After dinner and before bed, Victor found himself in the library reading beside Nicholas. It’d become an unspoken evening ritual that the both of them enjoyed. Whenever the fire began to flicker and fade, Nicholas would simply lift his finger, and it would burst with renewed exuberance. 

Victor found himself rereading the same sentence over and over again, his mind preoccupied with a burning question. Finally, he snapped his book closed and turned to Nicholas. 

“Something’s been bothering me…I thought you had a rule against exposing humans to the supernatural,” he said. “And yet you told that man in Still Water that there is a ghost living in his home.”

“I allow for exceptions. I think those two will benefit from each other’s company.” Nicholas explained. 

“You introduced me to the supernatural without much persuasion either,” Victor said softly. “Why?”

“Well, I didn’t have much of a choice. You barged right in.” Nicholas commented. “Speaking of the supernatural, how are your studies going?”

“I’ve learned so much in such little time,” Victor said, running his hand down the face of his book. “So many things I thought impossible…they’re real and all around me. It’s a bit overwhelming, to say the least. But there’s also a strange sense of…comfort.”

“Comfort?” Nicholas inquired. 

“I thought that all supernatural creatures would be evil, like the beast that took my parents from me. But all the ones I’ve met here are rather friendly.” Victor explained. 

“Speaking of that beast…have you discovered what exactly it was?” Nicholas asked. 

Victor closed his eyes and shook his head. “There’s nothing like it in any of your books.”

“What did it look like exactly?” Nicholas asked curiously. 

“It was…” Victor retraced his memory. “...canine with fur as black as charcoal and eyes like two yellow suns. Its claws and teeth were the stuff of a nightmare. And it–” Suddenly, Victor felt Nicholas’s hand on his own. Taking a breath, he realized he had been hyperventilating. “My apologies,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“There’s no need, my friend, really. I should be the one apologizing for bringing back such distasteful memories.” Nicholas said. 

Just then, the grandfather clock in the corner struck nine. 

“The night is dark and long. No one should have to face it alone.” Victor said, rising out of his chair. “Why don’t we continue this conversation up in the observatory?”

“Aren’t you tired? Don’t feel a need for over-politeness simply because you pity me.” Nicholas said. 

“It’s not a pity,” Victor said. “I’ve just been enjoying your company, and I’d like to continue to enjoy it. I feel as though I wouldn’t be able to sleep when my heart is this excited.”

Nicholas smiled and took Victor’s hand, leading him up to the observatory. A tall arched dome stretched above them, shimmering with the colors of the night sky.  On the lower level, there was a cluttered desk stacked with paperwork, but up a small staircase, beside the golden telescope, was a comfy couch and end table. Victor and Nicholas sat side by side on the little sofa, staring up at the blanket of stars shimmering above their heads. 

“Oh!” Nicholas said. “I almost forgot–I wanted to give you something.” He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a small red box with a white ribbon. 

“What’s this?” Victor asked softly, taking the box into his hands. 

“Open it,” Nicholas encouraged. 

Victor removed the lid of the box, revealing a sparkly, new lighter. 

“I felt bad that I’d broken the first one,” Nicholas explained. “I thought it was only right that I should replace it.”

Victor stared down at the gift in surprise. He took the lighter into his hands, running his finger down the cold, smooth metal. 

“Thank you,” Victor said, pocketing the lighter. “I appreciate it.”

For the first time, Nicholas was able to forget about his condition, keeping himself sustained with casual sips from his flask. He pointed to the constellations, drawing the lines between the stars with his finger. Victor listened to his stories of archers and lions, gazing up at the sky with a newfound appreciation. 

As the night wore on, the temperature continued to drop. A chill filled the observatory, frosting the glass walls. 

“Winter is coming. Can you feel it?” Nicholas asked, turning to Victor. He was surprised to see that Victor was holding his arms, shivering. Nicholas smiled and summoned a wool blanket, draping it over Victor’s shoulders. 

“Thank you,” Victor said shyly. A little smile spread across his lips, and the blush returned to his face. “My whole life, I have sought out the impossible because I believed it was the one thing that could bring me closure…to find peace knowing there are simply things that cannot be. Even though that remains my goal…I have found that there is something else that has brought me closer to the solace I crave.”

“Oh?” Nicholas hummed. 

Victor turned and looked at him. “You,” he said softly. 

Red spread from the base of Nicholas’s neck up to the top of his head. He was practically glowing within the dark observatory, his ears burning bright pink. 

“You have brought me much of the same.” he finally managed to say. “I’ve always wanted …more. More money, more power, more suitors-more everything. I was so hungry for more that I traded my humanity away for immortality. But with you, life feels like it’s…enough.” 

As he spoke, he kept his gaze forward, too shy to watch Victor’s reaction. He waited for Victor to respond, but he never did. Nicholas peered down and found that Victor had fallen asleep on his shoulder, snoring softly. He studied Victor’s serene expression, the way that when his eyes were closed, one could better see his long, dark eyelashes. 

“The stars could only long to possess half of your radiance,” he whispered, gently kissing the top of Victor’s head. 

. . .

Victor awoke alone, lying on the sofa in the observatory. His hands were folded beneath his head, and the wool blanket was still draped over his body. He blinked open his eyes and peered out the observatory window toward the sound of two voices. He spotted Nicholas down in the courtyard, talking with a man he didn’t recognize. Slowly, he got to his feet and stretched, making his way through the manor to the front door. He hopped down the porch steps and  joined Nicholas in the courtyard, standing by his side. 

“Ah, there he is now,” Nicholas said. “Victor, this is John. He takes care of the farm down the hill and the garden on the roof. He was my personal chef before I…turned. But even after he learned of my ailment, he remained loyal to me while everyone else left.”

