2001

*

Nothing brought me down to Earth more than the taste of her skin. In the summers, Charlotte was sweet, like the darkest plums ripened by the sun. In the winters, she clung to my body for heat, and when she'd sweat, the salt of her kept me awake.

I had never loved anyone the way I loved her, never cherished another soul the way I did hers.

She was the gift of life within my everlasting existence. With her, I remained constant in a world full of inconsistencies. Charlotte was the beauty of my darkness, the light of my moon. I wanted nothing more than to love her until our souls faded like candles, for she was my ever-burning flame.

These thoughts should have been the memories that powered my sleeping mind. Memories of her smile dripping into stunning dreams. To feel her hand on my skin again. To touch her, have her, kiss her once more.

I missed her.

Instead, I dreamt of the night I'd left. The one day I regretted the most.

I stood in the center of that living room, in between the black leather couches separating our yells. I couldn't recall the hour, but I knew it was late. Late enough that all the bars had closed; that was the only reason I had returned home. I didn't return for her, or the condo we shared, no. I was selfish, unconcerned about that part of my life. She'd hated me then, and I thought it'd be easier if she never saw my face.

"Three nights," Charlotte screamed. Her hands dug into the back of the couch for support. Her eyes, red from crying, blinked away tears, and her heart—my heart—hammered away in her chest. "You haven't been home in three nights!

My hair was cut short, and small waves slapped against my forehead as I slid my fingers through it. I was drunk, beyond drunk. There was no money in my pockets because I'd given it to the bars. My last drink cost me my gold watch; the same watch Charlotte had bought me for one of my many birthdays.

With a sniff, I looked around our dark living room and at the pictures that covered the walls. We were happy once. "It's not like you'd want me home. If you say you did, you'd be lying."

"I was worried sick!" She threw a couch pillow at my face. "Who am I supposed to call if you go missing? The police?"

I dropped down on the opposite couch, the alcohol sinking further into my blood. The room spun as she picked up the table lamp in her hands. I watched it as it crashed down on the floor, thrown in rage. I laughed. Why did I laugh?

"You could call them if you wanted, my love, but what good are they?" I licked my lips. "Fucking pigs can't find me for the men I've killed, what makes you think they'd find me at a bar?"

"Why do I worry? I hate you!" Another pillow flew at me, this one hitting my stomach. "I can't stand you!"

I closed my eyes, allowing my head to lean back against the back of the couch. "Yes, yes, you say it all the time. I'm the vile demon who stole your virtue. God, may he cast me to hell where I belong."

Her fingers were suddenly on my chin, yanking my face towards hers. I opened my eyes to see hers full of light, bright as the lamp she had destroyed. Her lips pulled down into a frown that sullied her gorgeous face.

Gently, I touched her shoulder, but she hit me.

"You only think of yourself," she hissed. "It's all you've ever done."

Inebriated and amused, I cupped her face in return. "Would you mind telling me what else I've done wrong? You do it so well."

She slapped me. Hard. I felt my lip split at the corner. The heat of blood slid down my face. Yet, I held my smirk firm as I looked into her bright, yellow eyes.

"You're never home." She shook her head. "You don't care anymore. You leave me here by myself, to do what, now? You haven't the slightest idea how I feel!"

I mimicked the bit of southern that oozed on her tongue. "Now, sugar, I surely do know. You make sure to remind me whenever you see me."

She hit me again, harder than the last. I grabbed her wrist in my hand as I pulled her down on my lap. I forced her legs open, to straddle me, and she did, despite her protests. "I hate you," she said again.

"I'm sure you always did." My voice slurred as the last bottle of whiskey I drank hit my veins stiff. The delayed intoxication made my head spin as I gripped her wrists so hard, she grimaced in pain. "I've always hurt you, haven't I?"

"Lamont, you're scum of the Earth."

I moaned, my eyes burned. "Keep going."

"You're a monster. A demon."

I tugged at her hips. "Don't stop."

Charlotte jumped off me as she ran through the kitchen and into our bedroom. I chased after her, slamming the door behind me. I didn't give her the chance to turn as I threw her on the bed. When she crawled up to the top of our pillows, I followed after her, my knees tugging at the sheets. She slapped me again, and I grabbed her hand. She kicked at me, and I pinned her legs. In seconds—no, faster—she was trapped under the weight of my body.

This was it—our nights. Arguments that led into rough sex. Sex that led into awkward mornings. It was only in those moments that I prayed she'd forgiven me. I knew it wouldn't last, but I told myself we'd make it, we'd pull through.

Yet, she looked at me with the most distaste I'd ever seen in her eyes.

I couldn't continue.

"Mon chéri," I whispered as I sat up, "look at me."

"No," she whispered as she rolled over in bed.

No amount of alcohol could keep me from this. I touched her, coaxed her; I pulled at her legs, but she screamed and clawed at me. "You did this to me!"

I sat back, eyes wide.

This was my fault, wasn't it? I had been the one to remove her humanity, her very existence. I was her reason for becoming non-existent, the reason she'd never be. Her life was forever in my hands and she wanted nothing more than mortality. That was always it, wasn't it? She wanted Christmases and birthdays, friends and family dinners.

She wanted normal, while I was content being a demon with no bounds.

"Just leave." She closed her eyes and clutched our pillow. "Leave me alone."

"Charlotte, I—"

"No." She pressed her face against the red satin that decorated our bed. "I don't want to see your face or hear your voice. I don't want you near me."

I sucked in a breath.

"I pray for your soul, Lamont Oliver. I pray that God has mercy on you. On me, for loving you."

"Charlotte, you don't mean this."

She rolled on her stomach. Her shirt lifted high on her back as she adjusted the pillow under her face. She wouldn't look at me, or talk to me, and simply cried.

I inched off the bed. "It was only a drink," I whispered.

No words.

"I can do better."

"You can't," she said, "it's impossible for you."

Every part of me hurt. Tears burned in my eyes, but I sucked in the urge to cry. She was emotional, that was all. In the morning, she'd make breakfast, even if she refused to speak to me. The forgiveness would be there in some way or form. I wanted it to be there.

Yet, when she shifted and looked at me with the dark eyes, I knew it wouldn't be. We were done. I'd ruined her life enough. What was the saying? When you love something enough, you let it go?

Still, I tried, just once more. "Charlotte May, you're all I have in this world."

"I hate you," she whispered as she covered her mouth, new tears in her eyes, "and I wished I never survived this awful curse. Maybe I'm thankful we never had children, because they'd live like this, with you."

The tears fell, despite my attempt to stop them. I nodded because she was right. I had told her time and time again, I was a useless beast, but she wouldn't believe me.

Now, she saw the truth, right into my soul. I was dark, evil, and meant to bring hell on Earth. Who was I to love someone so pure? To taint her body and deny her access to heaven?

I shifted off the bed and walked out of the room.

"Leave!" she cried as I lifted my jacket in my hands. "That's all you're good for!"

"I love you, Charlotte," I said, grabbing my journal from our desk. I wanted to take it, to keep my memories so I wouldn't forget, but the pages felt heavy in my hand. I glanced down at the leather book, my first birthday gift from Charlotte, and knew I shouldn't take it.

What good were the memories if she wouldn't be with me?

With a sigh, I placed it back on my desk and headed for the door.

"Go on! Leave! I won't follow you this time! You can burn in hell alone!"

The doorknob burned in my hand as I gave it a twist. I walked into the hell that already settled on Earth, alone, just like she wanted. Maybe, just maybe, she'd be better off without me.

She screamed so loud as I walked down the hall that our neighbors opened their doors. I didn't look at them, even as they tried to get my attention. I was done, gone, just as she wished.