Forever (4 page)

Chapter Four

I didn’t return to The Glen for the day
like usual. I stayed in the woods, as close to my Emilee as I could, agonizing
over what I had said. I felt incredibly stupid.

I’m your friend?! Why did I say that?
If I’d been able
to beat myself up I probably would have done it. I couldn’t believe I’d told
her I loved her either.
What if she doesn’t feel the same and now she’ll
want me to leave her alone?
More than my physical desires were invested
now. My heart wouldn’t be able to take it if she asked me not to return. It was
like she had enchanted me instead of the other way around, like every other
time I’d entered someone’s mind.

Should I not go back at all and save
myself the heartache?
I knew I would, though. There were a million
questions and doubts running through my mind. I also knew that if she asked me
to leave I would probably sit on the edge of the forest for the rest of forever
and just wish to be with her.

Love was agonizingly and stupidly
complicated.

It seemed like night would never come.
When it finally did I refused to admit to myself how scared I was to return to
Emilee. I felt like my world could fall apart at any moment. Her mind finally
brushed lightly against my own and I took a deep breath—it was time to meet my
fate.

We were in the dance hall once more. She
was facing away from me, stretching in front of the mirrors, wearing a simple
black dress. Her feet were bare, her hair in a ballerina bun. As usual, I
changed my attire to match—black slacks, button up shirt, and bare feet.

She watched my reflection in the mirror
as I walked in slowly and I held my breath.
This is it!
The rhythm of my
heart pounded the words into my soul. She slowly stood and turned to face me,
expressionless, her hand held out like the first night we met. I was confused;
my heart didn’t know whether to pound or stop dead in its tracks.

Somewhat deflated, I walked over and
assumed a dancing form with her. Soft piano music began to play and our dance
took motion. She didn’t speak and I was too scared to even open my mouth and
ask her anything.

“I had a bad day,” she said softly after
a few movements. I was caught off guard and remained silent—she wasn’t starting
with my confession from the night before. My heart tightened a little bit, as I
wondered if it was my fault she was unhappy. After a few more moments of
silence, she started again.

“I always like to come here and dance
when I’ve had a bad day. I like coming when I haven’t had bad days, but that’s
beside the point. Today was just a bad day. You know what I mean?” I managed to
nod my head to avoid interrupting her—I felt she needed to say what was on her
mind. It felt like something was crushing my chest as I listened to what she said
next.

“My mother wanted me to take dance
lessons,” she started again, leaving me completely clueless as to where the
conversation was going. I wondered if I was about to get told off or something.
“She drove me to class every day, came to every recital, videotaped every
little performance . . . She always told me I was the prettiest
little dancer she’d ever seen,” she laughed. Suddenly her eyes filled with
tears and she stopped dancing all together and looked up into my eyes. “She got
very sick,” she whispered. “I was out of high school by then and there was no
one but me to take care of her, so I stopped going to classes. She always said
how much she wanted to see me dance again, that it made her so happy, but I
never did. I was too worried about her.” She swallowed hard, and looked down at
the floor, her body beginning to tremble. A new type of dread filled me as I
realized this conversation had absolutely nothing to do with me. I could barely
hear her when she spoke again, her voice thick with emotion. “She died today.”

My heart broke for her, and I shared in
the agony, which was displayed plainly before me. “Oh Emilee,” I said
sorrowfully. I drew her into my embrace as she began to sob. She held on to me
like I was the only thing she had left, crying into my chest. It occurred to me
I might actually be the last thing she had left. Eventually, we moved to the
edge of the room where we sat up against the wall. The rest of the night was
spent in silence as we held each other and Emilee cried. I wanted to say
something, anything, that would help her, but I didn’t know what words to use.
I felt helpless as I cradled her against me, her tears soaking my shirt. When
her mind began to pull away from mine I knew she was no more rested than when
she went to sleep.

Emilee looked worn out the next night—in
the same outfit with dark circles under her eyes. She sat next to the same wall
with her eyes closed. I felt the shattering in my chest again.

I came prepared though. It occurred to
me the night before that I knew next to nothing about her other than she loved
dancing, wanted to see the world, her father was gone, and her mother had died
the day before. Tonight I would try and help her forget the latter, if only for
a little while.

I walked to her and sat down, wrapping
my arms around her as she cuddled up against me. As soon as we were comfortable
I launched right into my plan.

“Emilee,” I began, “What was your
favorite thing to do as a child? . . . other than dance that
is.” I waited patiently for her reply, knowing I’d caught her off guard. I
desperately wanted my plan to work. After a few moments she finally responded.

