❛don’t let me forget❜
ㅤ ALEKSEI
ㅤ When did I fall asleep? This question roams my thoughts the instant that I slowly realize I’m waking up. My neck hurts. The soft smell of the pages of the biography I Had to Survive by Pablo Vierci and Dr. Roberto Canessa that is open over my face reminds me where I am, however, I feel as if my entire body has been remodeled into osmium.
ㅤ My eyes won’t open, and, deep down, I’m grateful that they won’t obey me. The atmosphere couldn’t be more welcoming than that. The yellow artificial light is cozy on the eyes and I can’t get tired of praising the acoustics that surround me. It makes me realize that I never had a proper sleep in as many centuries as I had last year. I’m getting used to it, I let out a grunt.
ㅤ Now, more awake than ever, I feel something weighing on my chest. It’s not heavy enough to make me short of breath, but it’s enough to make me feel that it’s there. A rhythmic, warm rush of air tickled my neck, and I instinctively, release the tension I’d been putting there.
ㅤ Aaah, I sigh inwardly, am I home? It’s hot, so I can only be at home.
ㅤ It’s hot, but it doesn’t smell like hell. The fragrance is an expensive, classic and sophisticated perfume. I only know one person who leaves a floral aldehydic trail of rose and jasmine.
ㅤ “If you’re awake, why don’t you open your eyes?” I hear her laugh radiantly.
ㅤ You...
ㅤ Maëlle’s breath brushes against my chin with a serene grace. She moves carefully, getting on top of me. “Are you ignoring me so I’ll go away?” Although her tone is still provocative, grace fills her voice.
ㅤ I don’t know how I should act. I know that if I open my eyes now, I’ll be able to see your face and... your smile. She’s smiling; I can feel it.
ㅤ “I want to see her!” The voice in my core jumps out, and it scares me. I feel his tail wagging all over the place, persuasive, and that’s not even the most embarrassing part. Don’t act like she owns us. I drag my hand heavily across my face, causing the book to fall to the floor. Do you even remember what our father said? Wolves don’t wear collars. He replies directly and mockingly, “We’re not wolves, Garmr. You know that.”
ㅤ It's enough to shut me up.
ㅤ Maëlle sighs, snapping me out of my thoughts. “It’s a real shame.” She stretches slyly, spreading herself across my chest and abdomen, pressing against me without caring what happens after that, bringing with her a hoarse moan that rises from my throat. “I left my entire schedule and rushed here to be the first to congratulate you, and this is how you receive me?”
ㅤ My eyes open wide with shock. Maëlle’s face is inches from mine; her eyes are looking at me, and just as I imagined, she has a wide, enthusiastic smile. I can see every single detail. The freckles and the glow in her irises. I reach out, but stop just before I reach the strands of her hair. She’s against the light, and I want to see more, but her locks covers part of her face.
ㅤ What’s going on? I grit my teeth, frowning. Suddenly, I become aware of the steady throbbing against my chest. It hurts, and it’s fast enough that I can’t keep up. I’m dying! I lift my torso and, sitting partially up, lean my weight on my hands and on the cushioned sofa beneath us. A bewildered expression briefly appears on Maëlle’s beautiful face, and I blink wildly.
ㅤ After long minutes immersed in an awkward silence, I see the smile return to Maëlle’s face, but this time she throws her head back, giving herself to laughter. “Come on, let’s go! I’m sure you’ll like what I’ve brought for you.”
ㅤ I swallow, and then I clear my throat, trying to disguise having been affected by her touch. Without question, I let Maëlle grab my forearm, and then I’m led up the stairs out of the library. I’m ready for the bright sun to blind my eyes, just like every time I leave my private cave, but I’m taken by a partially darkened corridor.
ㅤ “What the hell— what does that mean?” I mutter incredulously, noticing the glass of the window fog up with the heat of my breath. Outside, the sconces in the yard are lit, and there’s no sign of the sun rising. I can see from my reflection in the windows that my eyebrows are raised, and my chin is dropping. I point outside, astonished, “It’s still dawn.”
ㅤ She shrugged indifferently. I could go on in this endless cycle of interspersing my indignation between pointing at the yard and staring at her melodramatically, but my attention is absolutely diverted to the stacked boxes and personalized gift bags behind her.
ㅤ “What’s the occasion?” I wanted to know. What’s all this? I mutter to myself, taking from the top of the pile a little box tied with a satin ribbon in the shape of a bow.
ㅤ Maëlle raises an eyebrow and laughs like someone who has just heard a joke that seems unbelievable. “What do you mean, what’s the occasion?” She thickens her voice in imitation. “It’s your birthday, silly. Of course it is—your birthday, remember?” Her eyes search my face for confirmation, and slowly her confident smile crumbles.
ㅤ She speculates, “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” Not waiting for my answer, Maëlle extends her index finger, takes her leave for a moment, and pulls out her cell phone. She turns her back to me and walks away. Looking over her shoulder to make sure I’m far enough away, she gives me an embarrassed laugh before hastily poking her finger at the screen looking for something. Maëlle whispers to herself, believing I can’t hear her from here, “Today is nineteen, and it’s February. It should be today... Goddamn it, did I get the date wrong?” She whimpers the last part, bringing her thumb up to her teeth to bite the fake nail she made there.
