"Tristan's POV"
The walk from the diner to Aurora's apartment took twelve minutes.
I counted every second. Not because I was eager for it to end, but because I wanted to remember it.
The way streetlights caught the brown in her hazel eyes.
The sound of her laugh when she told a story about a customer who'd tried to tip her with a live chicken.
The comfortable silence that settled between us, like we'd known each other for years instead of weeks.
She lived in a modest building on the east side, the kind with chipped paint and a flickering hallway light that probably hadn't been fixed in months.
We stopped at the entrance, and she turned to face me, hands tucked into her jacket pockets.
"Thanks for walking me home," she said. You didn't have to.
I wanted to. Her smile was soft in the dim light. I had fun tonight. The pancakes were as good as promised, but the company was better.
I should have said something charming. Should have known how to do this after a thousand years of existence. Instead, I just stood there, hyper-aware of everything about her.
The rhythm of her heartbeat, steady and strong. The warmth radiating from her skin. The way her breath created small clouds in the cold air.
She was so alive. Fragile in the way all humans were, temporary and breakable.
One wrong move and I could hurt her. One moment of lost control and she'd be gone.
The hunger stirred, responding to her proximity and the blood moving through her veins.
I took a step back. Are you okay? she asked. I'm fine just cold.
You're wearing a jacket, and you barely seemed to notice the temperature all night.
She tilted her head, studying me. You do that a lot, you know.
Pull away right when things feel close. I don't mean to. I know.
That's what makes it sad. She moved closer, closing the distance I'd created.
Whatever hurt you, Tristan, I'm not that. I'm not going anywhere. You don't know that. Actually, I do.
I'm pretty stubborn when I want to be. Despite everything, I smiled. I'm noticing that. Good.
She pulled her keys from her pocket. So when can I see you again?This was it.
The moment I should have ended this before it went any further.
Before she became another name on the list of people I'd failed to protect.
Before I repeated the same pattern that had defined my existence for a thousand years.
"I don't know if that's a good idea," I said.
Why not?
Because everyone I care about gets hurt. She was quiet for a moment, then said, That's a pretty big assumption.
That you'll care about me. I already do. The words came out before I could stop them.
That's the problem. How is that a problem?Because caring about people makes them targets.
Makes them vulnerable. I've lived a long time, Aurora, and I've learned that the safest thing I can do for anyone is stay away.
That sounds lonely. It is. She reached out and took my hand. Her skin was warm against mine, her pulse visible at her wrist.
Then maybe it's time to try something different. Maybe this time will be different. That's what I thought before.
It never is. You know what I think? She squeezed my hand gently.
I think you're more scared of being happy than you are of being hurt.
Because if you're happy, you have something to lose.
And losing something you never had doesn't hurt as much.
The observation cut deeper than it should have. When did you get so wise? I'm a bartender.
We're basically unlicensed therapists. She smiled. Look, I'm not asking for forever, Tristan.
I'm just asking for another pancake date. Maybe some actual food for you this time since you keep pretending you're not hungry.
I'm really not. Liar. But I'll let it slide. She pulled out her phone.
Give me your number, and we can figure out when you're free.
I should have said no. Should have walked away and never looked back.
But I found myself reciting my number while she typed it into her phone. There. She sent a text, and my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Now you have mine too. No excuses for ghosting. I wouldn't ghost you. Good. Because I'm annoyingly persistent when I like someone.
She moved toward her door, then paused. Hey, Tristan? Yeah? Whatever you think you are, whatever you're afraid of becoming, I see the person who helped me with a drunk customer.
Who walked me home. Who listens when I talk like my words actually matter? She met my eyes.
That's the person I want to know better. Not the one you're scared of being.
She disappeared into her building before I could respond, leaving me standing on the empty street with her words echoing in my head.
I should have left then. I should have gone back to my apartment, packed my things, and moved to another city like I'd done a hundred times before.
Distance was safety. Isolation was protection. Instead, I stood there for ten minutes, staring at her building and counting the floors until I saw a light turn on.
Fourth floor, second window from the left. I committed it to memory without meaning to.
My phone buzzed with a text. "Made it inside safely.
Thanks again for tonight. Sleep well.
I typed and deleted three different responses before settling on something simple.
You too. Another buzz. "So, next week? Same time?"
This was the moment. Last chance to end this cleanly before anyone gets hurt.
Before Aurora became another casualty of my cursed existence.
Before I broke the vow I'd made three hundred years ago to never let anyone close again.
My fingers moved across the screen."Next week sounds good."I sent it before I could reconsider.
Her response came immediately. "Perfect. It's a date then. A date.
The word felt foreign and terrifying and somehow right all at once.
I walked back toward my apartment, hands shoved in my pockets, mind racing with every reason this was a terrible idea.
Aurora deserved someone normal. Someone who could age with her, build a life with her, and give her the things I couldn't.
Someone who wasn't a monster pretending to be human.
But for the first time in three centuries, I wanted to be selfish.
Wanted to reach for something that made me feel alive instead of just existing.
Wanted to believe that maybe Aurora was right, that maybe this time could be different.
Even if every instinct screamed that I was making the same mistake I'd made with Zhilara.
With Elysia's victims. With everyone who'd ever been foolish enough to get close to me.
I'd agreed to see her again. I broke the vow I'd sworn on Zhilara's grave. Opened the door to possibilities I'd locked away for good reason.
And despite the fear twisting in my chest, despite knowing how badly this could end, I couldn't bring myself to regret it. Not yet, anyway.