I put the box on top of the other ones already waiting by the door, letting out a relieved sigh. I certainly underestimated how much stuff I’ve managed to cram into my little apartment over the years, but this is the last of it. I don’t really know how to feel about it.
Stretching my back with a low groan that ages me at least a decade, I give one last glance at the space. It looks so empty. Just a couple of small rooms that look nothing like the space I have called my own for most of my adult life. It saddens me a little, how I’ve lived here for years and yet, now that I’ve stripped it of everything that made it mine, it looks exactly like it did the day I first moved in (except the walls I painted in warm cozy tones to hide the bland lifeless color they had originally been covered with.)
A cheerful voice brings me out of my thoughts before they can turn into even more somber ones.
“Having second thoughts?” asks Farah, bounding over to my side.
She gives me one of her usual shining smiles, but I’ve come to know her enough to realize that there’s a shadow of doubt hidden behind it.
“Not at all” I assure her with a smile of my own “I was just...”
My smile becomes strained as I try to find the words to continue the sentence, but my mind is all tangled up with emotions that are way too big to fit into the easy chatter that I was aiming for, so I fall silent.
She furrows her brows.
“Are you okay?” she places a caring hand on my arm and my eyes, embarrassingly, start to tear up.
“Of course!” I force the words out, clearing my throat while I press my mind to find something, anything, to get me out of this moment “. It’s just… I’ve always known that I wouldn’t stay here forever, but until now I hadn’t felt the finality of it. It’s almost daunting.”
I chuckle, and it comes out surer than I had expected. Farah puts her arm around my waist, pulling me into a half-hug.
“Change is always hard,” she states “and scary. But that’s what you have me for!”
I smile, more genuinely now, and squeeze her in a full embrace. She hugs me right back with as much enthusiasm.
“You don’t know how grateful I am for that,” I mutter against her shoulder.
She pulls away and pats my cheek affectionately.
“You’re welcome,” she says cheekily before turning around “well, these boxes won’t carry themselves, and I don’t want Ava to come and lecture me about efficiency and all that,” she gives me a wink over her shoulder “although you might be into that, what do I know.”
I blush, pointedly looking at the floor to ignore her mischievous eyes, but I can’t help the giddy smile that curls my lips. It feels so good to not have to hide how hearing Ava’s name makes me feel.
The vampire bends down to pick up one of the cardboard boxes and stands back up again with a grunt.
“What the hell do you have in here? Rocks?” she complains.
“Books,” I reply, fully expecting another jibe from Farah, but Nat and Ava choose that moment to appear in the doorway and the younger vampire leaves with nothing more than a roll of her eyes.
“Everything okay?” Nat softly asks.
“Sure.” I move to grab one of the other boxes left but before I can take more than half a step, Ava flashes in a blur of movement and stacks all of them in her muscled arms.
I scoff, crossing my arms while I try to pretend that I’m not bothered at all at the way her biceps visibly bulge.
“I may be a weak and fragile human, but I can handle a couple of cardboard boxes,” I state, “especially since their filled with my stuff.”
Ava easily maneuvers them so she can meet my gaze. Hers is filled with a warmth that leaves me breathless every time I see it.
“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. I’m more than happy to do it.”
She smiles, dimples and all, and what the hell am I supposed to do against that sight? Luckily, after a lot of insisting, and Nat backing me up while she tries to hide her amusement, I’m allowed to carry the smallest of the boxes, filled with my mug collection.
I close the door behind me and, in any other circumstances, the sound it makes as it snaps shut would have drag out the same unpleasant thoughts from before. But as it turns out, I’m too distracted by the easy banter between the three of us to even hear it.
I leave my current read on the bedside table, and on top of it, the beautiful old book that Nat let me borrow from the library (I still can’t believe she agreed to it, but after her vehement insistence that it was more than okay for me to take it, I sheepishly accepted it.) I let my fingers glide over its engraved cover absentmindedly and a deep feel of contentment fills me.
Turning to look over my shoulder, I see Ava carefully folding my old duvet. The line of her shoulders is relaxed and her expression, open, allowing me a peek into calm thoughts that flow through her mind. I know it’s an honor to be able to see her this way, one I’ll never take for granted.
I walk over to her with soft steps, but she stills look up to follow my approach, a soft smile on her lips. Unable to stop myself, I slowly lean down to capture them in a kiss. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of their warmth, or the way they glide over mine effortlessly, as if following an afterthought.
A bit reluctantly, I pull away.
“That was the last of it,” I say, pointing to the book on the bedside table, “it’s finally official.”
She takes my hand in one of hers, rubbing small circles on its back with her thumb.
“Are you happy?” she asks, eyes the bright green of a summer forest.
“I am,” I reply honestly, “I don’t think I’ve even happier.”
She brings my hand to her lips and kisses my knuckles tenderly, with reverence, echoing that first kiss so long ago. My heart thrums steadily, trusting that all that longing and pain is far behind us.
“I’m glad,” she kisses them again, “so glad,” another kiss, “to be able to give this to you.”
She gently turns my hand to press a kiss on its underside, right at my pulse point. She must feel how my heart buckles and trembles at the touch, because her eyes suddenly have a mischievous glint in them.
I open my mouth, but everything, the love, the trust, the pain and the longing. comes rushing to the forefront of my mind and suddenly it’s all too much, too loud.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, worriedly. She uses her grip on my hand to pull me closer, quickly inspecting me to find the cause of my sudden unease.
I’m back at my apartment all over again, but this time I won’t be able to fool Ava the same way I did Farah. I let out a heavy sigh and sit on the bed, feeling the weight of her stare on me.
“This morning, at my apartment,” I start, slowly, keeping my eyes on my hands “I realized…that…” I swallow around a thick knot. “There was absolutely no trace left…of me. It’s as if I was a ghost that came and went, and nobody even noticed.”
I take a breath.
“It’s silly…”
“It’s not,” she interrupts me, gently guiding my face with her hand so that I’m looking at her. Her eyes are open, honest, and just like that, I can breathe again. “Don’t ever try to dismiss your feelings. They matter. You matter.”
I close my eyes, finally, finally, allowing the tears to fall. I can faintly hear the murmur of voices down the hall, and a soft clinking of dishes that must come from the kitchen. Ava’s soft breaths, and the way the bed creaks under her weight when she shifts to brush a thumb over my wet cheeks.
I didn’t realize how much I hated the silence that has filled most of my life until I met Unit Bravo. The one that that almost managed to choke me when I was a child and then followed me like a shadow when I grew up. But it’s finally gone.
I’m not alone anymore.
I matter.
I’m seen.
I open my eyes and give her a teary smile.
“Thank you.”
She leans down to press her forehead on mine. I breath her in and feel safe in a way that I’ve been waiting to feel my whole life.
“You are most welcome,” she whispers against my lips.
I move to kiss her. Ava meets me halfway.
She tastes like home.