A Collection of Stories

Star-Crossed

Summary:

Anastasia and Vincent are meant to be. They are almost like the average teenager, but they have a secret. They're immortal.

*

Anastasia

Today I am moving into Aunt Sofiya and Uncle Henry's home. Mom and Dad said it was better for me 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 Colette, everything on his mind.

And I get this odd feeling when he talks about Aunt Colette, 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 and visit Mom and Dad, but it was too dangerous to stay there, where Victoria could find me. Uncle Henry and Aunt Sofiya recreated my bedroom, gave me everything that I would miss at home.

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 Colette 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. Before I could kiss him back, Vincent pulled back quickly, pushing himself onto his feet. He swallowed hard, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry. That was out of place." He mumbled. I got up and started to walk to him, but before he reached me, he ran out of my room. I felt like crying, why did he run away? I was finally starting to piece together what these stupid feelings meant. I was falling for him, but he didn't feel the same way. I rushed out of my room and went looking for him.

Vincent

I drove to Colette's house; I couldn't believe I just did that.

I mean, I'm not great with telling people how I feel about them, especially telling Ana how I've felt about her for the past few years. I love her so much, I can't take it anymore. Kissing her, it felt so good. But she didn't kiss me back, well; I'm guessing she was about to when I pulled back. But she might not feel the same way about me, or just want to keep things as is until we're like a thousand years old.

I sat on her couch, waiting anxiously. She warned me that I might be like Dad, extremely horrible at showing his real feelings. He hurt Mom like that for months after she came back from her first time away from him. The only other time away from him was when she was pregnant with me, and it wasn't voluntarily. I didn't want to screw with Ana's feelings, and I didn't want to hurt her either. But if I was anything like Dad, it was inevitable.

Colette came in a half hour later, a faint smile on her face. She understood how I felt so well, even if I didn't tell her about it. Once she saw me, distraught on her couch, her smile dropped. She walked over to the couch and sat next to me, running a hand through my hair. "V, what's wrong?" She whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"I kissed her, Colette." I said. "I didn't tell her how I felt about her, but I kissed her."

Colette kissed my cheek, turning my face toward hers. I opened my eyes and looked at her. "Did she kiss you back?" She whispered.

"She was about to and I pulled away before she could. Colette, what if I am like Dad? What if I hurt Ana? I don't want to hurt Ana, I love her, Colette." I whispered, tugging at my hair.

She stopped my hands and took them in hers, squeezing them gently. "Vincent, you are exactly like your father. You worry about the littlest thing and have the biggest heart when it comes to loving someone." She said. "Anastasia loves you, Vincent. Right now, she's searching all over the house for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know that?" I asked, searching her eyes for an answer.

She smiled faintly, kissing my cheek. "It's my job to know this stuff." She said softly. "And she asked me to help look for you. So I came here." She added.

I nodded slightly, standing up. "Where is she now?" I asked softly. Ava stood and wrung her hands together.

"The last time I saw her, she was going to your room. She figured you'd come home sooner or later. She's so worried about you Vincent. Ana really looked like she was going to cry," She murmured, looking at me. My stomach clenched. God, I was starting to hurt her. Colette looked at me, touching my arm lightly. "Go to her, Vincent. She needs you." She said softly. I nodded and got up, sprinting to my car and driving home.

I was silent so she couldn't hear me, but I could hear her. She was cursing, my chest tightened. I walked over and sat next to her, taking her hands in mine. She jumped and looked at me, her eyes wide. I pulled her close and took her face in my hands, staring at her eyes. God they were so beautiful. I leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away. When she didn't, I leaned in the rest of the way and kissed her softly.

And this time she kissed me back, tangling her fingers in my hair. I smiled against her lips and pulled her into my lap, pulled back slightly. She smiled and rested her forehead against mine, letting her burgundy hair cover her cheeks. I tucked a piece behind her ear, which made her blush.

"So I'm the lucky girl." She said, running her fingers through my hair. I stroked her hair, nodding slightly. She closed her eyes, smiling faintly. I knew she was picturing our future together.