“So you’re the one I owe thanks to for all those wonderful meals,” Victor said politely. 

“I just tend to the crops; Nick is the one who does all the cooking,” John grumbled. He was an older man with gray stubble and pale blue eyes. He wore baggy overalls with one strap undone. 

“I didn’t know that,” Victor said, turning to Nicholas.

“Yes, John delivers produce to the manor every week, and I use it to cook the meals,” Nicholas explained. “It makes me feel human again, even if I can’t eat any of it.”

“I’ve never been up to the garden before, but I assume it’s lovely,” Victor said to John. 

“That’s actually why I’m here. I bought some squash seeds a couple of months ago and went to check on them this morning, but then something burst out of the dirt and attacked me.” John explained, pointing at the bloodied bandage tied across his forearm. 

“Could you be a bit more descriptive?” Nicholas encouraged. 

“Metaphor isn’t my forte,” John said. “Follow me, and you can come see for yourself.” He trudged through the manor door and down a narrow hallway, past the library, and up a flight of steep, twisted steps. At the top of the steps was a hatch that opened up into a luscious greenhouse at the top of the manor. 

“It’s like a jungle.” Victor gasped, admiring the twisting vines hanging above his head. A soft mist was falling over the greenery from sprinklers attached to the ceiling. Enormous plants surrounded them on all sides, filling the air with a sweet, earthly scent. Without a word, John walked to the glass door at the back of the room, took a brass key from his pocket, and unlocked it.

“Be warned. Whatever it is, it’s a nasty little bugger.” John said before pushing open the door. 

On the other side were rows of raised garden beds filled with plump fruits and vegetables. In the center of the room was a gigantic gourd with a wide, hungry mouth. Its long stem curved back over its head and down into the dirt of one of the plots. 

“What is that thing?” Victor asked Nicholas. 

“A devouring gourd–they originate from East African folklore,” Nicholas said. “If we snip its stem, then the creature should turn back into a harmless vegetable.”

“But how do we do that without getting, you know, devoured,” Victor asked. 

“One of us will have to distract the beast while the other snaps its stem,” Nicholas said.

“In that case, you’ll need one of these,” John said, taking a large pair of gardening shears from the leather belt across his waist.

“I’ll be the bait. While it chases after me, you get in close and deal the deadly blow.” Nicholas instructed Victor, who took hold of the gardening shears. 

Victor nodded, turning toward the devouring gourd, which hungrily snapped its jaws. Nicholas sprinted across the room at incredible speed, jumping up onto one of the garden beds. The gourd rolled toward him, wriggling on its leafy vine arms. Nicholas dashed away from the gourd, dodging its thrashing arms and sharp teeth. 

Victor snuck to the back of the room, tracing the stem back to a plot of dirt. He went to cut the stem, but the blades refused to go through, stuck in its thick tissue. With his entire body weight, Victor pushed onto the shears, but the blades snapped under the pressure. 

The gourd let out an annoyed grumble and turned back toward him. As it sprang forward, Victor grabbed one of the blades that had broken off the gardening shears and sliced open the gourd’s face, revealing its yellow flesh. One of the creature’s viney arms whipped forward and whacked Victor hard in the stomach, sending him stumbling back into the dirt. 

“Victor!” Nicholas yelled. 

He ran over and held out his hands toward the gourd. Red magic began to whirl around the gourd’s jaws, forcing them closed. Nicholas groaned, his hands straining as the gourd fought back against the spell. He peered down at Victor, who was still lying on the ground, his arms folded over his abdomen. “Are you alright, my friend?”

“Just a bit winded. And I might have bruised a rib,” Victor coughed, getting back to his feet. “How much longer do you think you can hold it still?” 

“John was right about it being a nasty bugger. I think I can only hold it for another minute or so.” Nicholas answered, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. 

“That’s all the time I need,” Victor said. 

He gripped the blade in his hand and leaped onto the top of the groaning gourd. Reeling his arm back, Victor angled the blade and sliced clean through the stem. The gourd screamed as its body began to turn hardened and rigid. Its leafy tentacles fell limp against the tiled floor and its mouth became sealed shut by a wall of yellow skin. 

“It’s nothing but a particularly large delicata now,” Nicholas said, patting the gourd. 

“Shame to let it all go to your waste,” John said.

“Know any good squash recipes?” Victor asked Nicholas. 

“Plenty. But I have a feeling we’re going to have to get creative.” he chuckled. “But more importantly…” he continued, turning to Victor. “May I?”

Nicholas reached out his hand toward Victor’s side. 

“Oh, yes,” Victor said, suddenly remembering he had been injured. Nicholas placed his hand against Victor’s ribs, taking away any of his pain. Suddenly, Victor’s face went very still. 

“What is it, my friend?” Nicholas asked. “Did I do the spell wrong?”

“No, no–It’s just a thought…” Victor muttered, standing. “John, where exactly did you come across those squash seeds?”

“A vendor down in Still Water,” John answered. “Found em’ at the farmer’s market.”

“Isn’t it strange that both John and Dolph accidentally purchased dangerous items from a simple village merchant?” Victor asked Nicholas. “And your spellbook, the one that gave you your curse, that was purchased in Still Water as well, wasn’t it?”

Nicholas nodded, his eyes strained and serious. 

“Can you recall what the vendor looked like?” Nicholas asked John, who shook his head. “I can’t seem to remember either; it’s almost as if…”

“...he cast a spell on himself.” Victor finished for him. “In town, you cast a spell to make everyone forget your face. If you can do it, surely others can as well.”

“I think we should have a trip into town, what do you say?” Nicholas asked. As he smiled one of his fangs caught the light coming through the glass and gleamed menacingly.