The Vampire & the Werewolf - Part V
She forced herself not to love the vampire, she remembers. And she succeeded admirably. It was one of those accomplishments that should receive a medal of some kind. For the first time ever in her long life of unrequited love, she actually managed to convince herself not to waste any time with someone who seemed to avoid her existence. She used his own weapon - logic and rational thinking. If you can't beat them, join them. If you can't make him love you, don't love him either.
What in the world was she thinking when she dreamed of sharing a life with a mature and social vampire? An impossibility. He has children, for goodness sake. He is a man of the world, someone who has a proper life, a respectable one, a normal, trivial life. She doesn't. How would she ever fit her surrealities into his everyday existence? How could she force him to do that? If not for anything else, it simply wouldn't be fair. Not to him, nor to her.
Perhaps in some other life. She likes to imagine that they had some kind of life together, or several lives together. Maybe he remembers because he is an immortal vampire. Or maybe amnesia falls upon him every time she dies and leaves him in a previous life. Or maybe there is some kind of initial amnesia but as soon as he sees her again in the next life everything starts coming back. If the latter is true, it takes some time for things to come back, she must confess. Or maybe she's just day dreaming, as usual.
The thing is she sensed something even before meeting him. Just the sound of his name was enough to move something inside her, she recalls. It was quite disturbing, now that she thinks of it. How can the sound of a complete stranger's name produce such a reaction? And then she saw him and fell in love almost immediately. He, apparentely, was not stricken by the same phenomenon. And yet ...
The werewolf, on the other hand, would be much more easy to fit into her surreal life. He's down to earth and a fighter. He understands the dark alleys of life, she guesses. He would understand her much better, if only he had the vampire's mind. She can imagine a certain amount of comfort shared with the werewolf, even if he seems anything but comfortable. She must say this in his defence - he is a man who feels confortable in his own skin, even though his walk is a little bit odd. She assumes that the nightly transformations into the animal kingdom have somehow disturbed his human locomotion.
And yet ... there is something there. Something must be there, or he wouldn't have spilt the water when they went for that coffee. And the flies ... The flies were chasing him relentlessly and she was sincerely trying not to notice his embarassment. The sun was in his eyes and the vampire was disturbed. Nervous. Out of his box. And telling her to go out of the box, praising her, telling her she had the intelectual ability to do it. He was the one who suggested the table in the sun. She wore sunglasses and was at ease. He was not. And she pitied him. She saw through all the layers and realised that there is a good heart lying underneath them. Can she love him again? Will she love him again? Does she want to love him again?
Not yet ...
When she came home she was sure she would bump straight into the werewolf and that's exactly what happened. Walking ahead of her. His legs slightly open, his walk slighlty awkward as if he would surely feel more confortable on all fours. As if to remind her that the competition is still on.
Has she decided?
Not yet ...
The thing is she sensed something even before meeting him. Just the sound of his name was enough to move something inside her, she recalls. It was quite disturbing, now that she thinks of it. How can the sound of a complete stranger's name produce such a reaction? And then she saw him and fell in love almost immediately. He, apparentely, was not stricken by the same phenomenon. And yet ...
The werewolf, on the other hand, would be much more easy to fit into her surreal life. He's down to earth and a fighter. He understands the dark alleys of life, she guesses. He would understand her much better, if only he had the vampire's mind. She can imagine a certain amount of comfort shared with the werewolf, even if he seems anything but comfortable. She must say this in his defence - he is a man who feels confortable in his own skin, even though his walk is a little bit odd. She assumes that the nightly transformations into the animal kingdom have somehow disturbed his human locomotion.
And yet ... there is something there. Something must be there, or he wouldn't have spilt the water when they went for that coffee. And the flies ... The flies were chasing him relentlessly and she was sincerely trying not to notice his embarassment. The sun was in his eyes and the vampire was disturbed. Nervous. Out of his box. And telling her to go out of the box, praising her, telling her she had the intelectual ability to do it. He was the one who suggested the table in the sun. She wore sunglasses and was at ease. He was not. And she pitied him. She saw through all the layers and realised that there is a good heart lying underneath them. Can she love him again? Will she love him again? Does she want to love him again?
Not yet ...
When she came home she was sure she would bump straight into the werewolf and that's exactly what happened. Walking ahead of her. His legs slightly open, his walk slighlty awkward as if he would surely feel more confortable on all fours. As if to remind her that the competition is still on.
Has she decided?
Not yet ...
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