A Girl in a Dress: Memory #7 2/2

At first, I thought it was only going to be an hour or maybe even a little longer. I didn’t see Eaden until very late, a few hours before the sun was to rise.

The door to my room creaked open, and I sat up from my bed to see her. She was still fully dressed, but her hair was cascaded down her shoulders.

She looked clearly exhausted.

Still beautiful.

“Eaden,” I breathed.

I got to my feet to pull her to the bed, and I forced her to sit down.

Her dress looked darker than it had before.

“Did you have fun?” I asked her.

She only shook her head.

I wrapped my left arm around her shoulders, my demon arm.

“Hurry up and ask your questions,” she said, “I am very close to losing consciousness.”

She came anyway?

“I promised,” she said, “So ask.”

I stood up, “Sleep here tonight.”

“I can’t.”

She hasn’t slept in my bed in a long time. I don’t know the reason.

“It can be like old times,” I said.

“I am wearing this huge dress,” she sighed, “I can’t.”

I was quick to grab one of my short-sleeved white shirts and a pair of gray elastic pants.

“Then wear something of mine.”

She only looked at the clothes I held out to her.

“Come on,” I said, “Stand up.”

I helped her to her feet, and I found the knot on the back of her dress, and I untied it.

“Close your eyes,” she said to me.

“I can’t untie this with my eyes shut,” I stated.

“Try,” she whispered.

I didn’t even bother to try. I simply loosened it and pulled open the back of the dress.

She gasped and held the front of the dress with both hands.

I turned around so she could have some privacy.

My eyes locked on a crack in the brick near my bed.

“So, what do you want to ask?” she asked.

“I have a few questions,” I stated.

“I promised I would answer them,” she said.

I could hear the rustling of clothes.

“What are you?” I asked.

“What are you?” she asked me back.

“So, then you don’t trust me,” I stated.

It felt a little hurt by that.

“I never said that.”

“Then, what is Lucia?” I asked, “Why didn’t you want me at the party?”

I heard her sigh.

“What is a Guardian?” I asked, “Why was I really brought here?”

“Stop,” she said quickly, “One at a time.”

“What are you?”

“What are you?” she asked me.

I turned to glare at her, but I froze once I saw her pulling up the large pants.

“I am something people don’t know much about,” she stated, “I think I am one of the last of my kind.”

I stared at her, “What are you? What do you think I am?”

“You are a Demon,” she stated, “But human on one day of the month, so you are only Half Demon.”

She was right.

“What do you think I am?” she asked.

“If I had an idea, I wouldn’t be wondering,” I stated, “I have no idea what you are.”

She looked directly at me, and through the darkness, I could see her mixed blue eyes clearly.

“I am a Phoenix.”

I had to replay her words in my head, a Phoenix?

The fire, the healing, the different color flame, and the mind-reading. How did it all fit?

“And Lucia?” I asked.

“A Dragon,” she stated.

A Dragon? Now I know that Maccon had no reason to protect her.

“Why didn’t you want me at the party?” I asked.

My questions were diverting, but I needed to know.

She looked to the side and shook her head.

“You promised.”

She looked over at me, clearly tired.

“I didn’t want to hear those other girls’ thoughts of you.”

I looked at her, clearly confused. Why did she care?

“What is a Guardian?” I asked her.

“Maccon is Lucia’s Guardian,” she stated, “He will be alive as long as she is, he watches over her when she can’t care for herself.”

“Why wouldn’t she be able to?” I asked.

“When she sleeps, she is unaware of everything around her,” she said, “Sometimes it can last years. Maccon is the only one she trusts other than me to watch over her.”

She trusts Maccon with her life?

“Is he human?” I asked.

She sat on the bed before lying back, “Not anymore.”

“A Guardian isn’t human?” I asked her.

“The Guardian and the Keeper share a bond so powerful that the Guardian becomes a supernatural being to protect their Keeper.”

“Is that why I’m here?” I asked her, “To be your Guardian?”

She sat up quickly to look at me, “I don’t know.”

“How do you not know?”

“That isn’t a decision I can make alone,” she said, “The Guardian must be willing.”

“So, what happens if I do become your Guardian?”

“It’s always different,” she stated, “Maccon has become very strong since becoming Lucia’s Guardian.”

“And how long would that last?” I asked, “Being a Guardian?”

She fell back on the bed, “Until the Keeper dies.”

Until the Keeper dies… What happens to the Guardian?

“What happens to the Guardian?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “I don’t remember.”

I stared at her for a minute, “Do you trust me?”

She was silent.

“You don’t?” I asked.

“I do trust you,” she said, “But I don’t trust anyone else where you’re involved.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself?” I asked.

“Please let me sleep,” she groaned.

“Do you think I liked watching that moronic man dance with you?” I asked.

She sat up quickly, “Do you think I liked hearing his thoughts about you?”

“Stop reading other people's minds,” I stated.

“I can’t,” she said in a pleading tone, “Their thoughts were all screaming at me.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that.

“That woman,” she whispered, “The one in the red dress, she wanted you.”

I chuckled.

Eaden sat up to glare at me, she looked irritated.

“Well, I didn’t want her,” I stated.

“The man I was dancing with, Charles,” she said, “He wanted you too.”

“I thought he might,” I stated, “Maccon warned me about him.”

“You knew I was being escorted by another man, and you came anyway?” she practically hissed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked her simply.

“You weren’t invited!”

“Yes, I was,” I stated, “Maccon invited me.”

“Then it wasn’t a real invitation,” she frowned.

“He told me about the man you were going with, and I decided to go.”

Her frown deepened.

I didn’t want to fight with her anymore. To be perfectly honest, I was tired.

I had waited several hours for her to finally arrive, and I finally got the answers to the questions that had been eating at me.

“Are you ready to sleep?” I asked her.

She nodded with a pout on her face.

“Come on,” I said, crawling on the bed first so that my back was to the wall, and she laid in front of me.

“That man didn’t even pay attention to me,” she said, “I didn’t understand why I was the one he was dancing with half the night.”

“Stop talking about that inbred,” I stated, “Sing something for me.”

She turned to look at me before chuckling, “Alright.”

I laid there waiting for her usual song. She sang it almost every time before she fell asleep, so I knew most of it.

“Sing me a lullaby,

Sing me to sleep,

Sing me a love song,

Sing me a song about sadness,

Sing me a song about war,

Sing me a song about laughter,

Sing me a lullaby,

Sing me to sleep.”

“Who came up with that song?” I laughed.

It was the first time I heard that version.

“You’re just mad because you can’t dance,” she stated.

“Yeah, well, you can’t sing,” I said back to her.

We both only laughed. I knew for a fact I was a great dancer, and she could definitely sing. I actually hated how her singing made me feel.

“I’d like to hear a song that didn’t sound like an old man wrote it.”

“It’s the only song I know,” she mumbled.

“The only song you know?” I asked.

She hesitated before nodding.

It wasn’t a song I ever heard of, maybe her father sang it to her when she was younger.

“Try writing a new one,” I said, “Any song would sound better than that one.”

She nodded again.

“Goodnight,” I told her.

“Goodnight,” she said just above a whisper.

I could still feel the raised hair on my skin from her voice. It made me wonder if she knew how amazing her voice sounded.

Despite me hating the way it felt, I knew I didn’t really hate it.

I just didn’t want to ever admit it. Not to her, not even to myself.

My eyes lingered on her until I couldn’t keep them open anymore.

Her humming kept the butterflies fluttering in my belly until I lost consciousness.