Passion and Confession

The forest beyond the clearing is silent, but inside, my heart pounds like a war drum. The small fire has nearly died, leaving long shadows dancing across the cracked wooden walls. The only sound is Liam's breathing—ragged, uneven and heavy.

He sits on the floor across from me, his dark hair damp and disheveled, his chest rising and falling with effort. His clothes cling to him, damp from sweat and river spray. His eyes never leave mine.

"Aria," he says softly. His voice is rough but gentle. My name feels dangerous on his tongue. "I need to know."

I can't hold his gaze. My hands twist in my lap. Every part of me screams to run, but I stay.

"I'm not what you think I am," I whisper.

Liam's expression doesn't change. He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. His silence tells me he already knows—at least part of it.

"I was turned weeks ago," I continue. "I'm still changing. Still fighting every instinct."

I pause, breathing in shaky gasps. "I'm a vampire."

Liam exhales slowly. But there's no fear. Only quiet understanding.

"I figured," he says.

My throat tightens. "You should be afraid of me."

He tilts his head, offering the smallest smile. "I'm not."

Tears sting my eyes. "I hunger for blood, Liam. And near you, it's worse. Your scent... your warmth... it drives me mad."

His hand moves to mine, fingers brushing my knuckles. The contact sends electricity through me. My body responds too strongly. Hunger roars beneath my skin. I clench my fists, digging nails into my palms.

"I trust you," he says quietly.

I laugh bitterly. "You shouldn't."

His hand cups my chin, tilting my face to his. "Look at me."

I force myself to meet his gaze.

"You won't hurt me," he says simply.

"You don't know that," I breathe.

"I do."

He leans forward until his forehead rests against mine. His breath is warm on my lips.

"You should run," I whisper.

"I'm tired of running."

His lips brush mine—soft, hesitant.

My hunger surges. The scent of his skin, the beat of his heart—it's too much. I taste him in that kiss: salt, heat, life. I want more. I want all of him.

I pull back, gasping, trembling, fangs aching beneath my gums.

"I can't," I whisper, shaking my head.

"You can," he says, his voice calm, steady.

I look at him, terrified of myself. "I want you," I confess, voice breaking. "But I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

His thumb strokes my cheek. "Then don't."

"It's not that easy," I whisper.

"Nothing worth it ever is."

My chest tightens painfully. "I don't know if I can keep fighting it."

He presses his lips to my forehead. "Then let me fight with you."

I close my eyes, trying to breathe.

"I feel like I'm standing on a ledge," I admit. "One step, and I fall. And if I fall, I take you with me."

He smiles gently. "Then I'll fall with you."

I let out a shaky breath. "You're insane."

He grins. "So are you."

I laugh through the tears gathering in my eyes.

We sit there in silence.

"I should leave," I whisper.

"If you leave, I'll follow."

I laugh again, broken and desperate.

I brush my fingertips along his jaw, memorizing the feel of him. "I've never wanted something and feared it this much."

He leans in, kisses me softly.

"I don't care what you are," he murmurs. "You're still you."

"I don't know who I am anymore," I admit.

He kisses me again, deeper this time, and I melt into him. His arms wrap around me, holding me tightly.

I bury my face in his neck. His pulse flutters against my lips. Hunger claws at me, sharp and brutal. My fangs threaten to descend.

I jerk back, breathing hard.

"I need distance," I whisper, shaking.

He lets me go but keeps holding my hand.

"I trust you," he repeats softly.

I rest my forehead against his. "I could kill you."

He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. "Then change me."

I tremble. "You don't understand what you're asking."

"I understand enough."

The fire crackles. The night presses in around us.

"My clan will hunt us both if they find out," I whisper.

"Then let them come," he says.

I let out a broken breath.

I press my lips to his one last time. Slow. Careful. Gentle.

Then I pull back.

"We need to rest," I murmur.

He nods.

We lie down, bodies tangled, breath soft. His head rests on my chest.

"I'm glad it's you," he whispers.

"Why?"

"Because you make me feel alive."

I stroke his hair, fighting the hunger that never fully fades.

And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe I can hold it back.

His breathing evens out, and I feel the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my fingertips. Each beat is a reminder of how fragile he is — and how much I could destroy with a single slip.

"I wish things were different," I whisper into the darkness.

"They are what they are," he murmurs, half-asleep.

I press my lips to his temple, holding back the ache in my chest.

In this moment, he trusts me completely. But tomorrow? Tomorrow the world will come crashing down.

Outside, an owl hoots, the night shifting with unseen movements. Every sound feels amplified. Every breath is a battle against instinct.

I close my eyes, willing myself to be strong.

"I'll protect you," I whisper so softly I'm not sure he hears.

But he does.

"I know," he breathes, and squeezes my hand.

We fall into silence again. But the weight of everything presses on me, heavier than before.

In the morning, I'll have to decide if I can keep him safe by staying close… or by letting him go.

But for tonight, I allow myself this moment.

Just us.

Just this.

Together.

 Is it really worth it going this path? I really can't know for sure, can I?