Adonis was thankful, at the very least, that he held his ground. He didnât like being put in this position; didnât like the fact that he had to make choices for the both of them. He also hated the fact that he felt as though he were back at Harvard again; a young boy with his vulnerable heart on his sleeve. Charlotte had broken it then, and he was so bloody scared of her breaking it now that he felt as though there might be a cage around his heart.Â
Still, as he huffed down to the living room, finding his book and settling in his favorite chair, Adonis felt the cage loosen. There was something about Charlotte that made him want to hold on tightly to what he had, as well as give it all to her. That had always been the case, and yet Adonis had given her up once. Heâd let her go, afraid of what might be, of what he might be. She tip-toed into his space, and he kept reading, unable to stop himself from being slightly petty ( the cage was still there, after all, even if it was looser than before ). Still, at her questions, he couldnât help but break.
âOh my God,â Adonis laughed, almost in disbelief, at her words, unable to stop his own from tumbling from his mouth. âIs that what youâre upset about? My talking to my brother? With whom Iâm maybe, I donât know, finally reconciling?â Even as he asked the question, Adonis couldnât believe her selfishness. He knew that she could be, but with him⊠with them heâd always thought it was different; always thought that she would be happy for him the way that he would be happy for her, if one of her siblings were to turn up ( although it were unlikely ).
Obviously, he knew what she was trying to do, so he ran his hand over his face to calm him down. âAnd to answer your question, no,â he said simply. âBut I do have questions. Questions you wonât answer, and that your dearest Alyosha wonât answer. Why is that, Charlotte? Why does he hate you so much?â
His laughter hit like a slap to the face, Charlotte let the pain show across her delicate features. But no, he misunderstood, he had to. Sometimes she forgot how young he was, even though he very likely did not think of himself that way. He knew her intimately, every line and curve, but not yet every frantic connection her mind would make, not yet knowing how to anticipate her wants and needs before she even asked. But Charlotte was sure Adonis wanted to, and they would get there.
âYou didnât tell him about me,â the vampire knew she sounded petulant and gave into the accompanying pout. âAre you ashamed of me? Of what you have become? Did you think heâd think less of you?â As she often did, Charlotte had shifted quickly from petulant to soothing, breaking the invisible barrier between them to crawl into his lap, gently tugging the book from his hands and stroking his cheek. âNever forget, you are divine now, my perfect immortal Adonis. Donât shrink yourself for smaller minds.â
Her hand dropped from his face as if burned but did not move from where she was seated on his lap. Charlotte craved touch, in such a prolonged existence it was quite easy to get lost inside oneâs own head, sheâd seen others do it, the physical pretense of someone who adored her worked like an anchor to keep the vampire in the ephemeral present instead of the tempting beauty of eternity. But she should have known Alyosha would find some way to poison her creation against her. Perhaps it was jealousy, or perhaps heâd developed some horrid self-righteousness, centuries on the leash of humans might do that to a vampire. Really, she mourned for his loss, for his fall from power. Heâd had such potential. Or perhaps she was simply nostalgic for her very first.
But this was about Adonis, about preventing him from leaving her too, pulling away from the life and power and magic she could give him. Charlotte sighed, somewhat forlorn, and dropped her hands to her lap between them, twisting a ring around her finger.
âYouâll understand eventually, but for me time has such a different meaning now, and when I first created Alyosha, than it does in the first few years of immortality. Itâs both sped up and slowed down, memories exist in the present but also decades, centuries ago. He was the first, my first, and Iâd been alone for so long before finding him. But he began to doubt, doubt himself and his power and his worth, doubt me.â She offered a small, sad smile.
âAnd, Iâll admit, I myself was still young then, relatively speaking. Itâd taken me so long to recover from the death of my own creator,â unmentioned, but not unknown, was how heâd died at her hand. âImmortality is somewhat like being frozen in time, or rather, plucked from time entirely, in the same body for eternity. Our minds are quick to learn and grow, but attachment and emotions â those fickle human things, have a harder time adjusting quickly. Alyosha doubted me, and it seemed easier at that time to abandon him to his fate rather than allow myself to feel the pain of losing him. Perhaps he hates me for leaving him, perhaps he hates me for pitying how he made himself the lapdog of mortals, mundane mortals at that.â Charlotte looked up at him softly, almost pleading.
âI will always be a part of him, and perhaps he resents that. It hurts me to see him throwing away his gifts and power at the whims of those with such ephemeral existences.â Charlotte shrugged, âheâd grown to hate my intervening, I think. But if we were not divine beings meant to alter the ways of mere mortals, we would not have the power to do so, right?â