Chapter 12: Solaris

He's making me do a lot of things. It's so plentiful that it forces me out of my head and keeps me physically aware of everything. After he had returned, I had been forced to wake up, clean up and join him in his jet. I saw no problem with it. He made sure he fed me while I half slept all through the journey.

I've come to realize that he quite enjoys it. Feeding me. Especially now.

As I walk out of the changing room in a dress that makes my skin itch and want to puke, I find him sitting on the chair with his legs crossed and his hand stroking his chin as a lazy smile stays on his face. Two of the female shop attendants trail after me as I go meet him, stopping when I do. "I'm tired. Can I go home?"

"You know this is important, Miss Mont. We need to make sure every cloth you possess is marked by my scent so you're no longer a potential target by most of my kind," He says this like it makes perfect sense but it really doesn't. He's getting rid of all my other clothes but I don't like any of these new ones. They're tight and I can't sleep in any of them.

Rising to his feet, he walks to me. I notice the attendants move away as he gets close then stuff his hands into his pockets, letting his eyes sweep up my feet to my head, his red eyes glowing a bit when he stares back at mine. "You look very beautiful. Red suits you perfectly. Brings out the…" He moves his hand to my hair, curling it around his finger. "Chaos in you more wondrously."

It's a V neck sleeveless silk dress with diamonds littering every part of it and it hugs my frame, making me feel too… Present. I don't like the feeling. "You said we'd talk."

He chuckles. "Now, you wish to talk?" He moves away and returns back to his chair then sits on it, crossing his legs again as he stares at me with amusement in his eyes. "That's odd. You have never willingly wanted to do so before."

He waves a hand in the air and immediately, people appear with bowls of ice cream that they place on the table. As soon as they place it down, he waves again and they disappear before he turns to me. "Strawberry. French Vanilla. Lemon. Raspberry and Orange flavors. These are the most popular here in France so I thought you might enjoy any of them. Would you like to taste them?"

I don't like this new feeling in my belly. It feels… familiar. Old. My eyes go to the ice creams. I know if I taste them, I'll feel better. Food always makes me feel better, but I don't want him to continue this. "I want to go to school."

"You do not like school." He says, "Please, come close and—"

"No."

He pauses, staring at me. I see his eyes darken but it disappears almost as fast as I'd seen it as he shuts his mouth now, forcing a smile to his face as he chuckles, "I understand. Wearing all of those clothes has possibly exhausted you. Forgive me, I just couldn't help staring at how beautiful you looked. If there's anything you want, tell me—"

"I want to go to school."

"You do not." The voice that says it does not sound like him. It's primal, and feels older than anything I can imagine. I feel the hair all over my body rise as I stare at him but I don't show any reactions towards it. He keeps staring at me, a vicious look in his eyes before he places his hand over them and sighs, resting more into the chair. "Go change into whatever you desire. We're leaving. Now."

I walk away. The attendants follow me back to my changing room but this time, I don't let them enter. I make them stay at the door and lock myself inside before opening one of the windows and jumping out of it to the platform outside. It's easy to not spot anyone around because he's cleared everyone else just like the restaurant, keeping it empty again except for a handful of people.

That's good.

It's getting a bit dark and it's cold, though everyday is always cold but I feel it more now because I don't have a sweater over me, not that I mind it. He had let me take off my shoes because of how they hurt from how I had to keep going back and forth in his dresses but feeling them on the icy ground feels good, though a little prickly.

I don't know where I'm going but I keep walking till I reach a busy street, filled with people going back and forth. Luckily, no one seems to care about a girl in a red flowing dress walking barefoot through them. Soon enough, I'm hungry again but I don't pay any attention to it because that's what makes it worse. Attention.

I'm quite silly with how I keep walking around, even though I have not the slightest idea of where I'm going but I can't seem to care. Something in me tells me to keep going, to enjoy the silence for as long as I can. That is until I notice I'm being followed.

I had a while ago, it's a sensation I'd grown attuned to but I'd buried it down, that is until I feel the person get really close and I stop in my steps. It's positively dark now but I can sense this person. It's very easy to and the moment I turn, I can spot him easily though he turns around, walking back now.

