The Last Harmon [Complete]

Chapter 44

My mind wakes up from the sound of the annoying birds outside my window. I groan to myself as I stretch. I lay there for around a minute, looking from the picture frame to the door of my bedroom, lightly sighing as I remember that it's real. Yesterday actually happened, it wasn't a bad dream, and I get to spend the last day of my life as a witch inside a home that I've always felt never defined me. I decide to leave the bed and face the day, as horrifying as it is, but I am met with a much bigger shock.

Someone sits on the end of my bed. My heart accelerates and I push myself up my bed as I squeal. I start to realise who it is, and although it calms me, I'm still pissed.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demand, pulling the cover over my chest. "I almost killed you!"

Sam breathes heavily and turns his head slightly to the right. "You should lock your front door. Anyone could walk right in."

"Noted," I say. I stare at him, wondering what this is about. He lifts himself up from the bed and paces slowly around my room. "Are you going to tell me what you're doing here?"

"I was convinced to talk to you before it's too late. The unit, they. . . don't want you to leave."

"Okay," I say. "But I've already left."

"I told them that. It was either I came, or they all turned up to stop you. They just wanted to make sure that you knew that you have a home with us, especially since discovering that you're genetically one of us."

"I understand all of my options," I say. "Trust me, I didn't leave because I wanted to and you said you wouldn't stop me."

"I said I wouldn't stop you as long as you wanted to leave. If you're happy here, if you want to start a new life here, then I'll walk out of that door and you'll never see me again. But if you're doing this because you feel obligated to correct the world, then you can share that burden with others that are in a position to help you."

"What are you doing, Sam?" I sigh. "You wanted me to do this. You weren't exactly protesting the idea of me being Elder."

"I didn't think you'd actually go through with it. Natalia said your coronation is tonight. How is that-"

"You've spoken to Natalia?" I hiss. "What else did she tell you?"

"Enough," he says. "I'm trying to protect you from being on the demons' radar. If you become the Elder then you may as well paint a target mark on your back."

"And if I stay with you and become a Slayer then they'll be able to sense me all the same."

"At least then I'll be able to keep you safe."

"What is your obsession with keeping me safe all of a sudden?" I demand. "You weren't thinking of my safety when you practically forced me to tag along to that plane, or when you dropped me off at a camp run by Slayers. Or when you threatened to end my life at least a dozen times."

"For the first few weeks, yes I'll admit I was testing you in the wrong way. But these last couple of weeks, something changed."

"Is that why you kissed me and couldn't look at me after? Because 'something changed.'" I leave the bed angrily, not caring that I'm merely dressed in a thin gown. "What changed, Sam? I saved your life, did that change us? We killed Amara together, did that change us? What changed?"

"I don't know!"

"I told you I wouldn't be your shame and I meant it. I'm going to become the Elder tonight and with any luck it'll destroy any connection I have to being a Slayer because I don't want to be like you. Do you even have any idea what you want? You lead your units and you carry your burdens but what else is there? When it's all over, what do you have? A legacy of death? At least I'm trying to leave behind more than a trail of bodies."

"You have no clue what it's like to be me," he says angrily, banging his fist against my desk. The whole thing trembles and I step backwards. "Do you think I want to kill? Do you think I like it? I hate myself for being this way. Every time I take a life, it's in self-defense, but I guess that makes no difference to you."

I take a deep breath, watching his hand cautiously. "Maybe we should calm down."

"What? You think I'll hurt you?" he laughs to himself and shakes his head. "You're the one person I can't hurt, Theresa."

"You already have hurt me, Sam."

"I wasn't ashamed because of you," he whispers as he starts to close the gap. Heat begins to generate in the pit of my stomach and I can't fight it. "I just didn't handle it very well."

I roll my eyes. "I can't do this. Just go. Please." I push past him to get to my bathroom and I slam the door closed. I lean against the door for a few seconds as I try to breathe to get my pulse slower.

I use the toilet, wash my face, brush my teeth and I stare at my dark curls in the mirror. I hold my hair in my fingertips, twisting it into small loops as I glance back to the door. Part of me is hoping he's gone so I don't have to face the truth of my emotions, while the other part of me, the strongest part, wants him to still be there.

I open the door slowly, taking a deep breath. My heart accelerates again when I look at him. He sits at the end of my bed, peering at me in deep thought. I try to walk around him, but he reaches out and takes my hand as he stands. I glare down at his touch, startled by it.

"You asked me what I want," he says. "Outside of being a Slayer and having the world on my shoulders, there's not much I do want. But when I'm around you, I can feel that I want something more. That I want to be more. I have been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that herb shop and even though I'm still trying to understand it, I don't want to ignore it. Not when I'm this close to losing it."

He places a hand to my face and I feel obligated to get lost inside his eyes. My hand gently caresses his chest and his heart beats slowly against my fingertips. There's only the two of us in the room, in the whole universe, and we both know what's coming next.

"Maybe we should control ourselves before we do something we're going to regret."

He holds my eyes as he removes his hand. When his touch leaves me, I feel cold and bereft, as though I'm falling out of the world.

"I should leave you to prepare for your coronation," he whispers.

"No," I say.

I pull him back to me with the force of a piece of paper, but he comes, like a moth to that flame, he comes. I crush my lips to his, and our hands are everywhere. The heat returns and I leave that cold and lonely place. Inside his arms, I find somewhere better. He lifts me from the ground and I wrap my legs around his waist as we move to the bed.

There isn't time for conscious thinking, the moment is flying. I remove his jacket slowly and I pull up his shirt. His bare skin rubs against my gown as he kisses my throat and then his hands start running up my body, the gown along with it. I lay below him, panting against his lips. I never imagined we'd end up here, but I can't deny that I want it more than anything. It's a selfish greed, a needless urge, a moment of pure concentrated ecstasy.

He's a drug that I have to take. He's the warmness of my stomach and the deadly rhythm of my heart. It's familiar to me, but very strange to him. To be this human, this alive, with each other. To only acknowledge the other, to only give the attention that we allow, to not have to think about anyone or anything else that can stop us. It makes me smile. We both smile. It's the longest I've ever seen him smile.

The world keeps turning and we are floating in space. Up here, all of our responsibilities are far below us, lost in the green and blue. My head is gone, my heart is screaming, and my body is somewhere close to him.