#aecey

{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?"

It had been getting easier.

Day by day, drink by drink, things were progressively getting better for Lacey, which meant they were getting better for Aedan. Christ, he'd been terrified that she wouldn't be able to recover from the harsh blows life had thrown at her. But, miraculously, she was. Throughout the course of a week she had learned that she did indeed need to drink, which was a blessing for Aedan. He was terrified that she would be one of those vampires that didn't want to drink blood at all and just let themselves starve to death. He had met a few of them in his lifetime, and had always tried his best to convince them that they weren't evil, that they could do good and survive at the same time. It was a hard task, and not one that he had always accomplished, but thank whatever blessed him that he had with Lacey.  He had to admit that Evelyne had helped greatly, what with her way with words and women alike, but he liked to owe most of the credit to himself. It made him feel better, like he was worth something so long as he could keep the love of his eternity alive. He still didn't know if she really considered herself alive or not, but he did, and in time he would show her just how beautiful and alive she was.

[ 6:00 P.M

Aedan Durer's Residence ]

~

Aedan rose from his bedding quarters at six, glancing at the clock every few minutes. He was anxious, as well as a bit...well, worried, to say the least. This not-so-little trip to Romania could make or break everything for the vampire's rocky relationship with the stubborn pet that he had claimed just months ago. Four months at Sanguine had, in general, passed by very quickly. But when he thought about his times with Lacey here, it all seemed so much slower, almost as though there were an extra few months added to every one. Everything was starting to irk him lately, to push him over the edge, as demonstrated  by Lacey's bothering him and setting him off. Not much could push him over the edge - he'd had years of practice in keeping himself and his emotions in check - but Lacey got to him, got under his pale skin, and it bothered him to no end. His acting out hadn't exactly been in his favor, but sometimes...people snapped. Aedan was surprised he hadn't gone any further than that. He felt weary as he walked over to his little mini fridge, the one perched on his favorite cherry wood desk. It sad alongside plenty of lamps, as well as his stash of cherry lollipops. He reached into the fridge and grabbed a blood bag, warming it between his palms for a few minutes before sucking it slowly as to fill himself with a bit more energy. He knew that he was going to need it if he was going to be somewhere with Lacey for that long.

Speaking of the girl...Aedan dropped the bag into the trash and made his way out of his room. Walking across the hall and down a bit, he rapped on her door a few times. "We're leaving in half an hour. Be outside in no less than such time," he said calmly, but authoritatively, before turning back and making his way to his room. He entered, shut the door, and let out a low sigh. They hadn't even left yet and he was already regretting this. So many things were wearing down on the vampire right now, that he felt like an energy drink would probably help him more than pints upon pints on blood. Despite that, he grabbed another bag. Anything would be better than sitting and worrying himself. He wondered idly, as the crimson liquid sloshed against the back of his throat - yet doing little to sate him - if Lacey was now further assured that he was just a monster. Nothing more, nothing less, than a fanger with a bad attitude that he tried to hide. Truly, the Aedan Durer that was showcased when Lacey wronged him wasn't the real vampire. It was simply the more angry facet of him, a side that came out when he was truly hurt, wronged, or humiliated - in this case, he was all three. He'd simply been trying to comfort the girl, who had sobbed in his arms like her life depended upon it. He'd given her his protection since the day he claimed her, but he'd been offering her more - his friendship, if she'd accept it. Predictably, she did not - she'd actually been as rude as possible.

With all of that considered, it would truly seem like Lacey was in the wrong here. Even though she'd obviously been emotionally volatile at the moment, Aedan had done nothing but try to help her. One could understand why he would be bothered by this...but he had been more than that, more than annoyed or angered. He had truly snapped, feeling wronged and humiliated - two things that, when put together, set the old vampire off. If Aedan had truly wanted to, he could have controlled himself much better than he had - which was basically not at all - but, in his mind, why should he respect someone who did not respect him back? It didn't make much sense. In his entire life, Aedan had only manhandled women when they asked for it in the bedroom, or back in Romania, when he had treated slaves far too roughly. And now, he was going back. Grimacing slightly, he grabbed his bags and brought them out into his newly done up car, the black dodge viper with a single red stripe. There wasn't much storage space, but his bags would go in the back while Lacey's would go in the trunk. Hopefully she wasn't packing too much, because he'd have no qualms about tossing it out. Well, actually, he did. But he had to pretend not to.

