I had decided to skip school again today; there was no point in going if Kaitlin wasn't going to be there.

Facing the window, I gazed out over the forest, my thoughts tangled in the quiet hum of the evening. Where should I take her tomorrow? In just two weeks, we'd built a connection that felt deeper than time—like we'd known each other for years. And yet, the more I thought about it, the more I realised how little I truly knew about her.

Not the surface stuff, but the things that really mattered. The kind of things that told you who someone was when no one was watching.

I knew what deepest darkest secret should be – being a half-angel – but what did I know? I knew that she didn't like potentially hurting other people's feelings, from the way she reassured me yesterday, and it was clear she was a smart and dedicated student at school.

And I knew I was deeply in love with her. It should have been inevitable from the start; it should have expected from the day I fist laid eyes on her. But was it stupid? I had only known her for just over two weeks.

I let my eyes drift shut as the memory of that first day replayed in my mind. The moment she stepped into the classroom, I knew—she wasn't ordinary. There was something unexplainable about her, something otherworldly. An invisible aura shimmered around her, not in light or colour, but in presence.

It was like the air bent gently around her, as if the world itself paused to make room for her grace.

That soft halo—seen only by those who knew what to look for—was the quiet signature of something angelic.

And then there was her beauty: the delicate curve of her small nose, perfectly placed between eyes the colour of deep emerald forests; her chestnut hair swept up into a loose knot, with wisps dancing freely around her face; and her lips, full and trembling at the corners in a nervous, gentle smile.

She didn't know it then, but I'd already begun to fall.

I laughed softly, reminiscing over that memory; it was one of my favourites. Then I thought about our first conversation. When Ms. Kently had asked for someone to be her buddy, I immediately threw my hand up, knowing I would do anything to be placed with her. When no one else raised their hand, I was deeply surprised - everyone should have been fighting over this girl.

Walking over to her, a deep blush spread across her cheeks as she peered me up and down. "I'm Jacob Cruor. But most people call me Jake," I had said. She introduced herself again and looked embarrassed.

It took every ounce of my energy not to laugh at her nervous stuttering... I always had that effect on people, but there was something amusing watching her transition through the different emotions.

Although she was beautiful, I had always refused to fall for someone based on their beauty alone. It was only allowed to be a contributing factor.

I thought over the past two weeks I spent with her, getting to know her. Even though I didn't actually know much about her, anyone could tell she had a good heart.

Yesterday when I had told her she was a half-Angel, and I was a half-Vampire, she took the information so well. I had been expecting her to run away screaming and crying, flapping her arms in the air and shouting at me. At first, she thought I was just joking, but then she believed me so easily.

Then I remembered the conversation we'd had about my mother. I opened my eyes and walked closer to the window. Leaning my elbows on the windowsill, I tried not to think about her. Losing her had been the worst thing that ever happened to me, and I had spent many sleepless nights crying alone in my bedroom.

Kaitlin looked hurt when I told her my story, and it made my heart flutter knowing cared about my feelings. But I had only told her the surface of the story.

Before my dad lost control and killed my mother, they had gotten into a terrible fight. Memories of their yelling echoed in my ears like a clash of shattering plates, and I pressed my hands over my ears as if to muffle it.

They had never gotten over their fight when my mother cut herself. What I didn't tell Kaitlin was that it was never an accident. She was feeling so much pain that night she didn't know how else to ease it.

I remembered the way my dad's eyes flashed, and his face twisted into pain as he tried for a split-second to control his thirst. In the end, his immense hunger for blood won over his mind and body.

He lunged at her like an animal, no trace of humanity left in his eyes. The sickening crack of her skull colliding with the sharp corner of the kitchen counter echoed through the room, followed by the splatter of blood as it sprayed against the white tiles. She collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony, her body convulsing as her hands clutched at the wound, red spilling between her fingers like a broken promise.

The scream that tore from her throat wasn't just pain—it was betrayal, heartbreak, terror all in one. And he didn't stop. He crouched over her crumpled body, lips brushing against her throat in a mockery of affection—then he bit down, hard.

The skin split beneath his teeth with a sickening squelch, and the blood flowed freely, warm and thick. He drank without hesitation, ignoring the way she weakly tried to push him off, her strength fading with every heartbeat he stole.

Her eyes found mine as the light began to fade from them, and in that moment, I swear I saw her pleading—for help, for mercy, for him to come back to his senses. But it was too late.

The entire time, I was hitting him—punching, clawing, screaming until my throat felt like it had been ripped raw. But deep down, I knew the truth. I knew there was nothing I could do to save her. I'd lost control once before, years ago, and I understood the hunger—the madness. Once a vampire snapped, it was nearly impossible to stop feeding. Still, I fought with everything I had.

