The Sixth | An Aecey Story
{Inspired by this video.}
Curled up together in the main bedroom, beneath golden sheets and covers, the two were inseparable Gently, Aedan kissed his butterfly's forehead and whispered three sweet words he could never say enough.
"I love you."
She stirred to cuddle closer to him, before sitting upright in bed. "Hey..." she murmured, a yawn escaping her lips. She smiled slightly before a more serious expression was on her features. "How many were there before me?"
"What do you mean?" Aedan asked, sitting up as well so he was face to face with her, their knees touching beneath the sheets in a simple, yet intimate way.
She bit her lip and tried to sort out her thoughts. "Like..." she sighed and pushed a hand through her hair. "How many girls did you love before me?" Her green eyes closed for a moment before opening, vivid and bright, to stare at the man before her.
"Love?" He averted his gaze, a smile touching his features. "Five. I loved five women before you."
She didn't look too pleased to hear that. She just nodded and looked away, pulling her knees closer to her chest as she tried to accept the news. "What were there names?" she muttered, those eyes flashing with a hint of jealousy.
"Who, What, Where, When, and Why," he replied almost instantly.
The jealous was gone from her expression now, replaced with a hint of intrigue. "Can you tell me about them?"
He nodded and took her hand, gently tracing the lines of her palm. He took a breath and began. "Who I loved was someone I met at Sanguine, the woman you knew as Jacqueline Meadows. The first time we met, we hit it off instantly. Both of us had this... this blackness inside of our hearts at the time, it was hard to ignore. We were nerve certain, despite making promises to be together forever and a day. There was something too insubstantial about it all, but something that drew me in. I thought I was in love not an hour after we met, and I did everything I could to impress her, even when she went around flirting with other men before my eyes. I fantasized over this girl I barely knew, and so did every other male around. She became someone in my head that she wasn't in real life, and I couldn't accept that she had the imperfections she swore she did. She went darker as the days went by, and I still clung to the light she had sworn she'd show me. I became clingy, obsessed... and though our fling was short, and she's gone now, I swear... the feelings were there, and they were strong.
What I loved was an old friend. But... it was never that simple. Is it ever? We were the closest of friends from the moment we met until, well, until even now. Evelyne. We tried making it work, but we were never right for each other. Either she was taken, I was taken, or we felt too scared to break the bond of friendship we had. There was something blocking us from being together every time one of us wanted to try for it. Inside jokes and laughter, telling secrets and relying on the other... we became more like siblings than possible lovers as the many years progressed. We were together all of the time, there for each other through everything, and when we finally got the chance to be together... we decided it would be fruitless. It was an admittedly awkward attempt, but it ended the same way the friendship had started - in a heart to heart, in laughter, and in acknowledgment that we would never leave the other. The personality, her humor, her great taste - all of it was there. We thought we could be perfect, but the timing never was. Eventually, we came to accept that.
When I loved was my first real relationship. I wasn't a good guy in my past, I'll admit that. I was a promiscuous flirt and a liar, and this one girl from my home town - Brogan, that is - kept me grounded for the short time we were together. She was the girl that made me want to stay faithful, the girl that radiated naive innocence and a glow of perpetual sweetness. I loved her early on my life. For me, she embodied love, youth... the innocence i could not give her. I have loved many, but that feeling is one I could never recreate. I left her, left for Romania, and we had became this nostalgic love. A remembrance of the adventures we had, and the way she made me feel like I could love despite being broken. That love, that time period, is suspended in a place no one can ever touch. We were so young, but there's not a doubt in my mind that... we were in love.
Where I loved was a girl I met in America, during the times when black people were kept as slaves... and she was one of them. When I traveled there, I hadn't intended to stay. But I met her, I purchased her, and I took care of her. I was only visiting, really - but she changed that. Soon, I found that I just couldn't leave the land. I couldn't leave her. And despite knowing my father would kill me for it, I didn't care it. I stayed for two years, only venturing back to Romania once every month or so. It hurt each time. Perhaps it was me trying to prove to my father that I could love despite being his child of hate, that I could give something to someone else, but she helped me mature, helped me experience new relationships. She helped me prove that all and then some. When she died from an awful illness, I mourned her... but I praised our love. When people ask me what land I love the most, I say America - the land I loved the most.
Why I loved was a ginger-haired girl, also from Sanguine, that I thought would change my life. I had this odd notion that she would make me change my ways, or at least help me along with the process. She once told me that the saddest thing about being locked up in the pet house wasn't a lack of freedom... but the fact that she had felt like she'd never really fallen in love, and never would. She wouldn't get to feel those emotions, the good and the bad. But I loved her ,and I wanted to make her feel those things. I wanted her to ignite my bones, to somehow turn me human again so I could love her more fully. I loved her to be the person I never could, and to be the person that I thought she needed. When she left Sanguine, her laughter, and her zest for life struck me the hardest. She taught me that one of the greatest gifts of life is the ability to give, receive or lose love. She made me want to strive for love in my life. She made me understand."
A pause.
"I understand now," she whispered, her gaze flickering to meet his before she looked down again. He gently picked her chin up and kissed her nose.
"You are the sixth."
"The... the sixth?" She looked at him thoughtfully. "I don't understand - which one am I?"
"You're none of them."
Another long, drawn out pause. She poked him lightly, prompting him to continue. He smiled at her and continued, "because you are all of them.
"You are who I love. My dream girl, the fantasy I now get to live. The girl on the pedestal, the make-believe wants that became true. The girl that never left me, the girl that really did show me light in times of darkness. You are what I love. The depth, the inside jokes, the friendship we have that accompanies our love. The fact that our timing has seemed so incredibly perfect. You're my best friend, my secret-keeper... You are when I love. A new beginning is being started - the two us, right here and now. We are the young lovers that our older selves will look back on someday. Our bodies won't age, but our minds will, and we'll recall how simple it all seemed... how pure our love has been. You are where I love, because I would take you anywhere you wanted to go and, most importantly, because I would go anywhere to be with you. I would travel the ends of the world to keep you safe and happy. You are why I love, because you made me see what I was always looking for. Now that I have found you, you made me realize the lessons I've been taught are more important than I ever could have realized. You've given my past, my present, and my future a new meaning. You make me a better me, and I can give you everything you deserve."
By now, tears were trekking down both of their cheeks, and a feeling of complete and utter, nearly indescribable love settled in the room.
"You are the sixth.
You are the last."
He leaned forward and kissed her tears away before his lips rested on hers, and he rolled over in their bed to keep her close, to keep her safe... to keep her his. She laughed and clung to him, pressing him tightly against her body for a moment before pulling back to look at him.
"So..." he began. "How many were there before me?" He wasn't so sure he wanted to hear this, but he could listen to her talk for days.
"Five," she replied, nuzzling against him.
"What were their names?"
She punctuated each word with a kiss and ruffled his hair. "Who. What. When. Where. Why."