He had many different tactics to approaching Lacey, to try and make her understand that he wasn't as bad as she tried to pretend that he was. He had been extremely nice to her, he had been extremely flirty towards her. He had done these things mildly as well, and then not at all. He had then switched to being more cold, which had made her miss him - or so he thought - but it hadn't done much. He was at a loss. But maybe, just maybe, things would be better this time around, because this tactic would work.

Aedan was a fan of both noise and silence, depending upon the time. One couldn't possibly enjoy one without having heard the other, and so the vampire had developed an appreciation for both. When he was writing, he favored silence amply. Sometimes he listened to soft, calming tunes, but not regularly. Too much noise caused a distraction for him, even though he was able to filter it out if he truly wanted to. When he did listen to music as he wrote, he made sure any other noises were entirely blocked out. He had to have his concentration as high as it could possibly be, unless he was just doing a simple drabbling or expanding on a musing. But noise, real noise, like constant rock music and the sound of footsteps dancing along wooden stairs hadn't been heard by the man's ears in too long of a time. For a while, the Durer mansion had been completely and utterly silent. The only noise that ever really entered was the sound of Magdalene cooking down stairs, Aedan and the prior female interacting, and music drifting around the house. Most of the music stemmed from his room, at times when he was thinking or playing his guitar. He'd been playing his instruments so much more often lately, which he loved, but the sound didn't make the atmosphere any better. It seemed more like a hotel than a home, which left a bitter taste in the vampire's mouth.

All of the residents in the Durer mansion seemed so separate from each other, it was almost scary.  Well, not really all of them. Aedan had found a friend in Magdalene, and the two of them interacted regularly. He had all sorts of things planned to make her feel more comfortable in his presence, which should be around her often, but still held a fear inside of him. He often fretted over her too much, mostly in his head, but he still did. He was also worried that she'd find the atmosphere between Lacey and Aedan to be too hostile, as any sane person viewing them from the outside would. If she did, well...then she was pretty damn right. It'd be hitting the nail right on the head to say that the two weren't nearly friends. The relationship between them had been strained since 1 day, conversation 1. Aedan had found her to be beyond hypocritical in more ways than one, and she just disliked him. She was irritable, and his patience often wore thin. Perhaps fault lied in both of them...Aedan knew that, though it was sometimes a bit difficult to admit to himself. To this day, she still didn't know exactly why he had claimed her. His reasons were genuine enough, but explaining them would be hard. He'd tried, she'd just never believed him.

Aedan was conflicted.

More than that, he was confused. Being over six centuries old, and having plenty of life experience under his belt, Aedan had developed a certain aura of knowing around and about him. For starters, he usually donned a mask of cool composure. His expression was often blank when faced with a mass of choices or paths to take; that is, until he'd made a final decision. And that usual didn't take him very long. The experience he'd gained had taught him what was important and what was not; what was simple and what was complex; what was worth slaving over and what should be discarded. When paired with his mask and his usual aura, some people would classify Aedan as confident, which he usual was. Not quite cocky, though he did sometimes - a bit regrettably and mostly unknowingly - give off that general demeanor. Other than confident, he'd been called a know it all once or twice. That was entirely unlike the compliment of being told one was intelligent; no, that was entirely different than being considered a smart human being. Know-it-alls, himself occasionally included, tended to portray themselves in a different light than the one they actually basked in. Right now, Aedan would gladly be considered a know it all if that meant he had knowledge of what he would do in these circumstances. But the truth of the matter was that he didn't.

He wanted to take Blossom's advice and do something for Lacey - but at the same time, he was bitter in all regards to her. She seemed to be under some sort of spell by the bastard who'd bitten - and apparently fucked - her while he'd been away. This also contributed to his growing conflicts within him - now that he was back, he wanted to make sure that he put his foot down. Yet he seemed to be unable to do that without stomping it too hard. Or, if he were to place down the foot too lightly, Lacey would walk all over him and take too much control of the situation. They weren't equals - at least not physically - but Aedan tried to treat her as such. Remembering his daughter's words to him about all Lacey had been through lately, he sighed and grabbed a piece of parchment, scrawling down a note for her to dress nicely, not too extravagantly, and be ready by 5 p.m. He'd even added a please, and signed it sincerely. He slipped it underneath her door, rapped on it, and then mad a dash for his car. He left to purchase a credit card. He didn't need it at all, but he also knew that - if Lacey were to agree to his plans - she most likely wouldn't want to go to him for money.

