âThat handsome and feisty?â Amira questioned. âThe vampire might win, but only in changing you. You would be a worthy addition to their undead army.â They saw each other so frequently, it took her a moment to realize they had never had a conversation, a moment, like this before. Just walking, being silly, only the two of them. Even when they were hanging out casually, it was with other people, inhibiting these kinds of random conversations and openness. âPromise me youâll still be my friend even when youâre a vampire?â She asked, raising a pinky into the air.Â
Caelan was nothing like any guy Amira had dated before. At first, in those early stages of her crush, she had been able to use that to explain it away. He was a new friend and a new sort of person and she was curious - but that train of thought had not lasted long. The full weight of her feelings had crashed down on her soon enough and she had struggled beneath them ever since. She might not have been the romantic fool thinking she was already in love - but she couldnât deny the amount of time spent with him on her mind, the amount of time spent wishing she could talk with him, questioning if she would look foolish for texting him for no other reason to see how his day was going.
âIf you have to question whether Iâd fight off a monster for you then I have failed you as a friend already.â She laughed softly. âYouâre not the only one ready to do whatever they have to keep the other safe. Vampires, ghosts⌠throw in a werewolf even. Iâll fight him too, if it stood between you and a good day. Amiraâs got you.â
âI would make a pretty good vampire,â Caelan thought aloud, âwho could let such good genes go to waste?â That part was a joke. For the most part. Caelan was certain he wasnât just delusional, but somewhat attractive. Maybe a little too certain. âPromise.â He wasted no time wrapping his own pinky around hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. âI canât let my head get big and forget who I am, Iâll have to make sure I still hang out with a few mortals. Or, you know, you could join the undead army too. Weâd never die... or get old and wrinkly.â
His grin faltered slightly, as light as the topic was it got him thinking. âA friend,â he repeated, the question is that all I am to you? almost falling from his lips, but he pressed them together and didnât let it pass through. What else would she call him? They had never done anything beyond flirting, usually when one was too buzzed to control what was coming out of their mouths. He had neither stated how he felt nor asked how she did, it didnât change anything, he still had his reasons for the distance; but now he wondered. Was that how she looked at him? Did she genuinely see him as nothing more than a friend? The idea stung, more than it should have.
âYouâd have it handled. A werewolf is basically a big puppy, anyway.â A small attempt to continue the conversation, but he was distracted. Heâd continue to obsess over it until he asked. âWould I still be your friend if I wasnât, you know,â Cae made a vague gesture in the air, âjust generally a horrible person all around?â Sheâd heard more than anyone else, when he was forced to share in therapy. She wouldnât know the extent of his issues, but she knew about his anger, his lack of self control, his graveyard of relationships and the string of broken hearts heâd left behind.