Shadows Awakened by Endless Yearning
Author's note: Welcome once again!
Finally, I can show you the 3rd chapter of this fic! This one is definitely the chapter I've spent the most time working on.
This chapter is the longest one at the moment, and dialogue predominantes in it. But it begins to clear up some doubts about what happened in the previous one.
Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
꧁ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐨3 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 ꧂
Previous Chapter -> Chapter 2
━━━━━━━━━━━━༺۵༻━━━━━━━━━━━━
The rest of the day slipped by as if nothing had happened. Both Larissa and Zeline went on with their respective duties. When the day finally drew to a close, students and staff alike withdrew to their rooms.
Zeline was already in her room, washing the day off under a hot shower before getting ready for dinner with Larissa. It also gave her friend enough time to freshen up herself before she began to prepare the meal, unhurried.
During the shower, she could not stop her mind from circling back to what had happened hours earlier. Morticia’s arrival, Larissa’s every flinch at her slightest gesture, the sudden unraveling of her thirst because of her. It was clear that if she did not wring the answers she needed out of Larissa, sleep would be a stranger to her that night.
How did they know each other? What kind of relationship do they have—or rather, did they have, since it hardly seemed the two women had seen each other in a long time? She had only managed to glean one thing: to Larissa, that woman had meant something in the past. In one way or another, she had been someone of a certain weight in her life. But was she truly...that important?
Zeline shook her head, an incredulous smile tugging at her lips. This was new—this urge to pry into that bond. She had never found herself in such a position before. Jealousy? She hoped not. She chose instead to stop dwelling on it and simply wait for the overdue conversation with Larissa.
When she finished showering, she stepped out and wrapped her hair and body in towels before leaving the bathroom to choose what to wear. It was, of course, just a quiet, ordinary dinner between friends, like so many they had shared over the years working together at Nevermore. So she had no intention of dressing up. By now, for this kind of evening, with the comfort that existed between them, pajamas were more than enough.
She rummaged through her wardrobe and selected one of her silk pajamas—a buttoned blouse paired with soft, comfortable dark blue trousers. A gift from Larissa.
She laid the pajamas across her bed before slipping back into the bathroom, shedding the towel from her body to begin her ritual of creams. When finished, she unwrapped the towel from her hair, drying it with the dryer before combing it out and letting it fall loose.
She returned to her room and slipped into the chosen pajamas. Her gaze flicked to the wall clock—quarter to nine. They had agreed on around nine. Fifteen minutes remained, but she deemed it wiser to arrive early in case Larissa required aid with the dinner—though Larissa, when hosting, insisted on handling it all herself. She tidied everything into place, pocketed the keyring that unlocked every door in the school, including her own—always carried for contingencies—and departed, locking the door behind her before striding toward Larissa’s office.
When she arrived, she knocked on the door. Measured footsteps approached from within, and it creaked open just enough. There stood Larissa, already at ease in pajamas akin to Zeline’s but in muted beige, her hair unbound—perfect silver waves cascading over her shoulders and back. Her face bore no trace of makeup, and the scent of lavender perfume cloaked the office in quiet allure.
Zeline never tired of reminding herself how fortunate she was to be the only one who could see her like this. Of course, when Larissa dressed elegantly for work, it stole her breath away. But this way? Her natural beauty clouded her senses.
So much that she sometimes felt on the verge of fainting right there before her. So much that Zeline’s heart ran riot each time she saw her like that, never certain if Larissa noticed—though she felt her cheeks flush faintly, desperately seeking some way to hide it.
Zeline startled slightly, yanked from her reverie. But she composed herself swiftly.
"I know. I hope it doesn’t bother you. I finished preparing myself sooner than expected, and thought it was better to arrive early—in case you required aid with the dinner. Though I adore when you cook for me," she added with a sly smile, "you’ve endured a long day. Perhaps with two extra hands, we might finish it quicker."
Larissa propped her left shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, surveying Zeline with a half-shadowed smirk.
"How considerate," she replied. "But I must confess—I, too, finished sooner than anticipated. Dinner awaits."
It was evident. Larissa always contrived to stay one step ahead. Even without foreknowledge of Zeline’s early arrival. That foresight had always struck her as unnervingly impressive.