With a burst of desperate, superhuman strength, I managed to wrench his face away from her throat. But it was too late.

Her eyes... they were no longer vibrant or full of life. They stared up at the ceiling, glazed and empty. Her skin, which had always been so warm and soft against mine, was pale—cold. Her lips were frozen mid-scream, twisted with unbearable pain and horror.

And then I saw it.

Her hand was clutching mine. So tight, it had left red indents in my nearly indestructible skin. She hadn't been trying to protect herself. She had been reaching for me. While I'd been fighting him, she'd been silently begging me to save her.

And I didn't.

What I thought were my father's arms yanking me back had, in truth, been hers—one last, wordless plea for help.

That was the moment everything inside me shattered. I could never forgive him. Not now. Not ever. He hadn't just killed her—he'd destroyed the one person who made me feel human.

I still remember the tears that slid silently down my cheeks that night—memory-tears, as if my body was trying to cry without knowing how.

Vampires aren't supposed to cry.

And for a long time, everyone believed I couldn't either.

But the night I realised my mother was dead—the night I realised he had killed her—was the night I discovered that even monsters can mourn.

Only something truly horrific could bring a half-Vampire to tears—and that moment, that inescapable, soul-crushing pain, had triggered my first.

Even now, just thinking about it made my chest tighten. A single tear traced the curve of my cheek before I quickly wiped it away. If my father walked in and saw me crying, I wouldn't know how to explain it. I couldn't explain it.

Sometimes, I still wonder if I was wrong to forgive him. But deep down, I know it's what she would have wanted. She wouldn't have wanted me to live tangled in hatred and guilt. She always believed in grace, in second chances... even for someone who didn't deserve them. She would've forgiven him.

My elbows trembled on the windowsill, and I noticed faint dents pressed into the wood beneath them. I slowly pulled away, realising just how tightly I'd been gripping it.

Then, I took three steadying breaths, trying to quiet the storm inside me. My body was still shaking.

I went to sit back down on the bed, and tried to think of something that would make me happy – Kaitlin.

In a desperate attempt to brighten my mood, I thought about where I should take her tomorrow. Somewhere private where I could ask her questions about herself and get honest answers, but somewhere that wasn't so alone she would feel scared being with a half-Vampire.

I didn't want to earn her trust only to shatter it, the way my father did to my mother. I couldn't become him—I refused to become him. I could never do to Kaitlin what he did to her.

She should hate me. By all laws of nature and blood, we were meant to be enemies—opposite sides of a war that had burned through centuries. Just being seen together would be a sin worthy of hell.

But none of that mattered. Not really.

Because no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hide how I felt about her. Not from myself. Not from her.

Maybe we could break the rules. Rewrite the ending. Maybe, together, we could defy every expectation and choose love instead.

I couldn't lie to myself – there was still the very real possibility that she didn't like me back. But it was very hard to forget the blush that flooded her cheeks as she looked at me, and the way she wasn't scared with the truth.

It was kind of ironic she wasn't worried - at least I think - about being in the company of someone with Vampire blood, but was more worried about what this would mean for our relationship; our untouchable friendship.

Even though I assured her that would never happen, I knew deep in my veins it was a lie. I couldn't be certain something wouldn't rip us apart, I couldn't tell her that. Not yet. I needed her, and it would cause me hurt more than I could even fathom if something happened to her... to us.

Shit. Was it stupid I already felt this way when we weren't even together yet?

Maybe one day when we are closer than ever, I would tell her that there will always be something trying to rip us apart.

Whether that's our sides of a war, or her mother - I chuckled at the thought – there where forces beyond our control that would do anything to keep as apart. But I hoped we could be stronger.

I'm getting distracted. I shouldn't be thinking about the things that would make me upset. Once again, I tried to plan out my day tomorrow with Kay. She seemed to like the outdoors, so I thought maybe a park. But the bench in the trees yesterday reminded me of a quaint park in many ways, and I didn't want tomorrow to be the same as yesterday.

A walk in the woods? No, that made it seem like I wanted to kidnap her, or was taking her away to drink her blood.

A beach? I wasn't sure if she could swim, but it seemed romantic enough.

The only problem was the energy I could feel pulsing in the air – there was storm brewing in the sea. Although, despite the weather, there were always a few stubborn humans who decided to go swimming anyways. We wouldn't be entirely alone, but we could have a romantic picnic on the sand.

A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth, pulling my expression into something brighter, more certain. Tomorrow would be perfect. I knew it. Tomorrow, I would finally get to learn everything about her—the pieces of her that had been hidden for so long, the secrets she carried like shadows at the edge of her smile. And then, once I knew it all, I'd tell her how I felt. How much she meant to me. Then we could get ice cream.