I stare at his retreating figure for the first few seconds, wondering about what to do before I walk to him and pinch his sweater. Doing so keeps him from walking so he stops for a bit but when he turns, he doesn't yell or try to act like I'm being weird. Instead, he lets out an awkward laugh and puts a hand on his head, scratching it nervously. "You caught me."

"You're bad at it." I say and turn around, walking away.

Instantly, he's at my side and talking haphazardly. I pick all of his words, of course, but most of it becomes static eventually. "I'm Matthew. You look cold, would you like my sweater? You don't talk a lot, huh? What are you doing here by the way? Is there something you'd—"

I turn around to look at him. He pauses in his steps, his chest rising and falling as he stares back at me. He's human, and annoying. And here I was thinking that the other one was more annoying. Oh. Just realized I didn't know that one's name. How absurd. I should ask him when I see him again.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you. I just—" His hand goes to the camera around his neck and he raises it slightly. "I'm a photographer and you look… Well, there's a look to you right now that kept calling to me. I couldn't resist following you."

"How do I look?" I ask.

Matthew looks like he hadn't expected that answer and he blinks for the first few seconds, trying to think before he says, "Um… Don't get me wrong. You look like a princess running away from like… A dragon or something." Then he chuckles nervously, scratching his head. "I don't know. There's something wildly… Sensational about it. And it makes me want to ask you questions, or help in any way I can." Then his face softens. "Can I? Please?"

He's lying. The uneasiness, the awkwardness. It's too much. He's human, but he hasn't been around someone like him in a while. Humans no longer act this nice to each other and I'm not stupid. I know Vampire Pets have marks on the back of their hands and he keeps hiding it to his head.

People are very silly sometimes.

"Yes." Again, he's surprised at my reply. Did he think I'd fight? I'm too hungry to. Plus, I'll like him to stop talking for a while. Listening to lies makes me not feel good. "Can we go now? I'm hungry."

Matthew's head bobs excitedly, "Yes, yes, of course. This way." He walks ahead and I follow him. I can tell his excitement is honest but I don't care for it. As we keep walking, Matthew seems genuinely eager to help, but he's unaware that my motivations are driven by practicality rather than sentiment. As we walk together, he continues to chatter about his life, interests, and how he ended up in photography. I half-listen, occasionally nodding or making vague responses.

That is until we reach a part of the streets where there's no one else, an alley to be precise that's extremely dark and I'm suddenly pressed to the wall. He isn't putting too much pressure on my neck as he pins his arm on it, his eyes pleading as he says, "I'm sorry about this, but I promise, nothing's going to—"

I don't get to hear the rest of the words as his head suddenly explodes and his body flies somewhere far away. I watch as it happens before turning to the figure towering over me. It's the red eyes I notice first and I see it. The rage.

He's heaving, positively boiling as he reaches out for my face. I can tell from how they look that he must have popped Matthew's head with his hand. I try to think of how practical and possible it is but it doesn't come together. Instead, I put my focus on him as I hear him say in a hiss-like whisper, "Do you have any idea what you made me do when I realized I could no longer hear your heartbeat close to me?"

"You are late." I say.

He stares for the first few seconds before he chuckles, his hand now tipping my face upwards as he holds my chin. There's a madness in his eyes now as he asks, "You knew, didn't you? That I'd go crazy looking for you and you did it anyway."

I don't answer him. He waits, expecting an answer and when I don't give him, he punches the wall just a few inches away from my head and shouts, "Do you have any fucking idea how badly I want to take your head off your body?! What if someone else found you? What if he hurt you? What if—?"

"You wouldn't let that happen. I matter to you." I cut in. He stares at me again, his mouth slightly open as I continue. "You weren't listening to me so I left. I can do it again next time. Permanently. I'll go somewhere you can't find me."

"Where?"

"Death." Terror immediately flashes his face though I pause, tilting my head. "Is that sentence correct? I don't think it is so—"

Suddenly, he pulls me into his body. It's tight, and restrictive but for some reason, my body doesn't fight it. Instead, it relaxes into his arms as I hear him whisper, "Stop speaking before I kill you and let's go home, little fox."

Do I argue? No. I'm too hungry to. Plus, it's nice to see him talk less. I like his voice. "Okay."