“I liked to play on the swing set in our
back yard. I would imagine I could fly.” She looked up and smiled at me weakly
while she answered. I smiled as well, knowing that distracting her was a good
idea.

“And why would you imagine flying?” I
asked curiously.

“Every kid imagines they can fly, Raith.
I preferred a swing over jumping off the roof like other kids.” I laughed at
her comment and she giggled a little in reply, giving me confidence to
continue.

“What else did you like to do?” All
night I question her about everything I could think of, helping her to think of
anything but her reality of sorrow. I learned that she had been an honors
student all through school, loved the color blue, and liked to spend her
afternoons reading. Her favorite thing to eat was a good cheeseburger and
fries, and she worked at the library but she really wanted to teach dance for a
living.

We laughed over her memory of being so
excited to go to her first midnight movie with her friends when she was in high
school. She spent the whole time running around and acting crazy. When the
movie finally started, she was so tired from all of her excitement that she
fell asleep five minutes after it started.

Each new thing I learned made me love
her more. I wished I could spend every moment with her and see the things from
her waking world. I wanted her forever, no matter what happened. I felt sick as
cold reality slapped me in the face again; this was not real. It was a dream. I
would not be able to keep her forever. Someday she would die, and I would still
be stuck here . . . without her. All I would have left were
my memories of us—memories that happened in a world that didn’t really exist.

I pushed my own fears and doubts away.
Tonight
is for Emilee, not for me.

I could tell she felt better by the time
she began to wake up. It lifted a weight off of me, and I hoped her good
feelings would last throughout the day. “Thank you, Raith,” she said seriously
as our minds began to untangle themselves. “Thank you very, very much.” She
kissed me on the cheek as she faded the rest of the way out.

A feeling of accomplishment surrounded
me, and I felt good about ending the night right there. I had never been so
happy to help someone in my life.

The next night followed the same basic
pattern. We sat on the floor and I picked through Emilee’s brain, but I was
running out of things to ask her and I could sense she still needed more of a
distraction than just dancing would bring.

“Raith,” she said after a lull in our
conversation, “Will you tell me about you now? I think I’ve told you just about
everything there is to know about me.” She smiled at me sweetly, waiting
patiently for a reply. I already decided beforehand that I would tell her the
truth if she asked for it again. It still scared me to death to tell her,
though.

“What do you want to know?” I asked her,
not sure where to start.

“You’re not human,” she stated calmly,
sure of herself.

“What makes you think that?” I asked
curiously, trying to buy time to calm my nerves.

“I don’t know very many humans who can
magically enter someone’s dreams every night.”

I chuckled and held her tighter,
nuzzling my nose into her hair. “Well you’re right. I’m not a human being, not
technically anyway.” Emilee looked up at me, eyebrows raised.

“Technically?”

“Well, according to our history or
legends, whatever you want to call them,” I began, “the very first of my kind
were humans. They were all brother and sister too.” I loved the way she looked
at me with supreme interest. I twisted my fingers into her hair at my favorite
spot—the nape of her neck—and slowly trailed them through the soft strands
until my fingers became free. I continued the movement absentmindedly, not
realizing I had stopped talking until Emilee spoke.

“And?” She looked at me with wide eyes,
waiting to hear the rest of the story. “How did they
become . . . whatever it is you are?” She laughed a little as
she said the last part, obviously unaware of what I was. I wasn’t surprised, of
all the human concepts detailing how Fae came to be, the truth is the least
known.

“Well,” I began again, adding an air of
mystery to my voice, “it was their mother’s fault really. You see, her husband
died and she was terrified the gods were going to take her children from her
also. So, she hid them in the forest to keep them safe—from being stolen away.
However, the gods, knowing and seeing all, were enraged at her attempt to fool
them. When the mother went to find her children, no matter how hard she tried,
she couldn’t locate them. The gods had cursed them to be a hidden people.”
Emilee’s eyes widened and she smiled knowingly.

“Fairies,” she whispered, biting her lip
the way I liked. I laughed, moving my hand from her hair to stroke the side of
her face.
Pretty and smart.

“Yes, fairies is what the general human
term has become. We call ourselves Fae though,” I informed her. “Do I look like
some girly fairy to you?” I demanded jokingly, releasing her and making a show
of flexing my muscles. She laughed as I hoped she would and then gently touched
my arm.

“No, you don’t,” she started, “But is
this what you really look like all the time? Can’t fairies, I mean Fae, use
glamour?” She seemed to realize that her hand was still on my flexed arm and
blushed, pulling it away quickly. I chuckled and pulled her into my embrace,
cradling her head on my shoulder and holding her tightly.