Zeline couldn’t suppress a faint, wry laugh. "How deluded of me to assume the grand headmistress of Nevermore, the formidable Larissa Weems herself, wouldn’t outpace me. I barely get how you're always one step ahead of everything and everyone."
"The mere suggestion offends, darling."
Darling. God, how that word lingered like a velvet blade.
"Come now, enter. You're not planning to haunt the threshold all night, are you?"
Larissa stepped aside from the doorway, granting Zeline clear passage—which she took at once, allowing Larissa to seal the door behind her with a decisive click. Just in case. Then, Larissa took a moment to look Zeline up and down.
"What sharp eyes I had buying you that pajama," she said, smirking.
Zeline turned around briefly to look at her.
"The model helps too," she said, striking playful poses to show off the pajama from different angles. Larissa couldn't help but laugh at her antics.
They made their way to her quarters, Larissa leading this time as propriety demanded, holding the door ajar for her. Once inside, she sealed it shut.
"Are you hungry yet?" she asked Zeline, a faint smile curling her lips like smoke.
"Well, truthfully, I wasn't hungry before arriving here, but once inside, I cannot deny the aromas wafting from the kitchenette have awakened my hunger. Now it feels as if a beast lurks within my stomach, poised to strike at the first chance," she replied, exaggerating, patting her belly with a little smirk.
Larissa couldn't suppress a laugh at the remark. "Then there's no more to discuss. I wouldn't like to be the prey of that beast of yours."
Don't tell me twice, Zeline thought. Larissa gestured for her to enter the kitchenette first, where dinner awaited them, laid out on the table.
The table stood impeccably set, every minutest detail measured to precision. Zeline stood amazed by the exquisite refinement and evident effort.
A pristine white cloth draped it, blue napkins poised like sentinels, silverware gleaming in exact array—even twin taper candles flickered alight, flanking a modest vase of blue roses—Zeline's favorite color—at the center, beside the covered dishes preserving their warmth.
"Larissa...this is...I mean...wow..." Zeline faltered, words dissolving into silence. She stood frozen, utterly stunned, unable to grasp the exquisite vision before her.
"Like it? Had I known, I would have dressed for the occasion," she managed, a rare laugh escaping her lips.
Larissa let out a laugh as well. "Perhaps I've gone a bit overboard...I know we agreed on a simple, ordinary dinner, but...after today's chaos...I needed to switch things up. To do something different. To thank you for all you did...and for the many times you've pulled me through."
"Riss..." she said, turning to meet her gaze, discerning in those eyes a flicker of sorrow and guilt. "You didn't need to thank me for anything. What I did, I'd do again in a heartbeat to keep you safe. We protect each other, remember? That's what friends do. That's why we're here—for whatever comes. Never forget that."
Larissa smiled at her with aching tenderness. Her friend's words lifted a crushing weight from her chest, though guilt still coiled tight within. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her hand to Zeline's neck—where hours before her fangs had pierced—and brushed aside the hair to reveal the marks, before resting it on her shoulder. There they lingered. Stark evidence of her unraveling savagery, nearly undoing all she'd fought to hold.
Zeline shivered for a moment at the gesture. So delicate and soft, while she held Larissa's gaze without breaking it, those eyes fixed on the wound with a shattered expression.
"Don't worry about this anymore. The mark will fade. Don't torment yourself or dwell on it anymore, please. It's the only thing I ask of you."
Zeline raised her hand to gently clasp Larissa's from her shoulder, while with the other she took her remaining hand—cradling both to stroke them slow and soft with her thumbs—and met her eyes with a sweetness reserved just for her.
"I'm fine. You're fine. We're fine. That's what matters. Let's set this aside for now and savor the moment, alright? Do it for me."
Larissa lingered on her a few seconds too long, pondering her rare fortune in finding such a woman and having her as her closest friend. Maybe to others, she seemed stern, edged with irony—but beneath beat a warm heart. Though she masked her care for people and academy in cool detachment, they were her truest, deepest devotion—the pulse of her existente. Her family. Her hearth. All she held.
