SEBASTIAN

Silas didn't come to school the next day, so I decided to take the initiative and bring his homework to his house. I pressed the doorbell at the front gate, waiting for someone to answer.

I expected Silas to greet me, but instead, it was Shira.

She appeared in a relaxed outfit, her hair tied up in a messy bun, and a coffee mug in hand. As she opened the gate for me, she raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here again? I should start limiting your visits to three times a week at this point," she said with a smirk.

I let out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of my head.

Following her inside, I couldn't help but notice how quiet the house was—too quiet. Silas was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's… uh, Silas?" I asked hesitantly, breaking the silence. Shira had settled onto the couch, sipping her coffee as she turned her attention back to the show playing on the TV.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "He's back at the academy, talking to his mother. Because of you," she said bluntly, pointing at me.

I blinked, taken aback. "Oh," I replied lamely, my voice barely above a whisper.

Shira set her coffee mug down and fixed me with a sharp look. "Why are you here?" she asked again, her tone sharper this time.

"I—uh, I brought his homework," I stammered, holding up the stack of papers.

But Shira didn't seem satisfied with my answer. Her gaze narrowed. "Let me ask again: what are you really doing here?"

I froze, confused. I must have looked like a deer caught in headlights because she let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. "Don't give me that look. Do you think I haven't noticed the way you look at Silas?"

My stomach dropped. Surely… surely she didn't mean that thing, right? I always made sure to act as nonchalant as possible, especially in front of Silas. I wasn't ready to admit that my eyes always lingered on him a little too long.

"What—uh, what are you talking about?" I chuckled awkwardly, trying to deflect.

Shira scoffed, shaking her head. "Teens and their romances. I'll never understand the lot of you. You like Silas, don't you?"

I let out a strangled noise from the back of my throat, something between a gasp and a dying cat. "What?" My voice cracked, rising slightly before I forced it down. "No—I mean… sorry," I mumbled, wilting under her stare.

"Sebastian," she began, her voice firm, "I'm going to give you some advice."

Advice? I perked up slightly at that. Was she… okay with this? I had expected scorn, maybe even disgust. But advice? That wasn't what I had anticipated.

"Listen carefully. I'll only say this once," she continued, tapping the rim of her mug. "Don't even try."

The words hit me like a slap. I blinked, stunned. The silence between us stretched so long it almost became unbearable.

"Sorry, what?" I stammered, gripping the book in my hands so tightly my knuckles turned white. "I don't think I understand what you mean."

Shira sighed, setting her mug down with a sharp clink on the coffee table. She crossed her legs and looked at me, her expression unreadable.

"Are you… a homophobe, perhaps?" I blurted out, the words spilling from my mouth before I could think better of it. It was the first thing that came to mind, and I regretted it instantly.

Shira clicked her tongue, clearly irritated. "Hardly. Trust me, mages are very open-minded about relationships, including those between the same gender. That's not the issue here."

"Then what is it?" I shot back, my voice rising slightly.

She leaned forward, her gaze pinning me in place. "The issue is that you're a vampire, and Silas is a light mage. The two of you are not meant to be. And even beyond that, you're a liability to him. You don't even know how to control your abilities as a vampire. Silas is already too hung up on you, and I'm worried he's going to put your life ahead of his own."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she cut me off. "Sebastian, stop this before you hurt yourself. You're not just a burden to him—you're giving him a hard time. He's going against his mother right now, and for what? You. He never defies her, not even when he hates what she puts him through. But now, just to prove a point, he's risking everything."

"I—I didn't ask him to do that!" I snapped, my voice trembling. "He could stop anytime he wants!"

Shira let out a bitter laugh. "You don't get it, do you? He cares for you deeply. That's why he's doing this."

Those words hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened as I tried to process what she was saying. Why? Why was Silas trying so hard? I understood that I was his first close friend, but going against his mother just to prove it?

"Let's say he likes you back," Shira continued, her tone softer but no less cutting. "Could you protect him from the forces that want to hurt him? No, you can't. Because those same forces want to hurt you, too. Admit it—you're only going to put him in danger."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I…" I started, but the words wouldn't come out.

