Junipea’s hand rested on Ava’s and helped her play a more natural tune on this stringed instrument. Her fingers eased its way over one key and then another, striking down hard on the cool ivory to make a melody, so horrendous, Junipea laughed at her shameful hot face.
Ava’s gaze narrowed on his honeydew eyes. They twinkled with excitement, teasing her as he moved her hand once more. His fair freckled skin was like a blanket of stars covering her olive brown. But the longer they trained outside, the more tanned her skin became, while his skin turned red as a ripe tomato, bleaching his orange curly hair.
The keypad tonged, blaring out a disgruntled noise. Junipea grimaced. “Don't press down so hard, or you'll break the piano,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Here let me show you. It's easier than you think.”
“Says the master of all piano players. How did I end up letting you teach me, again?” Ava teased, but followed his lead and rested her hand on top of his and played the C major scale. It was always fun to play the imaginary and believe she could do this artsy craft.
He smiled, showing those soft dimples of his. “Because you love me.”
“Ah, no. I think it's because you bribed me with a song.” She smiled back.
His hand moved across the key, pressing each ivory delicately in. The melody came out from the strings and flowed into the ballroom’s high ceilings. Ava’s mind wandered as her fingers danced to his meandering steps. This song was gentle and soothing and tried lulling her to sleep, but it wasn’t the song she wanted to hear.
When he finished, she asked, “Will you play my favorite piece, now?”
“After you do the scale.”
Junipea pinched Ava’s cheek like a child. She swat him away. He was only two years older than her but acted as if he were ten years her senior. It was those eyes of his. A smile may rest on his lips at all times, but he couldn’t hide the darkness lingering beneath. He had seen as much evil as Ava had in the world. He had been evil just like her.
Two years made a big difference when you experienced life sooner.
Ava pressed on the C, D, E until she reached F. It was always the blasted F that had her thumb screwing itself over. She was used to having it curled or straight on the Bō, not dancing it around on table tops. Somehow, she got it right this time.
“See? Wasn’t that easy.” Junipea snickered, trying to not criticize her horrible playing.
Ava shook her head. “If you say so. I think it's easier to throw a knife.”
He set his fingers on the keys and started playing another tune—this time a somber song. “You’re always the best at knife throwing.”
“The best at everything I do, you mean.”
Junipea chuckled. “You’re even great at killing people.”
He never broke his tempo, moving his fingers across with ease. This dark emotion spread throughout the ballroom and inside Ava. “What?”
“Killing people just like that one time. You remember the battle, don’t you?” The tempo picked up, harsher sounds pounded through the rough pressings. It was like the music stirred the darkness inside of her heart and pulled it out, inch by inch.
Ava tried clenching her chest, but her hands wouldn’t move. “What are you talking about?”
Junipea wouldn’t look at her. His fingers continued gliding across the piano, reaching across her, bending under the heavyweight of this intense melody. A drop of blood dripped onto the ivory C, dripped onto the F.
Blood ran from the corner of his lips, crimson spread across his shirt. And all she could do was sit there on the bench and watch, no matter how much she tried to move.
“You slashed them all. One after the other. Killing anyone who came within your path.” He stopped mid-step to look at her, fingers hovered over the keys. “Don't you remember, Ava? I was standing right in front of you.”
He jerked and grabbed her by the shoulders. They were back on the battlefield. The smell of iron and blood and dust surrounded them—and the silence of all the dead.
Ava clenched her sword’s hilt. She felt the weight of him on the end of her blade. His heartbeat pounded through the metal and into her hand.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” Junipea whispered just before he leaned in.
▽ ▽ ▽
Ava gasped awake.
Sweat poured down her face. She clenched her chest, her hair, her arms. Her whole body shook. It felt like her heart might explode. Someone roughly grabbed her by the shoulders. She flinched back, praying that she wouldn't find Junipea’s bloody face.
It was just Marc. He stood at her bedside. She was no longer in the ballroom but in her bedroom. The green couch, the glass coffee table, and a skinned rug covered her chilled tile flooring; it was all normal and how it had always been.
Breathe in… Breathe out…
Marc searched everywhere and everything. When he saw Ava was okay, his fingers rested on her cheeks and stroked her skin. “It was just a dream,” he said, trying to calm her down. “It was just a dream and nothing more.”
Right. It was just a dream. But it was so vivid. She still felt Junipea’s icy touch, like touching the dead.
Her hand enveloped Marc’s, pressing it close. His warmth soothed her. She missed this rough hand, being this close to him. “I’m surprised you’re back already,” she murmured against her pillow.
