Chapter Text
The sun slowly rose above the trees, filling the sky with light. The birds were singing, but otherwise, the world was quiet. Cleo shivered, alone in bed, staring up at the ceiling but barely seeing. Usually, Pearl would be cuddled up to them, warm and soft, but her side of the bed was horribly empty and cold.
The whole castle seemed to echo every tiny sound. The Earth was freezing and Cleo had been shattered into a thousand little shards. The yelling was still echoing around in their head, reverberating against their skull over and over until everything blurred into an incoherent scream.
It wasn’t fine. The world was over.
Cleo had always known Pearl to be a quiet cryer, almost silent, just trying to disappear when she was upset. But last night, she was loud. Angry. Sobbing and seething with the same breath. Yelling so loud but barely making sense, too upset to explain, too upset to talk, too upset to let Cleo get close enough to comfort her.
It was like Pearl had broken open and exploded out of nowhere. They had talked so sweetly together just a few hours before. What had happened? Cleo didn’t understand.
But they didn’t need to understand to know that they had fucked up.
Pearl had cried on the floor because of them. Wailing incoherently and hugging herself and tugging her little ears and clawing at her reddened face—all because of Cleo. All because of that wine. All because of them.
I don’t want it. I don’t want it. I- I don’ wan’ it! I don’t- I- please! No! I don’- I really don’t! I’m sorry, sowwy! No! I don’ wan’ i’!
…
Cleo didn’t know what they did, but they had fucked up.
~~~
They were never going to fall asleep. It was never gonna happen. Not with this guilt in their chest. Not without Pearl beside her.
Her feet swept up the dust on the floor boards. The hallway was haunted by blue shadows. A small part of them was worried to find Pearl still curled up on the kitchen floor, still angry, still crying, still broken open and bleeding.
The floor creaked below them suddenly, making the body hidden under a throw blanket on the couch jump up. Pearl stared at Cleo from across the room, body tense and frozen. She looked like she hadn’t slept all night, still in the same clothes as yesterday, fur ruffled and messy, unbrushed.
Cleo flinched at the fear in her eyes, that look of terror, awfully familiar directed at them. Pearl had never looked at her like that, with true visceral fear. The air grew thick and sharp, the silence between them lasting way too long.
“... Sorry!” Cleo squeaked quietly, awkwardly slipping away into the kitchen in a second just to get away from those eyes.
They let out a heavy breath once they were out of sight, sounding a bit like a sob. She felt shaky, broken, dying. Pearl’s tear-stained face looking at her’s, eyes wet and body stiff—that image was unforgettable, terrifying. Because of them.
They wanted to hug her, hold her, let her cry into their chest until the ache and fear subsided; but this time was different. Last night had been different. Pearl didn’t want their comfort, not even their presence. Her fear was directed at Cleo.
How could they fix this? The ghost of their heart was panicking and Cleo couldn’t lose her. Not Pearl. Not the one person she truly had left after everything. Her only fledgling. Her puppy. If Pearl left, what would they be but a walking ghost, alone and cold in this endless world of loss?
Cleo entered the pantry and fumbled for the cured meat, grabbing Pearl’s favorite. If they couldn’t hold her until the sun set, brush her hair, fix up all the damage from last night, then they could at least feed her. At the very least, she won’t be hungry.
They dribbled blood on the meat and watched it soak through. Pearl always liked her food with blood, it added flavor. She also liked her food warm, just a little, the slightest smokiness to it but not cooked any more than rare. So Cleo lit the furnace and waited for the coals to get hot. The little flames between the rocks made them flinch, made them almost regret this, but then they remembered those tears and kept going.
While the food sat in the heat, Cleo cleaned up. The glasses of wine were still left out from last night, same with the bottles, and the dishes from dinner. Pearl had cooked, she made a wonderful lamb dinner, and Cleo agreed to clean up after, but then… she pulled out those bottles.
Cleo had to fix this.
