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“No, no, nooo!” I jump off the bench as if it's on fire, shaking my hands. “Don't think of anything weird,” my tone rises, no matter how hard I try to control it. “I just meant that maybe you should stick around. That's what I would do if I had nowhere else to go,” I spill out my thoughts all at once before finally taking a deep breath, feeling like I'm running out of air.
“Would you come to my place if you had nowhere else to go?” Samael's question hangs in the air, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil his delicate questions cause within me.
His presence alone fills me with emotion, and his inquiries stir up a stomach ache worse than when I had gastritis.
I’m so happy whenever he shows any interest in me, making me want to jump with joy.
“I would come, if I knew you'd welcome me,” I reply, my heart racing like a fluttering butterfly, as I toy with the edge of my skirt.
Samael continues to gaze at me intently, and then, out of nowhere, he stands up and shoves his hands into his pockets as he walks past me.
I feel like I've been stabbed in the chest. Was I just rejected? I look ahead, but everything around me turns black before my eyes.
“What are you doing? Aren't you coming?” he calls out, glancing back over his shoulder.
I don't ask him where because the storm in my heart is settled by a nice sensation.
Samael was going to spend the night at my place, after all.
CHAPTER 19
Five years ago
Rebecca
I‘ve reached a point where the rush of strange sensations from sneaking Sami into my room overwhelms any fear of getting caught. Yes, it might sound like a deadly risk, because my whole world would collapse if my parents discovered Samael in my room, but after that first night, everything seems easier. It's like I've stepped into the ring of fire, the thing I’ve feared the most, and now the flames of anxiety don't burn as brightly. As a result, we're back together, though we only share the room at night.
During the day, we pretend to be nothing more than distant neighbors, old childhood friends, or mere acquaintances, as much as I despise it.
What's different now? Maybe the fact that he looks at me when he responds to my greetings. Samael never greets me first. Usually, it's me who does it, and he barely mutters a tired “Hey,” keeping his head down or buried in a book. Yet ever since he started spending the nights at my place, he lifts his head and locks eyes with me when he says hello.
I can't deny the rush of emotions that this situation brings every morning, stirring my heart right from the start of the day. It feels like we're making progress.
I feel like we're getting closer, and all the efforts I made to put up with his annoying brother seem insignificant now, as if Manasseh doesn't even exist. My thoughts are constantly consumed by Sami, and I eagerly await our nights.
Samael spent about three days at my place that week, and then he went back home. I waited for him on the fourth evening, late into the night. But when he didn't show up, it was as if my romantic dreams had come to an abrupt end, just as they had begun. Nothing had changed, mainly because Sami isn't much of a talker, and I'm too shy around him to fill his head with my nonsense.
I wish I could talk to him about many things, if only I knew he'd listen.
But after a week, Samael returned, this time with fewer bruises than before. I tended to his wounds, fed him his favorite milk and cookies, and made a spot for him next to me without asking any questions.
We didn't talk much that evening either. Sami isn't a fan of long, trivial conversations, and I admit my tongue itches to chatter, but I hold back around him because I don't want him to think of me as some nagging girl.
Night after night, he's with me in my room, but it feels like there's a wall between us, one I can’t break. I can't pinpoint when this strange distance crept between us.
Could it have been during his vacation in Romania? It was then that Samael seemed to withdraw from everyone, retreating into his own world. I wish he would take the first step towards opening up, because I'm more than willing to offer him my heart. But I need some reassurance that he wants me there before I let him in completely.
I watch him silently as he falls asleep on the last night of the second week, and I play all sorts of silly scenarios in my head. For example, what if he sleepwalked and came to my bed, holding me in his arms and kissing my forehead? Because if he kissed me on the lips, I would probably die.
And so, a month passes with Samael spending three nights a week at my place before returning home. In the last two weeks, he doesn't stay away for long before coming back to me, though this time without any other injuries. I assume they had a fight, and he left before his father could hurt him again. Part of me is relieved that he's not as miserable, but there's another part that's selfish and yearns for those moments when our bodies were close, when I brushed his chin, tapped his lip or eyebrow, feeling his warm breath on my skin, the softness of his touch, and the intoxicating scent that lingers in the air. I should be content that I don't have to tend to his wounds anymore, but I miss the intimacy we shared. I don't know what’s wrong with me, and I despise myself for even having those thoughts, even just for a moment.
During the day, Manasseh continues to treat me like a personal servant, some sort of modern Cinderella. He shamelessly blackmails me, using the excuse of his dislocated shoulder as if it were all my fault. I work hard to please him, and he deletes photos based on how much effort he thinks I deserve. Most of the time, he’s fair. I see it as a good deal, as I can't choose another way, and I need to comply. However, lately, it becomes increasingly challenging to cater to Manasseh's demands, but as my mind is always on Sami, I don't realize how much effort I need to put in to please his annoying brother.
And here we are on a Thursday, the first week of October. This month, it's my birthday, and I wonder if Sami will remember.
Being the preacher's daughter and born on Halloween, it's kind of hard to forget. Manasseh certainly remembers; he was always the first one to scare me. It wouldn't be Halloween if I didn't get a fright from Manasseh. That was his gift to me on my birthday, as for the past few years, he's been trying to give me a heart attack.
No one knows yet that Sami sleeps over at my place. Not even Saza, who has distanced herself from me lately. Maybe it's partly my fault; I've been preoccupied with the Morgenstern brothers, and I haven't taken the initiative to talk to her. I'm waiting for her to come to me first, to see if she's truly a good friend, especially since my birthday is coming up.