Marc sat on the edge of Ava’s bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, bringing her closer to him and his alluring wildflower scent, which she didn’t mind at all. “I’ve actually been back for a while,” he said. “You’ve been asleep for two days.”
“You have gotta be kidding. I can’t believe I slept that long.”
Ava sat up quickly. A needle pressed into her arm, tugging as she pulled away. She yanked the needle right out. She could take a sword wound, a knife fight, a punch to the gut, but needles, they were a different story.
Marc frowned as her needle wound closed up. “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“And I wish you wouldn’t do stuff without asking me first,” Ava said, grumbling, “You know I hate needles.”
He sighed and ran fingers through his hair, tempting Ava to run her own fingers through it. The few times he let her, they always reminded her of feathers, soft between her fingers, yet easy to grip when she wanted to pull on them. Ava was a horrible kid.
Once Marc rested his hand on his knee, he fidgeted with the crease of his pants, nervous at how close they were. His eyes roamed the room, looking for a distraction, other than the large hospital gown falling off Ava’s shoulder. It had been ten years since Marc came to live on Earth, and he was still not used to seeing this.
The Ama rarely showed skin out in the open like this. They believed the body was like a sanctuary that should be treasured and covered up. How only their partner should be allowed to unwrap it.
But Ava wasn’t an Ama.
She grasped his hand, partly out of annoyance and partly from imagining this hand being useful somewhere else. And after that dream, she could use the distraction.
He broke the silence as her fingers roamed across his. “It feels like lately, all we’ve been doing is fighting. And I don’t want to fight with you right after you finally woke up.”
“Then what do you want to do with me?”
That caught him off guard. His mouth fell slightly open, eyes wider. He let his defenses go. It’d be easy to pull him on this bed and roll on top of him, have her way with him. When alcohol didn’t work, it was the only alternative Ava found to help her escape reality—escape the horrible things she had done.
But Marc wasn’t a human. Ava couldn’t do this to him.
The second she let his hand go, he stood from the bed. “You should go take a shower. You still reek of demons,” he said, pushing the red specs further up his nose.
“You sure know how to make a girl feel beautiful.” Ava flung the covers off, exposing her bare legs and a little more.
Marc stepped back too quickly and slipped. He fell to the floor, landed on his butt as clear liquid puddled around his shoes. Tiny drops made their way down the tube connected to the medical pole. She broke part of the IV pump in her fit of rage.
“Just pretend you didn't see this,” he quickly stated as if she’d oblige.
Ava snatched her phone off the bedside table and snapped a pic. Blackmail.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Delete that.” He reached for it as he got back up.
“Never.” Laughing, she hopped on the mattress. The mounds of fluff billowed out with each step until she jumped off and ran into her closet.
This was amazing. She had never seen Marc fall.
He was right outside the door. She could sense him. A smile played on her lips. After bundling her clothes around her phone, she left the safe haven of the closet.
Marc stood at the threshold, one hand stretched out. Spots of pink covered his ears. It was actually adorable, and it worsened when she didn’t respond. His face deepened into a shade of red when she simply smiled.
“Hand it over.” He tried being serious, but he couldn't hide the teasing smile for long.
“Hmm. I don't think so.” As soon as he reached for the clothes, Ava ducked under his arm and swiftly locked herself in the bathroom.
Marc tapped lightly on the door soon after, and said her full name with such an alluring, husky voice. She was tempted to open this door.
Ava turned the sink water on. “I'm taking a shower… unless you want to join me?”
His retreating footsteps were more than enough response.
She pressured him in ways he wasn’t used to. She felt like she had to. Ava needed to show him she was no longer the child he met when they first arrived. She was a grown woman now, who had different needs and wants and desires.
Cleaned and dressed, Ava pulled her hair into a bun and inspected the tattoo on the back of her neck. Written with perfection, its black lines traced around into the Ama character for conceal. It was designed to keep her energy at a low point, which in turn, suppressed her abilities.
This was the kind of thinking she had back then and still had. Do whatever it took to stop her from losing control again. She remembered the night Marc placed this curse mark on her, the air was humid and cicadas chirped. His touch was gentle, even though the act hurt like hell. So far, this curse mark worked like a charm.
She just worried Marc would be caught for using a curse mark outside of their own rules and laws. So she hid it well behind a plaster, hoping that one day she wouldn’t need it anymore. That one day she’d be whole again.
