Breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them, Freya finally spoke, her tone soft and marked by a hesitant vulnerability. “Why… why did you keep coming, Myra? Even when I… when I didn’t open the door?” Her gaze was fixed on the dark earth, as if she couldn’t quite meet Myra’s eyes.

  Myra turned slightly, her own gaze soft and understanding. She reached out a hand, hesitating for a moment before gently pcing it on Freya’s arm, over the warmth of her coat. “Because, Freya,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, “I made a promise. I said I’d be here. And more than that… I know you, or at least, I’m starting to. And I knew that silence didn’t mean you didn’t want to see me. It meant you needed time.” She squeezed her arm lightly. “I wasn’t going to give up on you.”

  Myra continued, her voice filled with sincerity, “And after everything that happened… after you woke up… I understood. You were scared, Freya. Scared of what happened, scared of what you almost did. And maybe… maybe even scared of me. It takes time to work through those kinds of feelings. I wasn’t going to force you. I just wanted you to know I was here, when you were ready.”

  Freya’s confession hung heavy in the night air, her voice barely a whisper, filled with a raw vulnerability that tugged at Myra’s heart. She finally lifted her gaze, her crimson eyes meeting Myra’s, and though shadowed by the darkness, Myra could see the depth of her fear. “It’s… it’s the truth, Myra,” Freya repeated, a painful honesty in her tone. “I am scared… of you.”

  Myra’s heart sank slightly at Freya’s words, but she held her gaze steady, her expression remaining gentle. The honesty, however painful, was a step forward. “Why, Freya?” she asked softly, her voice filled with a genuine desire to understand. “Why are you scared of me?”

  Freya looked down again, her fingers tracing patterns in the damp earth. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she finally spoke. “Because… because you are so pure, Myra. So full of light and… and life. And I… I am not. I am vampire, and… and there’s darkness within me. A hunger that… that almost…” She trailed off, unable to voice the terrifying memory of her near-attack. She finally looked up, her crimson eyes filled with a profound sadness. “I’m afraid… afraid that I will hurt you. That my darkness will… will consume your light.”

  Myra’s heart ached at Freya’s words, at the stark contrast between the beautiful soul she had come to know and the ancient fears that haunted her. She reached out again, gently taking Freya’s hand, her touch firm and reassuring. “Freya,” she said softly, her gaze unwavering, “your darkness doesn’t scare me. I’ve seen it, and yes, it was frightening. But I also saw the strength you had to fight it, the pain it caused you to almost lose control.” She squeezed Freya’s hand gently. “And your light, Freya… it shines just as brightly. The kindness you’ve shown me, the vulnerability you’ve shared… that’s not darkness. That’s something precious.”

  Myra offered a gentle smile, her eyes filled with understanding and a deep affection. “Thank you, Freya,” she said softly, her thumb gently stroking the back of Freya’s hand. “Thank you for being honest with me about how you feel. It takes courage to admit something like that, and I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me the truth.”

  Myra squeezed Freya’s hand gently. “And thank you, Freya, for not immediately building that wall between us. I know it’s your instinct, your way of protecting yourself, and maybe even protecting me, by pushing away. But tonight… tonight you didn’t. And that means more to me than you know.” Her gaze was earnest, her voice filled with conviction. “Love can be stronger than fear, Freya. We can face the darkness together. You won’t be alone with it anymore.” She repeated the words she had spoken before, a gentle reminder of the promise she had made, a promise she intended to keep.

  Freya’s grip tightened ever so slightly on Myra’s hand, her crimson eyes searching Myra’s with an intensity that held both hope and a deep-seated vulnerability. After a long moment of quiet contemption, she finally spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “Myra… do you… do you truly love me?” The question hung in the still night air, weighted with all the uncertainty and longing of her ancient heart.

  Myra’s heart swelled with a love that felt as vast and boundless as the starlit sky above them. She turned fully towards Freya, her free hand reaching up to gently cradle the vampire’s cheek, her gaze filled with an unwavering tenderness. “Freya,” she said, her voice soft but filled with a profound certainty, “My love for you knows no bounds, a feeling I never imagined could exist. ”She leaned closer, her forehead resting against Freya’s. “I love your strength, and yes, even your darkness. I love your vulnerability, the moments you let me see the real you. I love your sharp wit, your quiet kindness, and the way my heart aches when you’re not near. Yes, Freya,” she emphasized, her eyes meeting Freya’s with an unwavering intensity, “I truly, deeply love you.”

  Freya searched Myra’s eyes, peering into their depths, and what she saw there was a boundless sincerity, a love that shone with unwavering truth. A soft sigh escaped her lips, a release of the tension that had held her captive for so long. “I… I’m sorry, Myra,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I shouldn’t have doubted you. But… my own emotions have taken so much from me over the centuries. It’s hard to trust something so… so pure.”