"Stop burdening Silas, Sebastian. And especially with those feelings you have for him. Keep them to yourself. You'll only make this mess worse."

And just like that, the conversation ended.

The ache in my chest was unbearable as I stood up to leave. I set Silas's homework on the coffee table, my movements stiff and mechanical. "Thanks for letting me in," I murmured, my voice hollow.

Shira only scoffed, not bothering to see me out.

I don't usually care what others think of me, but Shira's words… they hurt. They grated on my ears and echoed in my mind. Being a vampire was the only thing that made my once-dull life interesting. And then I met Silas—someone who fascinated me in ways I couldn't explain.

We hadn't even known each other for a year, and yet, somehow, the connection felt so deep.

But now, I wondered—am I putting him on a pedestal? Am I being selfish?

I couldn't stop thinking: what if I had met him as a human?

—

"You look down," Torie says, frowning as she sits cross-legged on the floor. Meanwhile, I'm sprawled on the sofa, staring blankly at some random show on the screen. My face is as plain and unreadable as ever.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask, raising a brow at her. She just grins at me, the kind of grin that knows too much.

"Nothing. Your face might look the same, but I can feel it—you're sad," she replies, tapping my knee.

I let out a sigh. "It's stupid," I mumble, turning onto my side to face the backrest of the couch, effectively shutting her out.

I hear her shift closer, and then I feel her hand on my shoulder.

When I turn back to face her, she's kneeling beside the sofa, her expression softened with worry. "Hey, what's wrong? Want to tell your big sister what's going on?" she asks, offering me a small grin, trying to coax me out of my shell.

I frown but sit up slightly, turning my body toward her.

"What do you do," I begin hesitantly, "when someone tells you not to pursue someone?"

Torie's eyes widen as realization dawns on her. "You—wait. You like someone?!" she practically screams the words, and I hush her in a panic, my face burning with embarrassment.

"Don't shout it!" I hiss, snatching the pillow from under my head and swatting her with it.

She blocks the attack with her arm, laughing. "Are you serious right now, Sebby? You like someone? Who is it? And who the hell told you to stop pursuing them? I'll give them a piece of my mind!" She clenches her fist dramatically, and I can't help but laugh at her antics.

Pushing her hand away, I shake my head. "It's a classmate of mine. His name's Silas Gael. And—his, uh… aunt told me to back off." My voice falters as I wilt, my shoulders slumping.

Torie raises a brow. "Wait, hold on. You already met his aunt? And she knows? I don't even know what to say to that. If it's already a family member telling you not to go for it…" She trails off, crossing her arms, her brow furrowed. "I mean, there's not much you can do then, right?"

"The thing is, I haven't even done anything yet," I admit, my voice tinged with frustration. "I only just realized I liked him—a little bit." I glance away, cringing at the admission.

"Ouch," Torie says with a teasing smirk, though her tone is empathetic.

"So early…" She pats my shoulder. "Maybe just, y'know, find someone else to like?"

I shoot her a look. "That's not helping," I grumble, and she gives me a sheepish smile in return.

"Still," Torie mutters, "that's so heartless of her to tell you that. Is she not an ally?"

"No, she's fine with… those relationships," I reply, hesitating. "She just doesn't like me, I guess." My voice cracks slightly as I slump back against the sofa.

It sounds so simple when I explain it to Torie like that: Shira just doesn't like me. But it's not that simple, is it?

It's because I'm a vampire. A weird version of a demon. Being a vampire means I have no chance with Silas. I can't even let myself hope for something more. And if I did, I'd only be putting him in danger.

I'm too human to be a proper vampire, and I'm too vampiric to ever be fully human.

So what am I?

Am I a vampire pretending to be human, or a human cursed with the hunger of a vampire?

The truth is, I like being a vampire. I like the way it makes my dull, boring life feel a little less ordinary. But now, someone's telling me that being a vampire is wrong. That it might ruin my life.

It's… a shock, I guess.

I don't know much about being a vampire. All I know is that blood is a necessity, something we're supposed to crave. But even that—this so-called vice—is something I've managed to ignore. I don't need it.

Maybe I won't ever be able to act on my feelings for Silas. But somehow, I hope I can still stay by his side. Even if it's just as a friend.