~~~
The living room was silent. Pearl hadn’t moved since Cleo had left, still wrapped in the same throw blanket. Oscar had moved to rest beside her, purring against her leg. Both of them stared at Cleo when she entered, like maybe her presence created a tension in the air. They approached cautiously, hesitating to get too close.
Cleo gently placed the warm plate and bottle of blood on the coffee table in front of the couch before taking a seat on the plush chair in the corner. They didn’t really know how to position themself to appear the least intimidating. It was strange treating Pearl like a frightened animal—usually it was Cleo as the scared one, shaking if anyone got too close. That type of fear looked wrong on Pearl.
“I’m sorry.” Cleo’s voice was a little wobbly, nervous. She couldn’t settle. It was like she was waiting for something—something that they couldn’t quite identify—and until then, they couldn’t relax.
Pearl kept glancing between the food and Cleo like it didn’t make any sense that they would cook her breakfast. Cleo grew a little worried that Pearl might refuse it and just let herself go hungry, or maybe she didn’t trust it; but luckily, Pearl reached out a shaky hand and took the bottle of blood.
She sipped it slowly and seemed to calm down as she drank. She emptied the bottle then ate like the taste of blood had made her remember that she was starving. Cleo just watched, hoping that maybe if Pearl felt brave enough to eat around them that the world wasn’t over after all.
Pearl licked her plate clean then just… waited. The room filled with silence, awkward terrifying silence.
“... I- I-... I didn’t know that it would scare you that bad. I- I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.” Cleo started. She couldn’t look Pearl in the eye. Their guilt was too much.
Pearl waited a moment to talk, shifting her legs with a nervousness that didn’t fit her.
“I’m… I… I…”
She couldn’t get the words out, even as she tried again and again. It was like it was too much, too huge and sharp to fit through her throat and make it out in one whole piece.
“I-...”
She was stuck.
She had no more blood to drink and she could feel the tears brewing in her eyes. She couldn’t.
“…”
“You can write it down if you can’t… talk.” Cleo’s voice breached the solid air between them. Pearl looked up at them and saw the shakiness in them too. Everything felt awkward and wrong, even moving, even existing; but at least Cleo was here. “I- I can go grab some paper from my office and you can write on it…”
Pearl felt frozen, but somehow she managed a nod. Cleo carefully got up and left the room, soon coming back with a pen and a small stack of paper. She set in on the coffee table and went back to their chair, patiently waiting for Pearl to start.
Pearl hesitated. It was like her soul wouldn't let her move. But eventually, she picked up the pen and tried.
It took a lot not to cry. It took too much. That’s why the page was wet, the ink smeared where her tears landed. Words were hard. The page ripped a couple times—sometimes by accident, mostly on purpose… Pearl was angry, she couldn’t help it; either way, the floor had proof of all her failed attempts littered across it.
Every time Pearl had to pause to calm herself down, she would stare across the room and wish Cleo would come over and hug her. But Cleo stayed put and silent and Pearl was left to comfort herself. Maybe it’s because every time they got up, she’d flinch like she got hit and cry harder. Maybe Cleo was just cruel.
Pearl was shivering by the time she set the pen down and slid the paper closer to Cleo so she could take it.
Cleo hesitated. “... It’s finished? You’re- You’re finished?” Once Pearl nodded, they slowly took it and cautiously read.
Pearl stayed still on the couch, hugging her knees and waiting for their response. It felt so scary to be this open, exposing her wound to someone else. They could stab deeper into it, or they could help patch it up, but either way Pearl’s blood would get on their hands.
Maybe Cleo would get grossed out. Maybe they’d think Pearl was ruined. Maybe they’d think she was a monster for what she had to do. Maybe this would be the last time they would see each other and it was all because of one bad night…
Pearl pet Oscar to distract herself. He was warm and sweet and would never know about the blood on her hands. So innocent and cute. Pearl wished she could be a cat so she never would have had to do it.
…
Cleo was crying…
Pearl looked over and saw their face red and wet. They were crying. She was wiping her eyes and holding back sobs… And they hadn’t even flipped the page yet.