“My eyes are normally red,” I said
truthfully, “And my ears are usually quite a bit pointier. Glamour can only
make me taller or shorter, not change my appearance.” I smiled at her as she
turned her face up to look at me. She still looked somewhat confused.

“Do you have wings?” She grimaced
slightly, growing more embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, “You don’t
have to answer if it’s too personal. I’m not sure what’s polite to ask you.”
She looked away apologetically.

“It’s not rude,” I laughed, “How else
are you supposed to find out if you don’t ask questions?”

“Well fine then!” she stated. “Do you
have wings or not?” She pushed herself out of my arms, choosing instead to sit
cross legged in front of me, smiling.

“I do not,” I grinned. “It’s actually
very rare to come across a Fae with wings, and when you do, it’s usually a
person of great importance. Wings are a gift from the gods,” I explained. “You
have to do something supremely great to be gifted a pair.”

“Have you ever met someone with them?”
she asked curiously.

“I have,” I began, but was interrupted
by a brilliant idea. “I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I have an idea,
but I need to know if you trust me first.”

Chapter Five

Emilee looked at me curiously. “What’s
your idea? You know I trust you already.” She smiled sweetly, reaching up to
brush a strand of hair from my face. Her touch caused me to pause as I enjoyed
the shivers she gave me. My eagerness to put my new idea into motion brought me
back to the conversation quickly, though.

“It would involve me controlling your
dream.” I held my breath as her eyes widened with surprise.
Please, trust me
enough!

“Why would you want to do that?”

“I’ll explain after. If you’ll let me do
it, that is.”

She gazed at me evenly, studying my
face. She seemed to be contemplating my proposal very seriously. I knew she
would love what I had in mind, mostly because I loved it. I hoped she would
agree to let me take control. It would be hard for her to relinquish the power
though, and I knew she would guard herself carefully. There was just something
about her that said she needed that dominion. After a few moments, she
answered.

“I don’t know how to let you take
control. Is there a certain way to do it?” Her voice sounded a little shaky. I
knew she had just given up something huge for me, and I wanted to show her my
thanks by making it worth her while. My heart hummed, as an idiotic grin
overtook my face.

“I’m not sure. I tried to control your
dream the first night we met but you stopped me somehow. Do you remember doing
anything to fight me?” She gave me a look that was half scolding, half curious.
I grimaced a little when I realized what I had revealed to her, but I was too
excited to care.

“No, I don’t remember doing anything
different from what I always do.”

This was becoming harder than I thought
it would be. I ran my hands through my hair and pursed my lips. “Well,” I
started, “How about we just try it and see if it works? Maybe if you’re aware
you’re going to give up control, I’ll be able to take over easier.”

Emilee nodded and smiled, but I didn’t
miss the look of fear that danced through her eyes.

“Hey,” I said softly, hugging her
tighter and placing a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t be scared. I promise I’m not
going to let anything happen to you.” I smiled, moving my hands to tangle my
fingers in her hair. “I love you. You’ll like this idea.” She nodded quickly,
her face hidden in my shoulder, strengthening her grip on me.

“Go ahead and try then.” Her voice was
firm but muffled by my shirt.

“Close your eyes,” I whispered into her
ear. I tightened my grip as well, and began to remember one of my own memories.
Nothing changed. Frustrated, I tried to reach out to the outer parts of
Emilee’s mind, feeling for a break somewhere. Her defenses were like iron and
just as I was about to give up and think of another way to take control, I
found the tiniest of cracks in her self control.

Gently, I pushed at the weak spot until
I made my way completely through it. I was hit by a wall of emotions I never
realized she’d been holding from me. I could feel her timid fear at what was
happening, the pain she still felt over the loss of her mother—and love.
Suddenly, I realized the love was for me. It was overwhelming, strong, and
true. I felt my own heart warm in the revelation that she loved me.

Curious, I opened my own mind a little
and released some of my own emotions, mostly my love for her. She softly gasped
as she felt what I did, and her grip became even tighter as the foreign
feelings invaded her. The wave of shock eventually subsided and all we were
left with was love. It felt wonderful, our feelings plainly displayed.

“Are you ready?” I asked, my excitement
finally overtaking my feelings.

“That wasn’t it?” She giggled as my
feelings pushed against hers.

“Not even close,” I laughed.

“Okay, I’m ready then.”

“Keep your eyes closed,” I reminded,
even though she’d never opened them. I closed my own as well, and took a deep
breath.

Slowly, I began to weave one of my
memories into existence. When I was finished, I opened my eyes to survey my
handiwork.

The green hills of Scotland formed
around us, the blue sky stretching as far as I could see—not a single cloud
marred its appearance. A gentle stream trickled through the grasses. Even the
slight breeze was exactly as I remembered it.