Aedan Durer had never been good at apologies, mainly because he wasn't one to usually accept when he was wrong. At the same time, however, he also wasn't the type to justify things with the age old excuse of, "they did it first." So even though it was widely known and obviously accepted - in his mind, anyway - that Lacey was the initial wrongdoer here, he knew he had fueled the growing fire by betraying her trust. Of course, he hadn't done it maliciously - no, not a single bit of ill intent was there when he'd confided in their mutual friend - but it had still happened, and she'd still taken it the wrong way. He didn't want her to hate him...that was the exact opposite of his goal, which had been from day 1 to get her to appreciate him. He wasn't quite sure if she knew the real reason for why he'd claimed her - besides the fact that he enjoyed a challenge - but if he ever did tell her, he knew she'd brush off his answer as a total lie. Or, most likely, she'd mockingly call him noble, though he never claimed to be. He knew why she was on the offense here, having had her freedom stolen away from her in the blink of an eye. Truth be told, if he were in her place, he'd be the same way. Probably worse, if one could imagine.

The last time he left the Society was merely a day ago, when he'd gone to the beach. That night was still lingering his mind, leaving a slow smile on his face that didn't ebb as he dressed, and even as he left the mansion once more. Lacey had been asleep by the time he'd gone, which was good for him. He'd wanted this to be a bit of a surprise. He'd shot a quick text to Mel as he called a cab and made his way into the city, asking her what kind of Starbucks beverage Lacey would enjoy. He remembered her saying something about missing the place, and decided that would be the best way to break the ice between them. He'd hoped he cracked it when he helped with the gash in her arm, but now it was time to entirely smash the awkwardness to smithereens. He stubbornly held a strong hope in his heart that this would be the beginning of something better, the start of a brighter situation than the one they were in now. Once arriving at a little plaza, he tipped the driver and made his way into the little coffee shop. He was aware of the looks he got as he entered, mostly by jealous boyfriends whose girlfriends' stares lingered far too long. Everyone there was dressed simply, in slacks and sweats, and there he was - button down shirt and black pea coat. His usual attire, really nothing special...but why should he change himself just because the world was going to shit? He arrived quickly and made his order. A green tea frap for himself, and he'd gone with two options for Lacey, both of which he deemed too complicated; a Caramel Machiato with whipped cream, and a drizzling of Caramel on top. He also ordered a small, Iced Skinny Mocha, just in case she didn't like the prior choice.

He arrived back to his house quickly, but founding himself walking as slowly as he could with the drink carrier held tightly in his grip. He wondered what her reaction would be and, while there were a number of ways the unpredictable lass could react, he hoped it would at least be a good one. Upon arriving, he walked right in, locking the door behind him and glanced around. And then his heart stopped. "What..." he gaped at the sight before him - couches flipped upside down, rugs tossed about and the curtains flipped crazily around. "Lacey!" he shouted, fear fueling his voice to an almost intolerable volume for any human to hear. He worried that someone had broken in, done something horrible - who would be able to get past his high security, and the security of Sanguine, he didn't know. But if someone had, then Lacey was an obvious target, seeing as he was nearly positive she hadn't left the house that day. He ran upstairs like a bullet - at this speed, he wouldn't be so much as a blur to any human. They'd merely feel a wisp of wind curl around their features as he passed,  see a slight flicker in the air around them, if they were observant. He ran past his bedroom and stopped short, just staring at what was ahead. Drawers were turned upside down and his bed was literally flipped. Thankfully, he could tell from a glance and a sniff inside that his safe hadn't been found...however, his room was still badly torn up. Like a rampant tornado hit it...a tornado only a vampire could cause. But he didn't care about that now - he could easily compel a maid to clean the house up in five minutes flat. Have to find Lacey.