Finally, she caressed Zeline's hands in return and nodded. When she started walking to the kitchenette, Zeline covered her neck again, and then followed Larissa, and the two glided to the table, settling into chairs poised across from each other. Larissa uncorked a bottle of wine from her finest reserves—the kind saved for moments like this—filled both glasses, and proceeded to unveil the meal onto their plates.
The dinner unfolded like black silk. The fare was exquisite—each dish a favorite haunt of Zeline's palate. Larissa knew a thousand ways to captivate her, but with food, she held unchallenged dominion. Everything tasted divine.
They talked about the little things that happened during their day— without mentioning the events from Morticia's interview. Anecdotes of students and colleagues they worked with drifted between them. Just two friends chatting and hanging out. A balm that soothed the day's coiled tensions.
When they finished, they cleared the table, and Larissa told Zeline not to trouble herself with the soiled dishes—she'd tend to them later. But Zeline insisted they tackle it together right then, to dispatch the task swiftly and spare Larissa the burden after.
Once the kitchenette was completely in order, they drifted into the small sitting room, where a fireplace—more modest than the one in Larissa’s office—was already crackling; she’d lit it herself before Zeline arrived. Larissa had brought along the half-finished bottle of wine from dinner and grabbed another one—just in case—and Zeline took their glasses. Then, they settled onto the same sofa, shoulder to shoulder. She filled both glasses again, and Zeline took hers without a second thought.
Zeline lifted her glass, meeting her eyes with a soft smile.
"To the chef, who has crafted an exquisite menu."
"And to the guinea pig who isn’t afraid to sample my experiments," she replied, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
A laugh slipped out of Zeline.
"And then you call me the wicked one."
"I suppose I spend too much time with you during the day. It all rubs off," she added between laughs.
They made a toast, their glasses chiming softly, and each took a small sip.
"And beyond your gift in the kitchen, you know how to pick a fine wine."
"Darling, when will you realize I excel at everything I do?"
"I'd have to see you in all sorts of settings...doing all sorts of things," Zeline replied with a teasing edge, lifting one eyebrow with a faint smile.
Larissa returned the smile.
"I won't grant you the satisfaction of proving it. You'll uncover it in time."
Silence settled between them for a moment, their gazes locked—until laughter erupted from both, sudden as a storm.
"Alright, alright, have it your way," Zeline conceded amid giggles.
When the laughter ebbed, another silence bloomed. One of those easy, velvet pauses forged by years, where two souls bask so deeply in each other's presence that even silence speaks volumes.
Though it would soon be Zeline who broke it. She turned to Larissa, this time with concern she’d nursed for hours rising sharp and steady in her gaze.
"How are you holding up?"
Larissa took another sip from her wine, and stared into the glass, lost in thought as her index finger traced its rim.
"If I'm honest...I don't know."
Zeline's concern deepened, blooming more visibly in her eyes.
"What if...we seek a way to unravel what's haunting you?"
"Tell me everything. Tell me who Morticia is. Perhaps we'll unearth a clue to what gripped you today."
Larissa lifted her gaze from the wineglass to meet Zeline's eyes, where that steady blend of assurance and tenderness lingered—somehow always a balm to her unrest.
She paused in thought, silence wrapping around her like a shroud, simply holding the look. The relentless unease she'd carried for hours finally eased, fragile but real, soothed by her presence alone.
"I've never breathed a word of this to a soul. Though truth be told, I never truly had anyone I could trust with it. You'll be the first."
"Nothing you say will escape these walls, Larissa. You know that."
Larissa nodded, a faint smile ghosting her lips.
"Morticia Addams. Or rather...Morticia Frump. We crossed paths right here, many moons ago. Fellow students, same year. Even roomed together. In Ophelia Hall."
"Ophelia Hall...same as Wednesday and Enid, isn't it?"
"We were polar opposites. She’s always dwelled in that dark, serene aura—elegant in its quiet menace, somehow. While I...well, let’s say I was her shadow’s foil."
"The tranquil elegance is part of you too, you know."
"True...I suppose. One of our rare threads in common. We’ve always been worlds apart. So much so that...I came to hate her, in a way."