She peeked up at Pearl and for a moment they shared eye contact. In the dimness of the living room, the morning sun barely coming through the thick blinds, Pearl still knew that Cleo was looking right at her soul; the raw and bloodied one that she had never let anyone know of until now.
Pearl looked away in an instant. Those wet red eyes staring at her’s, with all those emotions, with all that knowledge, with all those tears—it broke her open again; it stabbed the wound. She covered herself with the blanket and shook, trying not to let Cleo hear anything. Every salty drop that fell from her chin seemed to echo and Pearl just wanted to hide. Maybe just disappear entirely.
Everything felt like too much. Or maybe it just felt like Pearl was too much?
Guilty of yelling. Guilty of being scared. Guilty of crying at her own wedding at twelve years old, surrounded by the smell of alcohol. Guilty.
Guilty… Rotten soul.
…
Hic-
…
Hic-
“P-Pearl?”
She said she only killed monsters—He was a monster! She did what she had to!
“Puppy?”
Pearl froze. Slowly, she took the blanket off her head, waiting for Cleo to hate her. But instead, all she got was another sight of their tearful eyes looking at her with the most heartbroken expression the world could create. Pearl didn’t know it was possible to look that devastated.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so, so… so~ sorry.”
…
Why did Cleo have to say that?! That hurt worse! Worse than a broken leg or a wine bottle to the skull. Worse than being knocked out cold or left bruised in the freezing rain.
It spawned a sudden ache in her chest like her heart had shattered and the shards were slicing everything inside of her. A thousand sobs trapped in her lungs and Pearl couldn’t get them out fast enough.
The wound was bleeding out.
“I’ll throw the bottles out. All of them. I won’t scare you like that again. I promise.”
Pearl was wiping her face with the blanket, trying to make the pain and tears go away. She was shaking. Usually someone would be yelling at her by now—Grow up! Act normal! Quit being a crybaby and just get used to it already! But Cleo wasn’t yelling; instead, her voice was quivering and soft like she was crying but still kind. Sweet. Warm like a long hug.
The puppy sniffled and peeked up from her blankie. “You pwomise?” Her voice was broken and hoarse and wobbly, but somehow Cleo understood. Their eyes gained a new ache to them that hurt even worse to look at.
“Of course, puppy. I promise.”
~~~
Water lapped at the sand as a breeze came through the dim forest. The sun had long since set and the fireflies were out, buzzing and dancing and creating twinkles in the dark. The puppy always felt calmer by the lake, so that had been their resting spot for the past few hours.
The evening wind swept down through the trees, ruffling the vampires’ hair. Pearl felt heavy, like her body had no energy left and her soul had been weathered down to dust. She still felt an anger deep in her throat that made her want to rip everything to shreds, but then Cleo would shush her with a slow pet and suddenly all she wanted was to be held.
The ache of a long day made Pearl want to stay in Cleo’s arms forever. She had missed the sound of their warped heartbeat and the feeling of their claws caressing her scalp the night before. It was like heaven. She never wanted the touch to leave.
“Puppy~,” Cleo cooed through a whisper, “We can’t sleep out here. We gotta go home.” Pearl whined against their chest, insisting on staying put. Cleo sighed, hugging Pearl a little tighter to place a soft kiss along her hairline. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”
The puppy wagged her tail and snuggled into her sire a little further. Her sire, here with her; and she was their fledgling, their puppy. The thought settled her heart a little further.
The wine was gone. Cleo had poured it all out in the grass and washed out the bottles to use for blood storage instead. The nightmare was over. They had kept their promise.
There was still a little fear, still a couple too many memories in the back of her mind, but Cleo could make it all better. A hundred little kisses and soft pets would make the pain go away, as it always did.
Pearl nuzzled against Cleo’s chest, relaxing with a sigh as they gently pet her head. It was okay. She was safe. Cleo was safe.
Maybe she wasn’t cursed after all?