When I was finally satisfied I had
remembered everything correctly, I had Emilee open her eyes. Her smile was
contagious.

“Where are we?” She stepped out of my
embrace and bent down to touch the grass, laughing.

“Scotland,” I chuckled. “I spent a
summer here once, long ago. The Fae held rituals in these hills.”

“What kind of rituals?” She questioned
further.

“The kind that are either too
embarrassing to remember or too complicated to explain,” I laughed again.

“I’ve read stories of people being
enchanted by fairies and led away,” she said as she twirled around, her arms
outstretched. “Is that what you did? You led young girls away to their doom?”
She giggled as she waited for my answer.

“Not exactly. We always made sure they
made it home safely,” I said uncomfortably. My reply caused her to stop her
twirling.

“Oh,” she said apologetically.

“Eh, it's no big deal.” I laughed away
the uncomfortable feelings. I didn’t seem to care about my past endeavors at
that moment. “That's not why we're here, anyway.”

Emilee looked at me, eyebrows raised and
smiled slightly. “Oh? And why are we here then?” she teased.

“To dance—why else?” I held my hand out
to her and remembered the music of Scottish bagpipes. As the sound filled the
air around us, and Emilee took my hand. She surprised me when she began the
traditional dance that went along with the song.

We danced joyously until there was no
music I could remember. It felt like we’d been together for mere minutes,
although, I was sure that hours had passed. With a breathless gesture, we
flopped down onto the grass, finding our way into each other's arms, and gazed
up into the blue sky. I was thinking of what to say next, when Emilee beat me
to the punch.

“What’s the worst thing you’ve ever
done?” she giggled.

“Wow, what a question!” I laughed. I
pondered for a moment longer and then answered.

“I had this friend, Michael and we did
so much stuff together,” I laughed. “We were actually responsible for a lot of
things humans can’t explain.”

“Like what?” she asked excitedly.

“Michael had power that made him able to
cloak a person’s appearance for a limited amount of time. We weren’t very
responsible with it,” I chuckled, remembering all of the trouble we’d gotten
ourselves into.

“The first thing we ever did with it was
invent the Loc Ness Monster. He disguised me as this giant water creature and I
swam around in the lake for a little while. Everyone started freaking out about
it and eventually—when the Mother figured out what we’d done—we got in a lot of
trouble for it.”

Emilee was laughing, sparkles gleaming
in her gaze.

“What else have you done, oh great
prankster?” She said in a mocking tone, bowing her head in reverence for added
effect. “Is Bigfoot your creation as well?”

“Well,” I said, getting slightly
embarrassed.

“No way!” she snorted. “You did that
too?”

“Actually, that one was all Michael,
although we both got in a lot of trouble for it—mostly because we had been
making fun of how a certain Fae walks. Turns out, he was high on the important
person list and had just been keeping it to himself.” It had been a while since
Michael and I had been into mischief together. We were separated by the Mother
when she’d had enough of our excursions.

“So you’ve always been a jokester. What
an interesting and new side to you!”

She was making fun of me but I didn’t
mind. I loved her laugh and the way we were able to talk so freely with each
other.

We laughed together a little bit longer,
and then fell silent as we took in our surroundings once more.

“This place is beautiful. I can see why
your kind would come here to perform their sacred rituals.” I could see the sky
reflected in Emilee's eyes. Her hair lay perfectly around her head—like a
crown—and in that moment I wished again we would never have to be apart.

I could feel her mind starting to slowly
slip away and I began to ready myself for the imminent separation. I
felt . . . surprisingly good for telling her my secret and
sharing part of myself with her. She knew everything now, and it didn’t seem to
matter to her. She hadn’t asked me to leave, and that was all the invitation I
needed to keep returning.

Emilee suddenly looked me right in the
eye and said, “Raith, do you really love me?” I was caught off guard by the
sudden change in topic and quickly stammered out my consent. My heart went from
a normal rate to that of a race horse in a second and my mouth went dry. I’d almost
forgotten I’d told her that during all of my questioning. Her gaze softened
and—fighting to remain asleep—she leaned in slowly and kissed my lips.

The fire returned like it had never been
gone, filling me with desire and longing. I reached out for her, pulling her
onto my lap with her legs around my waist. I grasped her as she held my face in
her hands, kissing me with renewed heat. I nipped her lower lip with my teeth
and she sighed softly, holding me tighter.

She began to fade away faster, no longer
able to keep herself asleep. She broke away to look at me one last time before
she was gone completely. As our minds slid delicately apart and I could no
longer see her, I heard her voice like a whisper on the wind.

“I love you, too.”