Ava reached under the sink and pulled out a plaster. She placed it over the back of her neck. It hid the tattoo, molding with her olive coloring and disappeared into her skin. Now, no one would find it hiding back there.
When she left the bathroom, Marc stood by the window wall, looking out at the flowerbeds and setting sun. It felt forbidden to watch him, knowing exactly what he was.
Eighty years ago, when humans first encountered aliens, they never thought they’d look like them. Or that they’d be friends with them. But here one was, standing in Ava’s bedroom as if he were always a part of this world.
Her first extraterrestrial friend.
“The winter flowers are about to bloom. If we hurry, we’ll make it in time to watch,” Marc said. He was back to his normal perfect self. “Are you up for it?”
Ava snatched her coat off the bench and Marc helped her put it on. His hands touched her shoulders from behind, a mischief gaze told her he was up to no good. “Let’s sneak out. Like old times.”
Her smile deepened as did his, and knew they were in agreement without having to say another word. It felt like they were kids, again, ready to travel the world.
They teleported out of Ava’s room and in the middle of the corridor where their homes connected like a small abode. Startled, the soldiers shifted into attention.
“General. Your Highness,” the left one stated out of formality.
Ava waved them off. “If anyone comes looking for us, tell them we went for a walk.” The right one stepped forward. “Ah, you don’t need to follow us.”
He stopped, both soldiers gave a short salute over their heart. “Yes, General.”
The second Ava and Marc left the corridor, he grabbed her hand. They popped up in the middle of the trees and bushes. The meadow was lush in greenery and trimmed from the gardening, smelling fresh with cut grass and stone pine. They sculpted the plants with the purpose of looking polished and clean. Ava always preferred the outside world where the vines of mother nature grew wild.
When they reached the dark part of the garden and trees, she walked closer, blending in with the shadows. Soldiers patrolled the outskirts, their boots broke twigs and crunched the frosted grass. Two popped up not far behind, their flashlights swept the area.
Marc slid his arm around Ava’s waist and pulled her close. His hot breath brushed her forehead as she embraced him, gripped his shirt. She missed this secure feeling.
They hid in the shadows against a tree just near the garden, an ability to flush with darkness. Marc was the only one she knew who had this ability, and she had yet figured out if it was a family trait or his own personal touch.
As the soldiers moved on, the winter flowers bloomed drops of sunlight. They rose from the fragile spotted blue and purple petals and floated in the cooling fall air. These special flowers came from Amaranthine, a gift they always tried to watch together. It was breathtaking.
Ava pressed her cheek on Marc’s chest, taking in his warmth, mimicking his calm breathing. “So has there been any word on the Black Rabbit who wrecked the Hub?”
“All the cameras were tampered with. The pictures either came out pixelated or destroyed,” he said. “He’s making it hard for us to find him, but we will. Especially now we know they can tamper with the demon’s DNA. They found traces of it in the dust collected.”
She clenched his coat, remembering what happened afterward. She was afraid to ask him about it, but she needed to prepare for what came next. “And what about the twins? Are they okay? Or are they freaked out now after seeing Leo stick a needle in me?”
A breeze flew by, making her burrow further into him. The silence was deafening. She looked up, knowing his response. “Don’t tell me you haven’t gone to see them, yet.”
He just gazed at the winter flowers. No words passed from his lips, but the forlorn eyes and deep setting frown told her more than what words could. “Marc, you can’t keep shutting them out like this. They’re the only family you have left. I’m sure they don’t have any hatred towards you for what happened—”
“It’s just hard to face them,” he whispered so quietly the words almost died in the breeze. “I wouldn’t be the Crown Prince if my parents didn’t kill their parents. How can I face them after that? And knowing that I don’t want this crown just makes it harder.”
Sam was second in line for the throne, when actually, he should be first. The twins' mom was the first-born child, giving her the title Crown Princess. But as the story went, Marc’s mother was jealous of her sister’s power. She not only married sooner, had a child before her, but killed her own sister in cold blood.
Marc would give up the title of Crown Prince in a heartbeat, but he couldn’t. A beautiful curse was marked on his left arm. Its vines wrapped around his skin in black flowers and thorns. It was a curse that held such powerful strength, Ava could barely stand her ground against it. And the only way this curse could be removed was through death or crowning.
When Ava thought back to this family’s tragic story, she wondered how their grandfather felt the moment he executed his last living daughter. She was guilty, but she was still his child.
“Why did your grandfather send all of you guys here to Earth? Isn’t he afraid of losing all his heirs?” she asked.
