Stars. I’d gotten used to looking at them with my vampire eyes over the many months since I’d been dead. It amazed me that things so utterly humungous in the universe appeared to be nothing but a pinprick in people’s eyes. Tonight they were splattered across the sky in a haphazard way. But it was beautiful, all the same, nature’s innocent way of making giant masses of gas appear breathtaking from afar. I looked to the ground around me, tearing my eyes away from the sky for a moment, and saw that the rocks and grass were clearly illuminated by the moonlight; the path to the cabin was easy to follow. Not that I needed the aid of the moonlight to find my way home.

I was a creature of darkness, after all.

Wistfully, I glanced back at the light fog that had risen over the lake. I longed to jump into the waters and swim until dawn. They called to me, their voice seductive and tempting, to swim to the other side. To climb into their gentle hands and let them carry me closer to my home. My old home, that is.

I sighed. “One year tomorrow,” I whispered to the darkness, the grass, the moon, the waters.

I turned my back on the alluring lake and quickly made my way up the hill to the cabin. My body moved faster than any human could and I felt not drowsy, but alert with the coming of the dawn. I could see the misty purple sky turning red over the horizon and I knew if I stayed there any longer my body would burn and I would perish. And as much as I hated my somewhat new vampire body, I didn’t want to die just yet.

I reached the cabins within a minute’s time and quickly darted to the door of my own. I stepped inside and closed it quickly behind me, grateful for the garbage bags that were taped over the windows. We hadn’t been there long and the next night were planning on putting up wooden boards. Garbage bags melted.

I turned to find my room empty and was somewhat disappointed until I heard the familiar knock on the door. I opened it and came face to face with the hazel eyes of my best friend.

“Come on, get in,” I said urgently. He only smirked and walked in at his usual unhurried pace.

I slammed the door behind him and locked it, the only security we had against people coming to the site and finding us.

“You’re awfully cautious since you’ve been burned,” Gerard said grinning.

I nodded. “It hurt like hell and I’d rather not experience it again.”

The month before I’d stayed a little too long down near the lake and when I’d come home, the sun had sizzled on my skin, even though it had only risen mere millimeters from behind the trees. It’d taken two weeks to grow back the skin I’d had before hand and to heal the blistered parts. I wasn’t about to go through that ordeal again.

Gerard smiled. “You’d better get into bed then, the bags are getting holes.”

I nodded and made my way over to the coffin on the left. His was beside mine and he climbed inside and I whispered ‘Goodnight’ before yawning and closing the lid. Sleep came over me as soon as the faint light disappeared from my view.

I awoke to find Gerard sitting on the opposite side of the room in the corner. His face was turned from mine and I could barely see his features but from his pose I knew he’d had more nightmares. He was crouched down with his knees brought halfway to his chest and was leaning heavily on the dirty cabin wall.

“Gerard?” I murmured, knowing how he felt. Dreams of my loved ones had plagued me for the past year and a half, and they certainly weren’t pleasant. Vampire dreams were mostly visions, as people would call them. Or memories. I wondered which Gerard had suffered through.

His head jerked up at the mention of his name and I could see that I’d pulled him from deep within a daze. “Hey,” he said smiling weakly. “’Night.”

“’Night… you okay?” I asked, frowning in concern. His face was paler than usual. I tried to remember the last time he’d drank but couldn’t.

“Just feeling a bit weak at the moment,” he said cheerfully. I could tell it was fake and thought about pressing for further information. But Gerard never liked to share his dark moments. And he certainly wouldn’t share this.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” I said, walking over to him and giving him an arm to help him up. “You’re pale.”

“I’m always pale.”

“Paler than usual.”

He took my arm and I half pulled him up. We stood inches away from each other, the chemistry that had been there from the start still apparent in our expressions. Nothing had happened in months, and it seemed like nothing ever would. At first I’d waited for him to make a move, but when he hadn’t I made one on my own. It had left us in an embarrassed and uncomfortable state for weeks after my attempted kiss. He said things were too complicated at the moment. It killed me that he told me that, because I’d risked and lost my entire life for him. He was my complication.

He looked down, breaking our intense gaze. “Alright, let’s get something.”

I nodded and walked from the room without waiting for him. It frustrated me beyond belief what he was doing to me. What about what he said last year? I asked myself repeatedly. Nothing ever built on that. Not a thing.

And nothing ever would.