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“Well, there is everything,” she turned to me now as she spoke. “There is joy and sorrow. There is love and loss. Sometimes, it feels overwhelming, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” I had to agree.
“I can’t even imagine what it must be like to exist on the thin margin between the two worlds,” she added.
“What two worlds?” I asked.
“Mine and yours,” she explained, her eyes softening with understanding.
I didn’t want to delve into this. I didn’t want to have any personal discussions, but she was drawing me in. Her eyes begged me to speak to her, to understand her, and I had to give in. No woman had ever thrilled me so much, and at the same time, frightened me with her beauty, her mind and her passion for life.
I knew that she belonged to someone else. I stole her for that one precious moment, when she belonged to me. But we were back to reality now. We had to abide by the rules that surrounded us. And that meant we needed to pretend that nothing happened.
“You get used to it,” I finally gave an answer to her question.
“Do you really?” she asked again, tilting her head a little, as if to take a better look at me.
Her question caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it. “Sometimes it’s easier, sometimes less,” I replied.
“You know, I also feel like I’m between somehow,” she revealed with a sigh.
“What do you mean?”
Her steps grew slower as she neared me, her expression tinged with vulnerability. She spoke as if she had been burdened by this for a very long time.
“Being the princess isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be,” she smiled a little awkwardly, but that was only to mask the discomfort that came with revealing something as personal as this. “There are so many expectations, responsibilities that I can’t escape. I’m bound by the obligations to my kingdom, which are preventing me from living my life the way I truly want to. It’s suffocating at times, and it feels like I can’t be fully anything. Notfully myself, not fully a princess, because the other side is always pulling me, threatening to tear me in two.”
I was surprised how accurately she had described this state of mind. “I know that feeling. But that’s just it. It’s not only a feeling but also a burden.”
She nodded. “I never asked for this role. I was born into it, just like you were born a vampire, but a human family found you. Fate decided that for us. We had no choice in it. Sometimes, I feel trapped, like my own desires and dreams are overshadowed by what is expected of me. I want to be free, to live a life that is truly my own.”
I could understand every single word of that. The complexities of her life were almost like my own, with the same limitations, the same incapability of leading your own life the way you wanted it to be.
“Even this marriage…” she started, but she didn’t finish.
I waited for her to continue, but there was only silence. Whatever it was she wanted to say, she had changed her mind about it.
“What about this marriage?” I echoed.
I wanted to know. Curiosity was eating me up alive. I didn’t even know what I wanted her to say.
“Nothing,” she waved her hand dismissively.
I wanted to hear her say that this marriage wasn’t what she wanted, but no such words came from her.
“I suppose everyone has those premarital jitters,” she smiled nervously, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Then suddenly, she seemed to find something of interest. She bent down and picked up something from the lowest row on a wall mounted shelf.
It was a music box. That much was obvious from the moment she opened it with trembling hands and delicate gears sprang to life. The first notes began to play, and I could see a tearroll down her face. The soft melody continued to play even when I approached her and wrapped my arms around her. That was the only thing I wanted to do right now.
There was no more sense of right or wrong. There was only what I wanted to do, as the music enveloped the attic, filling the space with a bittersweet melody that seemed to transcend time and space. Lilith pressed her head to my shoulder. She didn’t sob. She barely moved. But I could feel her tears through my shirt, moistening it. I didn’t mind. All I cared about was having her in my arms in this tender moment.
As the final notes faded into the air, she closed the music box with a sense of reverence. She lifted her head and looked up at me. Unable to resist the temptation to do so, I gently wiped a leftover tear from her cheek.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice down to a whisper. “This music box… it is a precious piece of my past. It belonged to my mother. It always rested on her vanity table. She would play it for us whenever we asked her to, explaining that it used to belong to her own mother. I think I needed this reminder of who I am and where I come from.”
I swallowed heavily, as she gazed into my eyes. Our bodies were still pressed together, hearts beating fast. An invisible force drew me closer to her, and I couldn’t stop myself. Our lips met, gently at first. There was a faint taste of saltiness on hers. It was a tender moment, where we allowed the other to find solace. It was as if this moment transcended the physical realm, our destinies forever intertwined, no matter what happened afterwards.
I didn’t want to let go. I also didn’t want this to lead anywhere. There was no raw passion, no animal magnetism like the previous time. This was much deeper, much more intimate, and that frightened me.