Zeline blinked, caught off guard. Larissa—harboring hate? She never ceased to astonish.
"Hate? You? I never imagined 'hate' and 'Larissa' could share a sentence," Zeline teased, aiming to lighten the shadows, as she took another sip of wine and fixed her with a crooked smile.
Larissa let out a soft, fleeting chuckle. "Indeed. Though I'm not proud of it. It doesn't reflect who I usually am. But back then..." She paused, a sigh slipping free. "Jealousy had me in its grip."
Zeline's surprise etched deeper into her features. Jealousy too? The tale grew ever more intriguing.
"How could someone as extraordinary as you ever succumb to envy over another soul?"
The words slipped unbidden from her lips—she couldn't help it. By the time she realized, Larissa was watching her with faint astonishment, her own lips frozen midway to the wineglass.
A faint, almost imperceptible pink tinged Zeline's pale cheeks as she fought to steady her nerves, while a soft, tender smile curved Larissa's lips.
"I-I mean... you? A woman who measures every inch with precision, who bends the world to her will. Utterly self-assured. Impeccable in every way—respected, cherished, with a heart vast as the abyss. And, by many accounts, strikingly beautiful. How could you possibly feel jealousy?"
A laugh burst from Larissa. The pink in Zeline's cheeks deepened unmistakably as she stared back, bewildered and faintly irked by her friend's reaction.
"W-What? What did I say that's so hilarious?"
Larissa struggled to contain her laughter. "F-Forgive me, darling. I'm not used to such lavish praise. I didn't mean to unsettle you with your exquisite compliments. Besides, those flushed cheeks are rare to see—but utterly endearing."
"Oh, hush. Should've known better than to speak," Zeline muttered, rolling her eyes for a moment before looking away.
The blue-eyed woman raised her hand to her friend's chin, gently turning her gaze back. Zeline yielded, and upon meeting her eyes, found Larissa beaming with otherworldly tenderness—those luminous eyes, those flushed cheeks—enough to make her soul flicker out for a moment.
"Come now, don't be cross. I meant no mockery. Every word was sincere."
Zeline held her stare a beat longer before exhaling in defeat.
"Very well...," she conceded at last. "But mine were earnest too."
"I cherish them. Yet...the woman I am now isn't the insecure girl who studied here once. Morticia, though—she always had that unshakable poise. And it seems years hadn't dulled it," Larissa said, releasing Zeline's chin to sip her wine.
Zeline couldn't quite wrap her head around how the poised woman before her had once felt so uneasy in her own skin. Yet she held her tongue, unwilling to interrupt further.
"Besides...my 'condition' always lingered like a shadow."
"True enough...I recall you mentioning how those years bore down on you relentlessly because of it."
Larissa fell silent for a moment, her gaze drifting to the fireplace flames, a veil of melancholy and gravity settling over her. Then she nodded.
"Indeed...while I strained to be the flawless pupil in every regard— battling to leash my condition, to evade discovery...Morticia eclipsed all without a whisper of effort. Zero burdens. Everyone loved her. Craved her company. She commanded the spotlight. Her existence was flawless. And I...I couldn't bear witnessing her effortless triumph. I envied her—despised her, even. Though she never once earned such shadows from me."
Zeline listened intently, her eyes tracing every fleeting shift in Larissa's face and form—noting the subtle tension coiling through her as she spoke of her.
"That dark aura, that enigmatic veil... at times, almost eerie. Yet it was her essence. Ever the decent soul. Unflinching before any storm, though—defending her ground without blinking. A few choice words could dismantle even the toughest opponent."
"A woman who earned respect with effortless grace, it seems."
"Indeed. That, she never lacked."
"But did she treat you well?"
"Yes. She never picked on me or anything like that. Truth be told...I'd say I was the one with the issue. I always kept my distance from her. The envy ate at me so much that I took it out on her. Just being near her made me feel like her shadow. And yet...she persistently sought ways to linger near—drawing closer. She wanted real friendship, not the rivalry I was forcing upon us. And oddly, my sarcastic barbs amused her, even when I was just lashing out. She always had a comeback for everything."
"Never pictured that side of you. But I get your own reasons, Rissa..."
