48. My Lighthouse

Laura - The cabin in the woods
I look at the wooden ceiling, my head flooded with questions. Why am I here with Paul? Why does having him so near make me feel so good?
His arm is around my waist, his hot breath on my shoulder. I'm too scared to move. Is it because I don't want to wake him up, or because it's so good that I want to stop time right here and now?
His head moves, and his lips touch my neck. “You can’t sleep?”
I nod. My throat doesn't seem ready to form words.
“Why?” He groans, pulling me closer to him.
Why am I not asleep? Because his heart beats far too loudly. I can’t stop wondering if it pounds like that for me. My misgivings are mine to bear. What would be the point of saying them out loud?
“Strigois don’t need sleep.” My voice comes out cold and assertive, and I’m relieved. “Since it’s optional and I’ve been dozing off enough these days, I can’t seem to sleep anymore.”
To clear my head, I feel like I need to distance myself from him for some reason. Taking the sheet with me, I wrap it around my shoulders and go to the window. There's no moon, but the sky sparkles with brilliant stars.
"Seeing you with all of these people today gave me a lot to think about."
“Like what?”
“You all seem to be like a big, happy family. How’s that possible? Humans aren’t like that.”
"Neither are the wolves. Since taking leadership, I've worked hard to bring everyone together." I hear him getting out of bed and then walking across the floor. "Wouldn't it be fantastic if every creature of every race were allowed into a single community?" he says in my hair as his arms pull me into a warm hug.
“Oh, Paul.” I press my hands over his. “You’re such a dreamer.”
"I’m a realistic dreamer." He chuckles softly. "I know I can’t achieve this. So I’ve settled for a smaller goal. To make it a reality, at least for the people around me, for those I care about." He brushes aside my hair and places a gentle kiss on my neck. "Let me know when I accomplish this for you. I accept you, Laura, just the way you are. But I have to make you feel it all by yourself."
The sheer beauty of Paul's heart mesmerizes me through the cracks of my soul’s ruins. Why does he want to mend this broken wreck? His life is too short for such a feat.
I turn around to look at him. With my back pressed against the window, I open up the sheet and welcome him inside it. He steps closer, and I latch my hands behind his shoulders, trapping him within the thin, white veil.
His head is gently bent toward me, as his fingers softly caress my back. I strive to resist the beautiful feelings that want to overpower me.
“Sorry, Paul, but when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is exactly just that. Care to tell me what changed?”
“I went to see my father.” He sighs, and I struggle not to kiss those wonderful parted lips. “For the first time, I saw him for what he truly is: a defeated man. I always thought he was strong and wise, but I was wrong. He never fought for what he wanted and preferred to hide in the depths of pity and self-loathing somewhere away from other beings.”
“I don’t—”
“Let me finish.” Paul cups my face with both hands and draws me closer. “On the bottom of a glass of moonshine, I’ve seen the truth. I will end up like him if I continue on the path I've set for myself. I stopped fighting for what I wanted and put other things above myself and my feelings. I was hiding just like my father, but instead of a cottage in the woods, I had a mountain of rules to use as excuses. Not anymore. Not ever again.”
The kiss that follows is warm and full of feelings. I’ve never expected him to be so open about everything, to tell me things close to his heart. Am I there too? Is he really considering making room for a strigoi in his heart?
I can't hold back the tears that threaten to spill down my cheeks. I want to say yes, that I want to do that too, but I'm terrified. I don't know how to do this.
Leaning with his forehead against mine, his hands still holding my face, Paul continues his confession.
"When I care about someone, I don’t hold back. I offer them everything I have, everything I am. As time passed and I got hurt because of this, I thought I was weak and pathetic. Barely a few days ago, I realized it's quite the opposite. Holding back and shielding your heart is what weak men do because they are afraid of getting hurt."
Paul pulls away, and I stare into his eyes, searching for answers in their depths.
One of his hands drops from my face and saunters over my shoulder and down my arm. He takes my hand and presses it over his chest.
“I’m going all-in, regardless if you like it or not. Even if you hurt me, I’ll be fine. I always come back one way or another. But holding back is something I refuse to do from now on.”
A dazzling beam of light shines through the fissures of my collapsing soul. He is a lighthouse, trying to guide me through the darkness. But I've grown accustomed to it, and now that's all I know. I can barely breathe, and my faux heart is pounding like mad. He's bold, but I'm too terrified to face the light.
I will try to share some of his courage. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pull him into a tight embrace. His body responds to my touch.
I raise on my toes and tug him closer for another kiss. All I can do for now is to stay at the threshold between light and darkness and enjoy the warmth of my lighthouse.