"Hey, Princess," I murmured, shifting uncomfortably on the floor. She didn't stop me, so I continued. "Is there something you want for your birthday?"

The second I said it, I knew it was a stupid question. She was a rich noble with everything she could ever desire, and even if there was something she wanted, it's not like I could get it for her. But what else could we talk about? Why she let me stay? Why I wasn't being tortured in the dungeons for all of eternity? Why the hell she thought holding up a crucifix was enough to keep me from attacking her again?

"I'm just curious," I added quickly. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

She sighed quietly and didn't respond. For the past few days, I felt like I was walking on eggshells around her, and I wasn't sure what had her so upset. It was like we went right back to the month or so after she found out I was a monster. Her guard was up, she stopped dancing, and her smiles no longer reached her eyes.

I wish I had known why, but I was far from being a worthy confidant. Instead, I did everything I could to stay out of her way and keep from causing her any kind of problem. Not that I was any good at keeping out of her affairs.

After a long moment of panicked silence, I built up enough courage to whisper, "... Princess? Are you alright? I know you aren't asleep. I can hear your heartbeat." I cringed at the last part; she didn't need any more reminders of my cursed existence.

"Why are you here?" she demanded, her harsh tone taking me by surprise.

For a second, I lost myself in the piercing blue of her gaze and almost told her the truth.

Because an old lady brought me back to life and apparently that means ancient law binds me to her until I pay for my life with another of her choice.

But I didn't. A part of me wanted to explain everything, and another begged me to tell her that I stayed because of her--which technically wasn't wrong. Instead, I settled on "Because I have to be. What about you? Why do you stay?"

My eyebrow raised when she whispered back, mimicking me. "Because I have to stay."

"Why?"

I heard her shift. "Because." She seemed to want to end the conversation, but I was desperate to hear her speak.

"You could leave, you know? It's not as bad out there as everybody seems to believe." I made a noise when I realized the hole in my argument: it was bad enough out there for me to die and be brought back to life as a bloodsucking monster, so yeah, it was probably about as bad as everybody thought.

She sat up, reaching over to pull open her curtains and let the moonlight shine in. I closed my eyes a moment, relishing in the feel of the moon on my skin. When I looked back at her, the expression on her face told me everything she refused to admit aloud: that she couldn't see past the pronounced canines and red eyes. That she would never take anything I said to heart. That she saw me as a threat and nothing more.

Gathering courage from the frustration of being misjudged, I walked over and leaned my arms against her bed, staring out the window with her.

"I used to love the moon," I said conversationally, doing my best to ignore her rigged posture and the way the moonlight made her hair sparkle and her soft skin pale. "I would sit outside at night and stare at the sky until the sun rose. When it got cold, I'd let the dog curl up on my lap."

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to talk about my life with a girl who so obviously didn't want to care, but I did it anyway.

"My dad used to get mad at me for staying up all night; mom would roll her eyes from across the table and toss me a bowl; my brother would just smirk at me while I was chastised." I swallowed thickly, hoping she didn't take note when I cleared my throat and forced myself to change the topic. "I always wondered who else was staring at the sky with me. I wondered if they felt as lost as I do. Or if maybe they had finally found their purpose and they were sending up a thank you to the heavens. Sometimes I wonder if my family watches the stars like I used to."

I glanced at her, wishing she would do something other than sit there like a statue. "Did you ever stare at the stars?" I asked. When she didn't respond, I continued. "I had a friend who would come and sit with me sometimes, but she would always fall asleep in the grass with my dog before the sun could rise. It got to the point where I wondered if she came for my company or the dog's."

She didn't move, and I was beginning to wonder if she was still listening. I sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter in the long run. I used to look up and think 'there's something more out there for me. This isn't the way I was meant to live,' but now, I can't even go outside without feeling like a monster."

My jaw clenched, teeth moaning under the pressure. “I was such a naive idealist.” She didn't move, didn't speak, she barely even breathed. I knew she didn't care.

I huffed, upset with her for judging me for being something I didn't want to be, upset with myself for thinking that she would bother responding to me, the ultimate burden on her existence, and upset with the God I used to praise for allowing me to become like this. I threw one of her many pillows at the back of her head.

"Hey," she snapped, spinning around to face me, annoyed that I had disrupted her introspective moment and clutching at the crucifix around her neck.

"You only live once," I said, forcing myself to maintain some semblance of calm. "Even if you come back, you only live once." I met her eyes, voice quieting when I saw a flicker of interest in her angered gaze. "So stop your moping. I don't know why you're a mess right now, Princess, but I can't stand to watch you act like this. Maybe you don't have much say around here, but at least you have a life." 

I slumped back to the floor, uncomfortable with the prolonged staring contest. My eyes found the moon again, shining calmly through the window, and I dared to run my tongue over my teeth just to feel the sharp canines prick my skin. "Some of us never got that."

It didn't take very long before she met my gaze with a glare of her own and told me to get out.

Reluctantly, I nodded and made my way back to my room. It wasn't much, but there was a window that opened and a door that closed, so I had no right to complain.

Most nights I spent leaning on the windowsill staring at the stars, but I could barely stand the sight of them that night. I closed the curtains slowly, feeling as if I had somehow betrayed the moon, and sagged against the wall.

"You're not worth shit here, Ivy," I reminded myself. "Learn to shut up."