Larissa turned back to Zeline, guilt shadowing her face.
"I'm not proud of it. That wasn't...truly me. I was carrying a weight too heavy for a girl that age, and sometimes the pressure crushed me."
"It's understandable...no one should live like that so young. The normal thing would be living freely. Having fun. Hang out with people."
"Yeah...," she sighed. She took the last sip from her wineglass, then refilled it—and Zeline's too. "It was what I craved most. But fate had other plans."
A brief silence fell. Zeline thanked her for the refill with a nod, took a sip, then cradled the glass in one hand while gently taking Larissa's hand in her other hand—stroking it slow and soothing.
"I won't dwell on the details. We'd be up all night otherwise. As for Morticia...she was just being herself, and I still tried to push her away—though it was impossible since we were sharing a room—yet she craved friendship. Or rather, for me to let her in."
Larissa stared at her wineglass, though her mind wandered back through the years.
"One night...something changed."
Zeline watched her closely.
"It was prom night our senior year. Exams were over, graduation loomed. A grand affair unfolded—gowns, music, feasts, dances...an evening that would be etched forever." Larissa smiled faintly. "Morticia arrived arm-in-arm with who was supposed to be her actual husband not too long ago, Gomez Addams. I went alone. Yet she stayed by my side more than his. He'll be fine with his friends. I'd rather your company tonight. After this, paths diverge—we won't cross often. Let me spend the last night here with someone I truly value. Bury the hatchet, just this once. Let's make it count. Savor it. And so I did."
"That's wonderful, Rissa. I'm glad you did," Zeline smiled.
"Yes. I admit...it felt like a breath of fresh air. We had a good time together—talking about everything. Our Nevermore days...even personal matters. We ate until stuffed, danced till our feet ached. Drank too much, laughing at absolutely every single silly thing. There was...a real, pleasant connection. A close one. Closer than either of us expected, I'd say."
Zeline's face clouded with faint confusion. Larissa caught it and pressed on.
"Somehow, in a way I still don't grasp...a kind of flirtation sparked between us. Risqué jokes. Subtle brushes. Giggles. Lingering glances. Until suddenly...she took my hand and pulled me from the dance floor. Led me to the school's tallest tower—you know, the one with the big window, where you can see breathtaking views over Nevermore's grounds. Right there, under the full moon's glow...," she paused briefly, her mind lost in the memory, her gaze distant. She set her wineglass down, and lightly traced her lips with her fingertips. "...she kissed me."
Zeline's eyes widened in shock. Something familiar stirred deep inside. She had felt it before, back in her room, when she was thinking ahout their bond. And one thing was certain. Now it had turned serious, and she didn't like it.
"She...kissed you? Just like that? No warning?"
Larissa gave a faint smile. "Well, all that prior flirtation could count as fair warning, if you squint."
Zeline rubbed the back of her head for a moment. "Fair enough...I guess. But...did you like it?"
A brief flush colored Larissa's cheeks. "Even now, I can't quite answer that. I've asked myself a million times. I felt...something. It didn't repulse me. Quite the opposite—I kissed her back. We lingered there, locked in it...but was it the wine? That's left me forever tangled in doubt."
The words slipped from Zeline's lips unbidden—a thought rising from deep inside. She worried it might upset Larissa or cross a line. But her friend's face stayed calm, unbothered.
"No. Suddenly we heard Gomez's voice echoing in the distance, calling for Morticia. We broke apart before he found us. She left with him, flashing that tender smile of hers, saying she'd had a great time with me. I returned to our room, readied for bed, and collapsed the moment my body hit the mattress. Didn't stir when she slipped in late, nor notice her tucking the sheet over me. By morning, she'd already left Nevermore."
"Did she leave without a word?"
"She left a note. Thanked me not just for the unforgettable night, but for all the moments we'd shared over the years—despite me making it so hard. Said she'd never forget me. I'll never understand how she grew so fond when all I did was push her away. No mention of the kiss. I figured she regretted it—a mere slip from too much alcohol."
“I see...and you never spoke again after that night?”