ㅤ I want to tell her that she's not wrong. It’s the day I was born. I’ve also never understood the logic that humans use to make the day of their birth a celebration. The pharaohs considered themselves living gods on earth, but they had to celebrate being alive for another year. How pathetic!
ㅤ A few hours later...
ㅤ I hate to admit it again, but this is magnificent. Birthdays are also about being spoiled just for existing—and I can’t deny that’s the best part. To make up for the time spent away working, Maëlle brought me a mountain of presents. Some I had no idea I needed until she gave them to me. Others... I might never use.
ㅤ I won’t lie—getting all these gifts made me more excited than I should be. But right now, I can’t hide my excitement and hold back because of what I have in my hands. Limited editions. Books that haven’t even been released yet. Is that even possible?
ㅤ “It took a lot of work to get those,” Maëlle says proudly, tapping her forefinger on the hardback cover of what’s still an unpublished manuscript. “I had it bound. It looks much better now. Before, it was a mess—just loose pages everywhere.”
ㅤ My fingers trace the velvety surface of the cover, and I find myself admiring at the golden letters of the title: The Fate of the Sun. Is what is written.
ㅤ Before I know it, my arms are around her waist, lifting her off the ground as I spin her in the air. “I love it!” My gesture made her laugh—the sound contagious enough to pull laughter from me, too. As our laughter fades, I catch the glint of a small tear in the corner of her eye; her smile is still wide, and judging by the tingling in my cheeks, mine is too.
ㅤ It's as if time has stopped. I can’t help it—today, more than usual, my eyes keep finding her. Maëlle leans on my shoulder, and beneath her I can see her cheeks flushing. Her eyes look more vivid, as if they were smiling with to her beautiful face. I loosen my grip and ease her onto my lap. Now sitting on the sofa, her long, slender legs rest over my left thigh. There’s no trace of the playful energy from earlier.
ㅤ My eyebrows soften, as do the muscles in my face. Everything feels… lighter. There’s a faint smile on Maëlle’s lips, one I find myself falling into. I blink slowly, allowing myself to fully savor this moment with her.
ㅤ “It’s so nice to see you smiling like that, you know?” she murmurs, leaning in. My arms are still wrapped around her waist. I tilt my head slightly, and her fingers slide into the waves of my hair. Her pupils are dilated, revealing exactly what she wants. “You have a beautiful smile.”
ㅤ Sneakily, I bury my face between her breasts. “We can’t... This mustn’t happen again,” I mutter stubbornly, shifting my chin to where my face had been a moment ago. I press my fingers a little harder against the soft skin of her waist. The tension in my shoulders is palpable.
ㅤ “Then why?” she murmured, letting the silk robe slip from her shoulders.
ㅤ That was a mistake, I try to convince myself. But the memory of her beneath me clutching the sheets, her expression fragile and exposed... It won’t leave me. I’m being tormented more than I thought. I pull her onto my lap and, at the same moment, I feel her body shudder in that familiar way. I can’t have another relapse, I fight against the urge rising in me—the need to sink my teeth into her shoulder.
ㅤ “Kai...” Her voice sounds softer, more a breath than a word, like a plea spoken with affection. For me, it cuts deeper than an obsidian blade.
ㅤ I blink. My chest rises in a restrained sigh.
ㅤ “Don’t call me that,” I say hoarsely.
ㅤ “Is it really that bad?” she asks with a small smile, though her eyes remain serious. That's what I wanted—for it all to have been bad. From the very beginning. It would be much easier to deal with when the time comes to walk away.
ㅤ She continues, seeing the hesitation in my eyes. “I miss you so much... right here.” Her hand isn’t big enough to cover mine, but it’s enough to guide it down to the space between her thighs.
ㅤ I trail the tip of my nose into her neck, intoxicated by the scent exudes. I press into her shoulder, savoring her skin. My mind empties.
ㅤ I could stay like this for eternity, but then I hear an abrupt growl and my eyes snap open. It’s mine, I recognize it, yet I didn’t do it. Over Maëlle’s shoulder, my gaze sweeps the living room, while I feel my brow furrows. Nothing has changed. The room is quiet, calm, just as it was moments ago. Sunlight filters through the windows, veiled by thick clouds, bringing the sensation of possible rain.
ㅤ My eyes land on the vase beside the coffee table. The artificial flowers are starting to wilt—drying, cracking, falling apart.
ㅤ “Aleksei?” I hear Maëlle’s voice, but I don’t answer. She turns to follow my gaze, confused. She doesn’t seem to be hearing what I’m hearing. “What? What are you looking at?”
ㅤ My own voice echoes throughout the living room, even without me opening my mouth. The oath I swore to Hel hits me like a tidal wave, sweeping me away and sinking me into anguish.
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