It's Forbidden... So Why Do I Like Him? 9

~*Turn around?*~
______________________________________
{~Belle~}
The rest of the weekend was... depressing. Maybe it was just me. Jeanie's plane had gotten called off, a storm was brewing and Alumit told her about the news. Mom gave me some confident words--It's always darkest before dawn, stuff like that. Neither of us really believe in those sayings, but it helped me a bit anyway. I only got out of bed to go to the bathroom. No brushing my teeth, combing my hair, or taking showers. I was just... there. More of an empty shell than anything. Alumit checked on me regularly, giving me food and asking if I were okay. I just nodded vaguely in his direction or thanked him. He, as usual, was stressed about me.

I decided that on Monday, I was going to suck up the pain and go to school. I took a much-needed shower, brushed my teeth and hair, then changed into some clean clothes. I looked a lot better, but the look in my eyes ruined my hygiene. They were deep, golden and desperate, full of fear and depression.

I blinked away the tears that burned in my eyes, then went through my clothes for something to wear. It had been awhile since I did laundry, so I was running low on clean clothes. I chose a tan sweater with a weird net-like design, some light blue jeans with the bottoms frayed, and a pair of brown shoes, old and looking like they've been through Hell itself. Taking a look in the mirror, I'd say the shoes weren't the only thing that looked horrible.

I didn't look like Belle. My eyes, still agonized, had deep bruises under them. My nose was red, as were my eyes. I was paler than usual, more sickly than a fair shade. My body looked underfed and scrawny. I looked like crap, basically. And no black. Huh.

I shrugged off the thoughts of make up. Make up covered what your feeling and who you are. It's a mask, and I have nothing to hide. My friend got murdered slowly and I found her mutilated body. I'd probably be the pitty-party of the school today.

I took my backpack with shaking hands, rolled it on my back, and started down the stairs. Alumit looked shocked that I came downstairs. He was dressed in his usual tight clothing--faded skinny jeans, tight white shirt, combat boots--and looked more grown-up than he normally did. He looked troubled. Probably about me, I realized with a pang of guilt.

"You're actually down," he stated. I just nodded. I hadn't talked much over the weekend. "Want anything to eat? My treat." I just shook my head. He blinked and looked at me, measuring me with his eyes. I wondered if he saw the same person I did. "You need a cappuccino. Caramel. I'm driving." He grabbed his backpack and helped me into the car, like I was an infant.

I felt like one.

He, like he said, bought me a caramel cappuccino, along with a chicken biscuit sandwich. Then he drove me to school. I was starting to feel helpless. People eyes the car as we drove in the school parking lot. I knew that they knew, since they had a raging curiosity in their eyes. I gulped down on the terror that overtook my body for a moment.

I can do this, I told myself mentally. I took another look at the curious crowd, all eager to poke me for answers. Not caring the horror I felt. I can't do this, I really can't do this...

Alumit must have seen my face. He pulled into a vacant spot, then turned off the car. Neither of us moved. "Can you do this?" He asked, still looking through the windshield at the school building.

"I hope so," I murmured.

Alumit turned to smile hopefully at me. I recognized the smile, from a different era. A nicer one. One where we were playing on the playground and a bully pushed me. Alumit beat the hell out of that kid, then got me some tweezers to get some splinters out of my hands and knees. He put some band-aids on the sores after that.

He started to hum a sound. I recognized it as a song Mom used to sing to me when I felt down. His hum was a lot slower, and much sweeter. I sang along softly.

"I'm an angel, I'm a devil, I am sometimes in-between,
I am bad as it can get, and good as it can be,
Sometimes I'm a million colors, sometimes I'm black and white,
I am all extremes!
Try to figure me out? You never can! There's so many things I am!

"I am special, I am beautiful,
I am wonderful, and powerful, unstoppable,
Sometimes I'm miserable, sometimes I'm pitiful,
But that's so typical of all the things I am!

"I'm someone filled with self-belief, I'm haunted by self-doubt,
I've got all the answers, I've got nothing figured out,
I like to be by myself, I hate to be alone,
I am up and I am down,
But that's part of the thrill, part of the plan,
Part of all the things I am!

"I am special, I am beautiful,
I am wonderful, and powerful, unstoppable,
Sometimes I'm miserable, sometimes I'm pitiful,
But that's so typical of all the things I am!

"I'm a million contradictions, sometimes I make no sense!
Sometimes I'm perfect, sometimes I'm a mess!
Sometimes I'm not sure who I am...

"I am special, I am beautiful,
I am wonderful, and powerful, unstoppable,
Sometimes I'm miserable, sometimes I'm pitiful,
But that's so typical of all the things I am!"

I finished, and smiled at my lovable brother. He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Feeling better?" I nodded sheepishly, blushing. "Good. Because people are probably wondering why we've been in this car so long." He handed me my backpack and opened my door for me. I hit him in the arm and walked in the school, ignoring any questions people asked me.

I gaped when I saw the pictures. All of Kharis's mangled body. All over the school. Some taped up, some hot-glued. Some were even hung on by Ductape or gum. Several clung to the ceilings. I heard girls scream when they opened their lockers and found the pictures. I gaped, feeling a horrible burning in my heart. I couldn't handle this.

I fled to the safety of the library. I sat down in the only section I thought people would never go to--Grains of the world. But, apparently that wasn't good enough. Because somebody was already sitting at one of the tables. Not just any person, Declan. Possible vampire hunter. Not good, being alone with him.