Larissa shook her head. “The last time we saw each other was on her wedding day. I received her invitation and went to the ceremony. I congratulated them both, then excused myself for not staying for the reception.”
“You didn’t want to stay?”
Larissa hesitated before answering. She honestly didn’t know what to say. It was one more thing she’d spent years asking herself. She considered making up some excuse and moving on. But she couldn’t do that to Zeline. After all, she was the person she trusted most. She had never failed her, and she couldn’t start now.
“Honestly...I wish I knew. But...I don’t. I just remember walking in and seeing her years later, dressed like that...so...so...”
“...Yes. I haven’t been to many weddings, and even fewer where black was everywhere, but...I have to admit, she was the most beautiful bride I’d ever seen.”
Zeline felt a knot form in her stomach as she listened to Larissa speak about Morticia. And the more she heard, the worse it got. But she couldn’t let herself be swept up in it. Larissa was trusting her with something private and important, and she wasn’t going to fail her now.
“Let me help you, Rissa. Something tells me you felt something for her.”
Larissa froze. She looked at Zeline in disbelief.
“W-What are you saying?!”
“No one talks about an old friend the way you talk about Morticia, darling. There was something else happening there, even if your mind refuses to admit it. Or rather...” she said, lifting a hand to point at Larissa’s chest, where her heart was. “That little rogue of a heart of yours.”
The blonde glanced where Zeline's finger pointed, then fell pensive once more. She shook her head and met her friend's gaze again, serious.
"Deny it all you like. But remember, the truth lingers. You called it hate. But hate, is a feeling, Larissa. Along with fear, contempt, concern, and...love. And from what I see, the signs are everywhere. Just recalling how you looked at her the moment she stepped through your office door...that's proof enough."
Larissa's body tensed for a moment, memories flooding back of everything since Morticia first stepped into the room—and her own strange reactions. She couldn't deny her behavior had felt off, even to herself. In her mind, she also relived many moments with her from the past, remembering how she made her feel. But accepting that hypothesis? Not so easily. She chose to let it drop. Absurd notion.
"L-Let's not stray further, please. The point is...we lived completely different...-"
While Larissa spoke, Zeline wrestled with a storm of feelings inside. Larissa's denial of any spark for Morticia clashed with her reactions—both today upon seeing her and now as she recounted it all—tightening that knot in Zeline's stomach. Still, she fought to stay focused on her words. Time alone would soothe it later.
"How can someone feel secure in themselves when they were born with a condition deemed dangerous and utterly forbidden?." With each word, a thread of pain wove through her voice. "How does one live with the constant dread of discovery from the slightest slip, losing control? With the shadow of...death sentence for simply being born that way?"
Zeline's heart shrank in waves, rendering her stomach's knot a faint afterthought. Sadness flickered in her eyes as she gazed at Larissa's face. It wasn't fair that a woman like her had endured so much just for being born that way. It wasn't her fault. She hadn't chosen it. Nor deserved judgment for it. She wasn't dangerous. Quite the opposite—a haven for those in need. At least, for Zeline, she was.
“You’re not dangerous, Larissa.”
“That doesn’t matter. Though I’ve never harmed so much as a fly, to everyone, someone like me isn’t supposed to exist. If they find out, I’m as good as dead.”
“How can you be so sure?”
Zeline looked at her with a grave stare, her eyes steady, gleaming with unshakeable certainty. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll protect you. No matter what it takes.”
At last, Larissa looked at her again, frowning. “And what can you do to stop that?”
Zeline turned her head toward the fireplace, lost in thought for a few seconds. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll find a way. What happened today won’t happen to you again.”
“You can’t know that, Zeline. It’s impossible.”
“You managed it once,” Zeline said, turning her gaze back to her and taking one of Larissa’s hands. “You’ll do it again.”
“I’m a hybrid, Zeline! Controlling it is impossible!” she replied, pulling her hand away sharply. She set her wineglass from her other hand down hard on the table before them.
Zeline fell silent, watching Larissa with surprise. She set her glass down on the table beside hers.
"No single case exists where anyone claimed to tame their unleashed state! I was a fool to think I'd been the first to master my rogue gene," she said, wrapping her arms around herself, growing more restless by the moment.
