A Collection of Stories

Immortal Love

VINCENT AND ANASTASIA

All grown up

Anastasia

Today I am moving into Aunt Isobel and Uncle Henry’s realm. Mom and Dad said it was better for me down there, but I knew they were lying to me. Grandfather told me what was going to happen to me when I entered my teens. I honestly don’t think I’ll fall in love with Vincent, but the dying thing, I believe that.

Vincent and I have always been friends; we share the same birthday and everything. He tells me about what going on with him, girls that interest him, his affair with Aunt Avery, everything on his mind. And I get this odd feeling when he talks about Aunt Avery, almost a twinge of jealousy. I don’t know why I would feel jealous; I’ve always loved him like a friend, like a brother. And truth is he feels the same way about me.

~

Vincent and Uncle Henry helped me carry the last few boxes into my new room. I could still go up and visit Mom and Dad, but it was too dangerous to stay up there, where Calliope could find me. Uncle Henry and Aunt Isobel recreated my bedroom, gave me everything that I would miss up above. Once every box was in my room, Uncle Henry left, leaving me and Vincent alone. I flopped on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Vincent sat next to me, smiling faintly. I raised an eyebrow and put my head in his lap.

“What are you smiling about?” I asked. He braided and unbraided my hair several times before answering me.

“I’ve been talking with Avery for a while now, and she’s helped me realize I’ve fallen in love.” He said softly. That awful, painful bubble came back. I made sure it didn’t show on my face. I didn’t need him asking questions about what I was feeling. Vincent looked down at me, running his fingers through my hair.

“So, who is this lucky girl?” I asked softly, avoiding his eyes. The bubble of jealousy was replaced with butterflies in my stomach. Why was I feeling like this? I didn’t want to have these feelings of butterflies and of jealousy. I hated feeling confused, I hated feeling like I was falling for Vincent, my best friend, the one thing that brings me back down to earth.

Vincent continued running his fingers through my hair, thinking whether or not to tell me about this girl. “What are you thinking about?” He asked, changing the subject. I shrugged, snuggling into him. “Oh, surely there must be something in that brilliant head of yours.” He said, tipping my head up to look at him.

He was searching my eyes, waiting for me to answer him. I wanted to tell him about these feelings, hoping he’d have an answer for me, or be able to tell me they’ll go away. I bit my lip, closing my eyes. I always did this when I didn’t want to talk about anything. And Vincent always respected that, and he always started talking about something else. I waited a few moments for him to talk, but only felt a slight shift in movement.

I opened my eyes and saw Vincent hovering above me, his eyes closed like he was concentrating on something. His longish, black hair had fallen over his eyes. I reached up and brushed them back. He opened his eyes immediately, catching my hand and looking at me with his light blue eyes. My breath caught in my throat, staring at him. His eyes were so beautiful, so breath taking. Wait, why did I think that? He’s my best friend, practically my brother.

He swallowed, his eyes never leaving mine. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine softly. I stilled for a moment. This couldn’t be happening; Vincent was—was kissing me? The butterflies in my stomach multiplied, making me feel nervous. Something I didn’t enjoy feeling. But the softness and warmth I felt from his lips, it washed away the nervousness and replaced it with this feeling I couldn’t describe.