Love on the Rocks

The fading sunlight bathed everything but us, protected by my quick thinking. My flesh still burned but it was worth a little death to see Josie’s adorable smile. She clung to my arm, and my undead heart shuddered as I felt her happily sigh. I only had foue more days with her before she went back to Chicago and I was destroyed again. She kissed my cheek, pulling me from the future.

“How many girls were you before me?” she asked.

“Oh, I dont know. Thousands.”

“Leta!” she yelled, smacking my shoulder.

“I mean, I had a couple dates here and there in the 1960s but I wasnt really allowed to be with anyone.”

“Because gay people weren’t allowed?”

“What? No. My mom just said no dating,” I said with a chuckle. “Vampires have been around so long that we don’t really give a damn about himan rules. Everything you all think you are breaking barriers with throuhh legislature has been normal for me since I was born.”

“Whoa. I wish I could be a vampire.”

A chill wriggled down my spine. The desire that humans had to be a vampire was beyond me. Living in the shadows, watching everyone you love dying, having to adjust your life and mindset every sixty years because of humans moving another inch towards equality. Josie stirred a bit and I remembered her being there. I tuned into her humming a Spanish song.

“What do you want to do when the sun goes down?” she asked.

“We could probably go to a diner.”

“Can you even eat real food?” she chuckled.

The more she talked, the more I was realizing we didn’t know each other. I sneezed. Josie moved away from me. I covered my mouth, though I was happy she had moved away. Her concerned look instantly made me recant that statement. Shw felt my forehead and looked worried.

"You shouldnt have come out so early, Aleta."

"No, its fine, really," I lied.

"It's not. Come on. I'll walk you home."

I ttied to protest but she pulled me to my feet and we walked through the Necropolis towards my house. Her hand was warm in mine, and she smelled like cinnamon. A breeze blew. The last time I felt this way about anyone was 1916 with Zachary Williams before he pretended he was eighteen and died in war. Neither of them could ever understsnd what it was like to be me, yet like with Zach, I could tell that she was trying. It made me not want to let go when we made it to my front door.

"You sure I can't stay?" she asked.

"My family would eat you alive," I joked.

She chuckled and kissed my cheek.

"Get some rest, okay?" she said.

I nodded and went inside, leaving her on my porch under my favorite blue umbrella.