Her friend said nothing. She simply gave her all the time she needed to vent, to let her fears spill out without pressure.
"My entire life has been utter torment...everything would have been simpler if I'd just been born a shapeshifter...or a vampire. One or the other. Was that too much to ask? A normal life like everyone else's...I didn't choose to be born a hybrid. I didn't choose to be both shapeshifter and vampire...and the worst part is the unleashed gene had to be the vampire one, making me even more dangerous. Although...I don't know if the other way around would've been better...damn it."
Zeline regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, a pressing doubt threading through her mind.
“Tell me something, dear. When you studied here and had to keep your vampire gene in check, how did you manage it?”
“Back then, I lacked that much self-control, so I needed outside help. My parents tracked down an ancient amulet—a pendant—that could...‘lull’ my vampire side. I had to wear it always, of course. Without it...well, you know.”
“I understand...but then, until we find a permanent solution, you could use that amulet, couldn’t you? Do you have it here?”
Larissa swallowed and looked away, her face showing a guilty expression. Zeline caught it at once.
“Because...you still have it, don’t you?”
Larissa hesitated, unsure whether to answer or stay silent, but in the end, she shook her head.
“W-What did you expect me to do?! That amulet may have protected me, but...to me, it was a symbol of weakness! A reminder that I couldn’t control myself, that I wasn’t strong enough mentally to do it! And...I destroyed it...”
Suddenly, Larissa felt her eyes begin to well up. She quickly turned her head and squeezed them shut, fighting to hold back the tears. But Zeline’s gentle embrace, drawing her close, made it nearly impossible.
“Alright, alright...it’s okay. Don’t hold back with me. Let them out,” she whispered in her ear. “No more repressing. Vent. Free yourself. You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”
And so she did. She let them fall. Her cheeks grew wet, and a soft sob echoed faintly in the room. She kept it quiet—nothing to breach those walls.
Zeline held her, not too tightly. An embrace meant to steady her against the edge of madness. To offer warmth that scattered her fears. Like an emotional shield against all harm. For as long as she needed.
And so they remained for a few minutes. Silent, wordless. Letting Larissa release it all.
When she finally calmed, they parted just enough to meet each other’s gaze. Larissa’s eyes, though the tears had stopped, remained wet and faintly red. Zeline raised her hand, brushing away the last traces with her thumb, then rested it against her cheek—gazing at her with a rare softness, reserved only for her. A tender smile followed. And there, with quiet certainty, she repeated her earlier words.
“You’re not alone. And you won’t be, as long as I’m here.”
Larissa closed her eyes at the touch and warmth of Zeline’s hand. The simple gesture from her friend soothed her. And at last, she felt calm wash over her completely.
“Zel... thank you,” she said, opening her eyes to meet hers. “It's a relief you’re here.”
“Don’t thank me like that.”
Larissa looked at her, confused and surprised in equal measure.
“You’ll have to treat me to dinner at that new fancy restaurant that just opened in Jericho. And I’ll order whatever I please. You’ll blow a month’s salary,” she said, flashing a sly, wicked grin.
Larissa burst into laughter at her friend’s reply. “Please tell me you’re joking. You can’t cost me that much.”
Zeline grew serious for a moment, one eyebrow arched, and Larissa started to worry.
Zeline answered with a laugh. “Just kidding, yes.”
The blonde sighed, relieved, and laughed as well.
“You’ve already thanked me.”
Larissa tilted her head, puzzled. “How?”
Zeline pointed to her mouth, still curved in a smile.
“Your smile. That’s enough for me,” she said, winking.
Larissa’s cheeks flushed suddenly.
“You’re so cheesy sometimes, Zeline. A box full of surprises.”
Zeline rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut it! I’d have stuck with the fancy dinner!”
“No, no, no! I like your cheesy idea more!”
And just like that, they both erupted in laughter, scattering the fear, worry, and doubt from moments before.
After that exchange, they set the heavy topic aside for now. Too many emotions for one day—they shifted to lighter, everyday chatter. Teasing each other, cracking jokes, sipping more wine...they had a great time. Like two teenagers at a sleepover.