“He said this experience will teach them to grow into real men and prepare them for life ahead.” Marc laughed under his breath. “I tried reasoning with him, but you know how hard it is to reason with him.”
“So they’re staying for good.”
“Actually, that’s up to you and how well you guys can work together.”
Her eyebrows rose. She was surprised he’d give any leeway.
“My grandfather said if they can’t work as a team within a month’s Earth time span, then he sees no reason for them to continue staying here,” he said, not believing it himself. “For an Ama prince, a month is stretching it. A week should be enough.”
A month was a long time to wait around when Ava needed to find that birth record, and with the twins in the picture, it’d be harder. It was difficult before trying to sneak off grounds. With them here, it just upped the security level. There was no way she could leave without being caught now.
“Do you remember what I told you about koto?” Marc asked.
Ava confidently smiled. She may have feelings for Marc, but she also learned from him. “When they draw the blue lines out in the air, they’re casting a spell,” she said, adding, “And the more intricate the spell, the more energy they use.”
He dug around in his coat pockets. “And if you can’t stop them in time, read what characters they drew so you can block their attack.”
Ava felt like she was being lectured, again. “Don’t worry. You taught me well.”
“I’d worry less if you’d wear this.” He pulled out a necklace. The weight was heavy once it dropped on her palm. “I received this when I became the Crown Prince. It’s a charm that will protect you from any koto spells being used against you, but it won't if the spell is being used to protect you.”
She carefully analyzed the medallion. It was black and slick like the metal of the Bō. There were carved markings welded together on the surface, creating an intricate pattern of seven blooming oval circles. They met from the tip to the outer ring, forming this timeless, yet eternal design. This was the Amaranthine royal crest.
“It’s beautiful, but I can’t accept this,” Ava said, handing it back to him. “You should keep it safe for when you get engaged because, god knows, your future wife will need it. And what if it breaks? I can’t replace—”
He pushed it right back into her hands. “I’m more worried about you being safe, then this thing breaking.”
“Then what if the twins see this? Or Darious? You know, they’ll misunderstand.”
“I’m sure they’re already thinking the worst.”
He was right. Darious mentioned off to the side how she was the reason Marc rarely came home, which she didn’t agree with at all. Maybe she kept him here sometimes, but his own demons were forcing him to stay.
Marc heavily sighed and squeezed their hands close together. “I know you hate being protected, but just this once, let me protect you the only way I can.”
Ava pursed her lips. A part of her knew this was wrong. She shouldn’t accept this necklace when she didn’t deserve to wear such a priceless heirloom. She wasn’t family. They weren’t dating. But when she looked at him, she just couldn’t say no to those eyes—those Ama eyes.
They bloomed like red roses and feathers from a bluebird. Under the moonlight, the gold dust splashed across his eyes and twinkled like the starry night sky. They were like the cosmos, yet more spectacular than any real cosmos in the universe.
It was said that Ama kept their natural born eyes hidden for fear of having their souls snatched, but when she gazed into them, it felt like he had stolen hers. “One month. I’ll only wear this necklace for a month. After that, I’m giving it back.”
His fingers didn’t wait to brush through her hair and place the chain around her neck. A shiver ran through her as the cold disappeared beneath his warmth. She wanted to feel more of him—for him to touch her. Once the heavyweight dropped on her chest, his fingers remained on the edge of her neck, her cheeks, and eventually tangled in her hair.
Ava refused to look away from those cosmos-eyes. As the darkness shadowed them, he leaned in for one heart-stopping moment and placed his lips upon her forehead. She closed her eyes and imagined those lips being pressed against hers.
There was a sharp gasp.
Her eyes flew open. One of the twins stared at them from across the garden, between the floating sunlight and winter flowers. There was no mistaking his hurt expression. He ran away before she could figure out who it was.
“One of the twins just saw us,” she said. Marc squeezed her tighter and pressed his face into her hair. “Marc, this is serious.”
“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,” he whispered. “I’ll go talk to them.”
He pulled away. The warmth of his body was too quickly replaced by the fall breeze, but he needed to go. It’d hurt worse to have him yanked from her, instead.
“By the way, we’re going shopping tomorrow.” He walked across the gravel pathway, between the flower beds. The smooth stones squeaked beneath his boots.
Ava crossed her arms. “You’re kidding. I thought we’d at least train.”
“This is training,” he said before disappearing back into the shadows, leaving her alone with thoughts and daydreams of that kiss—a kiss that she’d never forget.