other since the fourth grade, when they’d competed head-to-head in science fairs. Always, they ran first and second, alternating who won. From that friendly rivalry, true friendship had sprung. The two had attended birthday parties, and school dances as they grew up. Their Junior year of high school, they had determined to go to the same University, so that they would be able to see one another. Their bond had run fast and deep. At University, both found that dorm living was not to their liking, and eventually agreed to room together in a small apartment. They could only afford one room and one bed, but with the innocent trust left from the age of nine, they shared the bed.

The innocent friendliness didn’t last long.

It had been a late night, finals and exams were over, a summer of fun had been planned….and the celebratory mood had gone to bed with them. The next morning, the two were horrified to realize what had occurred, not because they regretted their feelings, but because they had not intended to use each other in such a way. The next week had been the first and only awkward time in their relationship, and after much thought, both concluded that they loved one another. Within four months, they were engaged to the smiled and bemused happiness of their families. Indeed, their life had been blissfully happy. Until five weeks until their wedding. That had been at the bachelorette party her sister had insisted on throwing. That had been when Adrienne had been bitten by a young man. When she had become a werewolf; of course Vivi had figured it out. Her ‘boyfriend’ had promised that he wouldn’t bite anyone. She promptly dumped him of course, but by then the damage had been done. She had helped her beloved older sister get back on her feet, and hide the secret; the secret that Tsubaki came dangerously close to uncovering once a month.

Adrienne took another plate from him numbly, awaiting his response. When it came, it was not the response that she had been looking for. He turned his head to her, dark eyes taking her in, almost painfully. “Who is he?”

This blew Adrienne away. She had always loved Tsubaki, always loved him, and no one else. Never had the idea of cheating occurred to Adrienne. Never had she even felt the desire to be with another man, the way that she was with Tsubaki. Very slowly she dropped the towel she’d been using to dry the dishes with, reaching out to touch his shoulder, and caressing his skin. The way that he didn’t move away gave her courage, and she leaned her weight against him, her arms sliding around him and her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “No one. He doesn’t exist, Tsubaki. There is only you, there has only ever been you, darling.”

“Then why do you leave me so much? Why wouldn’t you want to be around me?” Adrienne moved away from her husband, as the weight of four years of lies came crashing down upon her. She didn’t want to lie anymore, didn’t want the shame or the guilt that filled her every full moon, every new moon. Her arms went around herself, as Tsubaki spoke with increasing volume, begging her to tell him. This time, Adrienne recognized that what she had felt to be anger or disapproval had really been fear- the fear of rejection. “Adrie, why can’t I ever come with you?!”

That was the breaking point, and she began to cry. Tsubaki took her into his arms, holding her and offering strength and support, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Adrienne pulled away. “I just don’t want to kill you, Tsu.”

The man blinked, filled with shock. “What? Why would you kill me?”

“Because I am a werewolf.”