When they glanced at the clock, it was nearly one in the morning.
“Wow! Time flies,” Larissa said, her voice already tipping into tipsy slur.
Zeline couldn’t stifle the silly giggle brought on by the alcohol, though she held her liquor better and wasn’t as far gone as Larissa. “True. Maybe I should head to my room for the night. We both need rest. It’s been a long week. We're lucky it's already the weekend” she said, rising from the sofa. But suddenly, before she could step away, a hand caught her wrist, holding her back.
“Zeli, wait...could you stay...a little longer?”
“Is something wrong? Do you need anything?”
“I...need you. Your company...just a bit more,” Larissa said, gazing up from the sofa, head tilted back to look at her, lips in a subtle pout.
Zeline’s heart raced in an instant at those words. I need you. How many times had she dreamed of hearing that from her lips. Her cheeks warmed with a faint blush, and a soft smile rose unbidden.
“Anything you need. I don’t mind.”
She settled back beside her. They talked a while longer, until Larissa’s eyes began drooping more and more. Zeline stifled a laugh at the sight.
“Rissa, darling, how about we move to your bed? You’ll be more comfortable.”
“Well...maybe leaving the sofa would help...for comfort’s sake...”
Zeline first took the wine glasses and the empty wine bottles to the kitchenette. Then she returned to Larissa and helped her up, guiding her to the bed. She eased Larissa down onto it, then drew the beige silk sheet over her, tucking her in snugly.
Larissa’s eyes drifted shut once more. Zeline lay beside her, stroking her hair, her face, with slow tenderness. Like one cherishing, tending, shielding her most precious treasure.
Until at last, Larissa fell asleep.
She slept peacefully, breath slow and deep. She seemed at peace, finally. Or so her face betrayed.
Zeline wanted to stay, just as Larissa had asked. Watching her sleep through the night. Something about her held her spellbound, even in slumber—so ethereal. As if she belonged to another realm. A goddess.
She lingered there for almost two hours, gazing at her. Ensuring she rested deeply, felt safe. Studying her with care, stroking her with featherlight touch to avoid waking her—her soft arm, her delicate face, her platinum hair. Savoring the privilege. Admiring such beauty. Not even Morpheus dared intrude on her moment.
But for Zeline, worries stirred in her thoughts. Worry over finding no solution for Larissa—for her condition—drove her mind away from this peaceful moment. Her body lay beside her, but her mind wandered far beyond those walls.
So, reluctant as she was, even after promising Larissa that she wouldn't leave, she had to act. No delays. She needed to solve it swiftly. Find a way to keep Larissa from losing control again. Settle it fast, for her tranquility. And her own.
So, with utmost care not to wake her, Zeline began to shift. But not before lingering a few seconds more, studying her intently. Her gaze settled on those lips—ones she’d longed to kiss so many times—unaware she was drifting closer, inch by inch, until they hovered mere millimeters apart. There she froze. She dared not close the gap. Her body urged her on, but she held back. Instead of claiming her lips, hers brushed Larissa's forehead—soft, tender. At last, she eased toward the bed’s edge, rose, watching for any flicker of waking eyes. Larissa still slept. Good.
Finally, she made for the door to her office. She cast one last glance at Larissa, sleeping soundly, a faint smile curving her pink lips. Zeline couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her own—her heart warming instantly. God, how she loved that woman. For some time now, her heart hadn’t belonged to Zeline. It belonged to Larissa. And there was no turning back.
“Don’t worry, I won’t be long, my wingless angel,” she whispered to herself.
At last, she opened the door and eased it shut behind her—softly, deliberately. She did the same leaving the office, locking it with the spare keys of the keyring she’d taken from her room earlier.
She paused there a moment, back against the door, drawing deep breaths, lost in thought. Then, she turned in the opposite direction of her room—slipping into the school’s shadowed corridors, bound for the library. Answers might wait there. Or at least, that's what she hoped.
━━━━━━━━━━━━༺۵༻━━━━━━━━━━━━
I will start writing the 4th chapter soon, which also looks promising. But it'll take a while, just saying!
If you want to share your thoughts on the fanfic here, I'd love to read them!
