Haunting Dorian

12 - Artists and their peculiarities

By the time Dorian woke up on Sunday, Melinda had left. Dorian tried to stay calm and go on with his day without worrying too much. Would she have taken off during the night? Dorian worriedly thought of how he'd been acting cold and dismissive towards her lately and how she could have thought he just didn't care anymore. Paranoia was eating away at him alive.

Melinda returned once Dorian had had breakfast. Or what his mother had finally agreed with. Dorian drove a hard bargain when he knew exactly what he wanted. He sat in the middle of his bed, a book with his finger between the pages laying on his stomach. But there was a sad and empty glint in his eyes when he stared across the room.

"I don't normally pay attention to how you dress but you look very... Dark today."

He barely acknowledged her presence, with a fleeting look. "I feel very dark today."

"Well, oh Dark one, what seems to be the problem?"

"You're leaving soon, aren't you? Before I become too weak again." Melinda was thrown back by the amount of hatred and venom in his voice.

"Dorian, I have to. It's not weakness, it's sickness." She sunk down on the edge of his bed and furrowed her eyebrows.

"What about your redemption?"

"I found more than enough with you. Dorian, you need to let me go."

"I don't want to."

"Stop being so childish! I don't want to hurt you, Dorian, but the longer I stay, the more I will. You won't develop immunity against whatever force this is."

"Perhaps, I will. How do you know?"

"I know because I've seen it before."

He looked hurt. "You did this with someone before?" Oh, Dorian.

Melinda slowly shook her head, debating her answer. "I haven't told you everything, Dorian. But the last time this happened, was three centuries ago. And it was with you." His mouth fell open immediately and Melinda jumped to shutting up any question he might have. "You can't ask anything about it, please. I can't tell you. But it was a time when neither of us wanted to let go and for one of us it cost a life."

"Why can't I ask about it?"

"Because I'm already telling you too much."

"So you're really going then?"

"I don't want to repeat past mistakes. I have to let you go. And I want you to do the same thing. I can't... Go without you forgiving me for leaving you."

"I want you to stay with me, I won't hide that."

"This was never meant to be permanent."

"Then what was it meant to be?"

"A reminder, I suppose."

"A reminder of something you won't tell me again?" She responded with a secretive, tight-lipped smile and Dorian dropped back on his bed. "Yeah, keep me in the dark then."

She watched him in silence for some time. She stretched her legs out beside the bed and caught sight of something dangling out of a box. It was a ceramic tooth with a leather ribbon through it. A necklace.

"I want to do something with you before I go. I can't just up and leave you sulking here," she said and jumped up. It took some time, but hesitantly, Dorian glanced at her.

"What exactly do you want to do?"

She grinned widely and twirled in the middle of the room. When she stopped she bowed deeply. "I want to bestow upon you, my faithful friend, a gift."