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“Why not?”
The dynamic between a vampire and a vampire slayer was always a clear cut one. There was nothing but hate. There could never be anything but hate. It’s simply how things were.
“They were just doing what they believed was right,” he explained enigmatically. “I know my parents were… bad vampires. They did bad things, to good people. Even to good vampires. I never knew that until I came here, and I met some people. My grandparents are my guardians now. So, I asked them about it and they had no choice but to tell me the truth.”
“About your parents?”
“Yes.”
He spoke slowly, using simple words. It only added to the effect his story had on her. She believed him. After all, she herself knew that vampires came in all sorts and sizes. There were good vampires, bad vampires and those in between. Those were the most dangerous. The bad ones, you knew what to expect of them. Pure malice and hatred but, the ones in between, those could really get you.
“I wish I could meet the slayer who killed my parents,” he suddenly said and her body immediately jerked back instinctively, as if it sensed an unknown danger that was about to come her way.
“Why?” she was quick to ask.
“So, I could tell him or her that I understand,” he continued, “that I feel no thirst for revenge.”
“You don’t?”
“No,” he shook his head.
She thought about it for a second, but she knew exactly what she wanted to say, what it was necessary of her to say.
“That’s really noble of you.”
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. They were my parents, and I loved them. I still love them but after hearing the horrible things they did, a part of me thinks that…”
He couldn’t continue. His voice was shaking, down to a whisper now. His thought remained unsaid, but Mina knew what he wanted to reveal.
“It’s okay,” she placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
He turned to her and gave her a weak but grateful smile.
“Sorry about this,” he suddenly perked up. “I wanted you to join me for a coffee and now I’m being all pathetic here, talking about my dead parents.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” she assured him. “I totally understand and it’s okay if you want to talk about it. I don’t mind.”
“I don’t want to bother you.”
“You’re not,” she lifted her cup. “Look. It’s empty.”
He looked at the cup, then at her.
“You’re still here,” he smiled more cheerfully now.
“See?” she teased. “I actually like this guy better than the cocky jock.”
The moment she said it, she realized something. Could it be that he was being mean just to hide his pain?
“I guess I do cross the line sometimes,” he admitted.
“Sometimes?” she repeated. “The first time we met, you made my friend go away, like she was a dog or something. That was very rude.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, gliding his fingers through his sleek hair but a few strands fell over his face and eyes.
She had no idea how someone could look so effortlessly gorgeous. Good genes, probably.
“I’ll have to apologize to her.”
