I AM THE DESPAIR IN MY HEART.

                    “Only took forever and a day but you finally got me out here,” a stern tone encapsulated the very timbre of his voice, only melting away as a chuckle soon tumbled from flaxen countenance, an arm wrapping around his girlfriend in tandem. The timid warmth that blanketed porcelain skin now under the guise of Italy’s climate was a complete imbalance to that of the searing heat which he had grown accustomed to amiss the asphalt of New York, suddenly grateful for their granted reprieve as his once beloved city crumbled under that of supernatural duress. Hands found her sides, a pertly recherche grin overcoming his features as Holden could only tease her of all the things he was eternally fond of when it came to Josefine. “Now, I know you’ve got some day planner hidden where you’ve etched out every second of every day for the next few weeks. I know it was a hefty list of things you’ve had to show me.” While her perpetual youth could once frighten him at the genesis of their relationship, Holden had since become enamored with all the things that refined her to such cultivated essence. 

                    Holden blinked as if in mock surprise by her final statement, “Could have fooled me on that, too.” His head bowed, an inquiry stumbling out in tandem curiosity, “Haven’t you got any information on these psychos?”

                    In all veracity, it was another life James had promised to hide from Harper, the means of saying that it was a lot to take in a horrid understatement. Holden was an accomplice in such pull of the rug, sweeping away another sense of comfort from the russet haired woman as if he even had anything left to viscerally take away from her, gnawing on his bottom lip as a dry chuckle left him. “I don’t think you want me to go into that,” Holden woefully shook his head, the two prominent ways to rid the world of vampires hardly a savory topic. He leaned forward once more as timbre of his voice was lowered in tandem secrecy, “Just know that for every.... supernatural being there are two times the amount of people that want to — and can — stop them.” The reminder that there were originals out there was hardly a topic he wished to rally at her in this very moment, his own verdant hues near yearning for any insight past her valid inquietude. 

                    “He... he didn’t want to scare you with all of this. He made Aurora and I promise to keep it a secret from you and I don’t know — I felt I needed to keep that promise even when he’s gone...” Holden’s head bowed, overcome with that sense of grief that always lingered beneath the surface. It was these rare moments when he was able to speak of James that it bubbled over, offering a near meager shrug, “James actually told me everything about all these creatures. I mean, we... we never hunted anything that wasn’t bothering anybody — but there are definitely clues. Vampires are cold, to say the least and wolves... they run hotter than most, both in temperature and personality.” A gauche chuckle fell from his lips, wringing his hands together, unsure of if he was overwhelming her or not. 

                    The basin of warmth that emanated from her was a rare span, considering her perpetually vampiric makeup, Holden immediately drawn to her presence as arms wrapped around her in tandem. “A passport?” A chuckle effortlessly left him, before brows knit together as if he’d never quite thought about it much before. “I — don’t really know... I mean, for the last eight years I was considered a felon,” he offered her a light squeeze, the recherche impression that Holden was finally finding it an easy feat to joke about old wounds surprising, to say the least. “As for work, I think it’s safe to say I’ve added up some vacation days.” A soft smile flourished on flaxen mien, verdant hues peering down at her russet’s, raising a brow in a mockingly incredulous manner, “Where are we off to?”  

                    Holden paused, a near vexed laugh stumbling from his lips as if awaiting for a gauche punchline that never came. “Surely it’s — much more complicated than just being able to die all of a sudden.” 

                    “No, it’s — I know it sounds ridiculous and — and probably like I’m screwing with you, but...” Holden shook his head, figuring there was no rhyme or reason to be so vague about it, gnawing on his lower lip in tandem, “Like vampires, fucking werewolves... things like that. I know it sounds crazy, but James and I — and even his sister — this is what we did. They showed me everything about shit like this when I was just a kid myself. Their family... they came from a line of hunters, going back generations and generations and —” Holden stopped himself short on such rampant extempore, hues searching her face for any trace of scorn or resent; the words feeling like repugnant ichor on his tongue. “I’m sorry, Harper, I’m really fucking sorry.”

                    “Yeah, but I’d also think puke green or a bright orange would look fine on you or any other girl so,” a laugh bubbled over, clearly teasing, “Don’t trust me on any fashion matters, whether I know you well enough or not.” Brow rose as if shooting her a reprimanding look in hopes she would think twice, “Would you even wear ‘em more than once?”

                    “Yeah, well, they should cut you of all people some slack; since you’re always over here killing yourself to save lives and all.” His own nights were once afflicted with a myriad of night terrors to keep him up for near hours to days, Holden no stranger to sleepless evenings — because of this, he was miserably familiar with the execrable effects that could ensue when one relied on caffeine and a lack of sleep to stay kicking. A grin flourished on flaxen mien, sitting up straight as if looking around for an imaginary menu of some sorts, “Well, hey, I know you’re still supposed to be pretty boring when it comes to meals and the like, but why don’t you make a list and I can gather up some stuff for you to pig out on when you’re better and all cleared?”

                    Harper was the final tether to a life he was forced to leave behind, a life he took from her and James as a whole; the care for Harper tacitly recognized in each passing day. To see her in a hospital could only send him to a near vertiginous state — the reminder of how far they had come from that fated day only looming once more, akin to a vice grip. This time, however, Harper was the one stuck up in some hospital bed; the deafening consequence of a life James had vowed to hide from her, even in his death. “I took everything away from you...” he clarified, timbre of his voice resonated in a hushed murmur, despondency flooding every syllable, “What more can I possibly take?” A pitied chuckle bubbled from his lips, shaking his head in miserable tandem before letting out a sigh. It was a day he could dread, a day that he may have even warned James against, many lifetimes ago. To make one known of a world so sinister hardly proved to be a gratifying expense, gnawing on his bottom lip as if unable to piece together a means to begin such extempore, sitting up to clutch her hand between his two. “You remember... all those trips me and James used to take? When we’d go Upstate or to Long Island?” Holden paused as if in wait for that sliver of recognition before continuing, each sharp inhale he took a means to prepare himself for when shit could inevitably hit the fan. In the end, he wasn’t sure what would be worse; for her to explode or for her to cling to a sense of numb retort, verdant hues spanning up to capture her own russet’s, the means to show just how serious he could be. “Well, we were... hunting things. Creatures — but definitely not animals.” Less you could count a werewolf, but he couldn’t bear to make that clarification quite yet.