  Myra gently squeezed Freya’s hand. “I understand, Freya,” she said softly. “Centuries of experience, the betrayals and the pain you’ve endured… it makes sense that you would be cautious, that trusting your heart again wouldn’t be easy. Don’t apologize for being honest about your feelings. What matters is that we’re talking now, that we’re being open with each other. We’ll take it one step at a time, at your pace. My love isn’t going anywhere.”

  Myra smiled gently, her gaze filled with warmth. “Loving someone, Freya,” she said softly, “it’s a wonderfully terrifying thing, isn’t it? And you… you showed me love in ways I never expected. I want to bring you joy, Freya. I want to be the reason you smile.” A hint of nervousness flickered in her eyes as she continued, “And… I should apologize. I told my grandmother about you… that I love you… and about the antique shop.”

  A shadow of regret crossed Myra’s face, her smile faltering. “And now… seeing you suffer, perhaps because of my openness… it hurts me deeply, Freya. I’m so sorry if telling my grandmother has caused you any pain or put you in any danger. Please, forgive me.” The words tumbled out, filled with genuine remorse and a fear that her actions might have further complicated Freya’s already burdened existence.

  Freya’s brow furrowed slightly, her initial surprise giving way to a thoughtful expression. She considered Myra’s words, the genuine worry etched on her face. After a moment, she reached out and gently pced Myra’s hand with both of hers. “Myra,” she said softly, her crimson eyes filled with a surprising tenderness, “there is no need for you to apologize. Your honesty with your grandmother… it speaks volumes of your heart. And while… while the knowledge of others knowing can bring its own challenges, your love… your openness… it is not something you should ever have to ask forgiveness for.”

  Relief washed over Myra at Freya’s understanding words. “Thank you, Freya,” she whispered, squeezing Freya’s hands gently. Taking a deep breath, she finally expined the reason for her absence after their st encounter in the antique shop. “ That night, when I got home… I was so confused, especially about how Gareth found out. I immediately asked my grandmother why she had spoken to Isa about you… about what I'd shared with her about the antique shop.”

  A wave of guilt washed over Myra as she continued, her voice heavy with regret. “She became very angry, Freya… and then she… she fainted. She’s been quite unwell since then, very frail. I couldn’t leave her in that condition. But it wasn’t just her, Freya. I’m also to bme. I never specifically told her not to tell anyone. I was so caught up in my own feelings…” Her voice trailed off, filled with remorse for the unintended consequences of her openness.

  Understanding dawned in Freya’s crimson eyes as Myra expined her absence. “So… that’s why,” she murmured, the pieces of the puzzle clicking into pce. The worry that had flickered in her heart during Myra’s silence began to subside, repced by a quiet empathy for the difficult situation Myra had faced.

  Myra nodded, her expression still tinged with guilt. “And… about Gareth…” she began, her voice hesitant. As she spoke his name, Freya’s gaze sharpened, her crimson eyes becoming more intense, all traces of weariness momentarily vanishing. A palpable tension filled the space between them, the comfortable intimacy of the past few moments giving way to a weighty anticipation.

  Silence stretched between them, the night air seeming to hold its breath. Freya’s unwavering gaze conveyed her unspoken need to know, the underlying unease that Myra had sensed since Gareth’s appearance in the vilge square. Myra, too, felt the importance of this moment, the need to finally address the lingering questions surrounding the persistent childhood friend.

  “Gareth… he’s been trying to pursue me,” Myra confessed, a slight frown creasing her brow. “He’s been quite persistent, actually. But Freya,” she hastened to add, her eyes meeting Freya’s with unwavering sincerity, “I’ve declined his advances. Repeatedly. There is nothing between us, Freya. He’s a childhood friend, nothing more.”

  As Myra spoke, her gaze held Freya’s, the moonlight catching the sincerity in her eyes, making them seem to twinkle with a light that mirrored the depth of her emotions. “Freya,” she continued, her voice filled with a quiet intensity, “my heart, my body, and my soul… they already belong to you. Every single part of me.”

  A soft smile touched Myra’s lips as she reached out and gently took Freya’s hand. “My mind is constantly occupied with thoughts of you, Freya. There simply isn’t any room for anyone else. You’ve filled every corner of my being.”

  Relief washed over Freya, evident in the soft sigh that escaped her lips. Her voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, her hand gently tightening around Myra’s. A genuine, precious smile flickered at the corners of her mouth. “I understand all of it now, Myra. And more than anything… thank you. Thank you for all of this.”

  Thank you for seeing past the monster I fear I am, Freya thought, her heart aching with a gratitude she couldn't fully express. Thank you for your unwavering faith, even when I gave you every reason to doubt. Thank you for your honesty, for your patience, and for the light you bring into my endless night. This fierce and untainted love… a light too pure for my shadowed soul, yet my very essence screams its desperation to possess it.