I thought about sitting behind one of the book piles, but I didn't get to make a decision. Declan chose to speak to me.

"Hey," a soft voice murmured. I looked up, thinking somebody else had joined us, but found that, under that white hoodie with weird black designs, Declan was talking to me. And not glaring, his silver eyes were soft, curious, and innocent. Sorry, in fact, like he was apologizing to me in some way.

I was reeling from this odd moment. What would make him talk to me without having to. Then, his next comment answered my question.

"I heard about Kharis--"

I held up my hand, closing my eyes and sighing. "I don't get why you hate me so instinctively, but can you just give me some sympathy by not talking about it. I'm trying to get the images out of my head. So--can you please just drop it?"

He looked at me, studying a bit. The hood was up on his jacket, so I could only see a small outline of his face. Some white hair stuck out of the hood of the jacket, but the rest was a faint blur. Except for the eyes. They were shown brightly, like Morticia from the Adams Family, how she always had a light showing on her eyes, making them stunningly beautiful and eerie at the same time.

He finally blinked, snapping me out of my daze. "Images?" He asked, slightly awed behind the coolness of his voice. I could hear curiosity. "You saw her?"

I sighed. "Who hasn't? Have you seen these fucking posters? They're held on my Ductape!" My voice was clipped and harsh. I immediately regretted it, seeing his innocent eyes dim. He wasn't in on it. Or was he. "Yeah. I was the one that found her body."

Declan's eyes widened. "Seriously?" He breathed, the air coming out audibly. "Well, that's..." He seemed to be trying for the right word. "Cruel."

"Seeing an old friend slaughtered like an animal? Yes, yes it is cruel." I sat down a few chairs down, taking out a History book. I sucked at learning about dead people. I suddenly wished I hadn't thought about that. "And I've never seen a corpse before, even of an animal, so that burned more."

I could see Declan smile thinly from behind the hood. "Not my first, unfortunately. She's my cousin, distant. First one was my Dad." He looked down, frowning.

I blinked twice. "I would say sorry, but that's not going to do much good, is it?"

He smiled thinly again. "No. No, it won't."

I was reeling again. How the hell was he related to Kharis? She was a vampire. And he was human--Wait, was he? No human I've ever seen has silver eyes, ones like a predator. That's what marks a vampire. And the skin, his skin was light like mine. Fair white.

The only sure, fire way was bloody and smelly. I haven't been close enough to get a smell--how weird does that sound?--and I'm surely not biting him. That would be dangerous, if the rumors about him being a vampire hunter were true. Very dangerous. I'm not in the mood to end up like Kharis.

We were silent for a moment, thinking. Some part of me wondered what HE was thinking about. I was both scarred and interested in that. But you had to be at least fifty in vampire years to get mind-reading. A five hundred for mind control. Until then, you stayed young. But we weren't immortal, not really. There were plenty of ways to kill a vampire. We must all go someday.

Declan was the one who ended the silence. "Come here."

I gave him a cautious look.

"What am I going to do, bite you? Come over here."

I scooted own the few seats, bringing my stuff. My History textbook might be used for more than just studying if he tried anything. "What?" I murmured.

He rolled his eyes and reached into his hood, pulling out an earphone. I looked at it. "Listen. It helps."

I took it cautiously, my eyes flickering to him every few seconds as I placed it in my ear. There was soft piano coming out of it, a sweet yet sad song playing. It was beautiful. I found myself closing my eyes, listening happily. I smiled a bit. I wasn't normally one to listen to piano--and I sure as hell wouldn't guess Declan was--but it was simply wonderful.

"What is this?" I murmured, my eyes opening slightly.

"A magic jacket?" I rolled my eyes. "It's Yiruma, 'When Love Falls'," he answered seriously. I nodded, like I had a clue who that was. Declan must have seen through my facade. "He's an Asian pianist."

I nodded, a bit depressed as the song came to a sad end. Then it was replaced by a more joyful and complex song. Declan said it was called "It's Your Day". It was beautiful as well, more uplifting. It reminded me of... a sunny day, where you're sitting on a mountain's hiking trail, looking over the woods surrounding you. Invigorating and... wonderful.

Through the thick fog in my mind, some part of me reminded me about the whole Declan being-related-to Kharis situation. I tried to look subtle, breathing like any normal person would.

I nearly choked on a strong scent of cologne. If he was a vampire--I'm not ruling out this option yet even if he might be a hunter--then it was smart of him to hide his cover with the cologne. I would do something like that, to hide my cover. But I would invest in contacts as well, so there's a downfall there. But, under the choking scent of cologne, I could get a faint whiff of his real smell.

Huh. He smells... weird. Not human, but not Cian or Ambrose. Humans smelled like an animal, like a pampered dog that famous people kept in their purses. Cian smell like honeysuckle and sunshine. Ambroses are like dark chocolate and cinnamon. Amcians, like Jeanie, Alumit, and I, have no definite odor. We have a mixed smell, depending on our personalities and hunting instincts.

But he was a different one. Was it possible that he was an Amcian? The cologne and the music hade my head thicker again, so I dozed off.

We listened to the music until the warning bell sounded, then we had to get back to class. An odd moment of clarity hit me: I just spent time listening to piano with a guy who might want to kill me.

Strangely enough, I didn't mind it.

I liked it.

Wait. No, wrong phrasing. That wasn't what I was all giggly and bubbly about. Listening to music for a half hour wasn't what I liked. It was who I was with.

I liked Declan.