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There wasn’t really anything to do for Valentine after school. While his classmates, especially Draculaura, had forgiven him for what he had done, he still didn’t really feel like he belonged. Every time someone invited him to hang out after school he came up with some excuse why he couldn’t. The ever so slight judgement that still lingered in their eyes was simply not something he could ignore. It was as if they were closely watching him, making sure he wasn’t trying to steal anyone’s heart again.
Only recently had he found something he truly enjoyed. After he had worked at an animal shelter for some time he was pretty sure he wanted to continue to work with animals. There was something calming about them not caring what he did in the past, not judging him. They loved that he was there, going on walks with them, feeding them, caring for them. His love for animals was not only quite healing, it also helped him find more excuses not to meet his classmates.
Right now he was sitting on a bench in the park, watching Watzit rollicking about in the waning light. He had started to dogsit him for a few weeks now, after Frankie had confided to him that Watzit tended to shred her parents’ furniture every time she left him alone for too long. In order for Frankie to be able to go out with her ghoulfriends Valentine had offered to look after him. Watzit was actually quite well behaved. The only issue was that every time he got excited he let out a burst of electricity. And if Valentine happened to stand too closely to him… well, his hairstyle was ruined.
Valentine watched as Watzit started to excitedly dig underneath a huge tree. Maybe he could continue living like this until he graduated. He didn’t need to be friends with anyone, he just needed to get along with them. They were never going to forgive him anyways, even if they told him otherwise.
“I knew you weren’t busy!”
The sudden loud voice made him nearly jump out of his seat. Watzit stopped digging and looked at the owner of the loud voice.
With a dramatic huff Whisp flopped down next to him, way too close for his taste.
“You told me you had to clean the attic for your mother! Liar.”
Whisp put an arm around him and pulled him even closer.
“I have you known that I am indeed busy. I am watching Frankie’s dog,” Valentine said defensively, pointing at the dog wagging his tail at Whisp. She looked at him for a moment.
“That’s a dog? Are you sure?”
Valentine looked over at Watzit.
“Sure looks like a dog to me.”
Maybe he could distract her from the impending discussion about not being sociable.
“Anyway… you!” Whisp poked her long nail against his cheek. “Why are you here all alone? That’s the fifth time Draculaura invited you out to go to the coffin bean with the rest of them and it’s the fifth time you came up with some shit excuse to not come.”
Valentine tried to discreetly push Whisp to an acceptable distance.
“I cannot bring Watzit along with me to the coffin bean. And I’ve promised Frankie to watch over him a week ago.”
“Spelldon would’ve been there, you know.”
Whisp leaned back against the backrest of the bench and watched Valentine’s face closely with a devious grin. Valentine felt his ears burn and wondered how this was even possible, considering he was a vampire.
Whisp was probably the one exception when it came to his non-existent social circle. They got to know each other more on accident after he found her lamp, but he would be lying if he didn’t enjoy her company from time to time. Now however was no such time. He wondered if it would be rude to wish her away.
“That’s great to hear. I’m glad he was able to connect with the others so easily.”
“Dammit Val!” Whisp groaned and hit his shoulder. “Stop being like that! If they were able to forgive me for starting a cult in their school, they can forgive you for stealing hearts!”
Valentine let out a sigh and rubbed his shoulder.
“Sometimes I wonder if it is I who cannot forgive myself or the others.”
“Oh I can tell you right now it’s you,” Whisp said and glared at her friend. “Seriously, it’s been months! You could have had friends and a boyfriend by now, instead you sit here and act dramatic.”
“Please tell me I have a wish left so I can command you to be quiet,” he hissed.
“Nope,” Whisp said with a grin and draped herself all over her friend again. “And if you don’t finally make a move on Spelldon I swear I’ll haunt you for the rest of your lonely unlife.”
“Whisp…” Valentine huffed, bending over from the weight of his friend. Watzit excitedly licked his face, now that he could reach it.
“Urgh, please don’t shock me… Really I wish I did actually help my mother clean the attic,” Valentine lamented, trying to distract Watzit with ear scratches.
“You know the prom is in two weeks… how about you ask Spelldon out, hmm?” Whisp suggested, now also petting Watzit.
“I can’t do that. I would rather spend the rest of my unlife living without ever asking him out than trying and finding out that he hates me,” Valentine said quietly.
“If there’s any student at Monster High that doesn’t hate you, it’s him. He’s only been here for what… a little over a month?”
It was true, Spelldon had only transferred to Monster High recently. Valentine remembered the moment he first entered the school very vividly, because he had run into a locker when he first saw him. The way Spelldon managed to look so effordlessly cool, had no problem with making friends and all that while being smart and funny and beautiful had made Valentine envious at first. But it didn’t take long and that envy turned into longing. Spelldon was just so perfect and Valentine was so… not perfect. How could someone like Spelldon ever love him?
“Still… I don’t think he’d like me. I don’t seem like the type of person he could fall in love with.”
“You don’t know that,” Whisp retorted. “You have never even really talked to him.”
Valentine let out another dramatic sigh and put his head in his hands. The thought of getting rejected was scary. That would mean he wouldn’t just be the vampire who tried to steal the hearts of others, he was also the vampire who failed at acquiring someone’s heart the conventional way. But in reality he had nothing to lose. He was already at the bottom, a rejection couldn’t possibly harm his horrible reputation further.
“You know I might try just that,” he finally said and sat up. “What is there to lose?”
“That’s my boy!” Whisp grinned and put her arm around his shoulder.
Valentine sat down in his mad science class, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He had spent an extra half hour to make sure his hair sat perfectly. Though he couldn’t see his reflection, after over 1600 years he had become quite good at it.
He had a plan in his mind. Before lunch he would hurry to find Spelldon and then hopefully convince him to go sit with him in the creepateria. He had also prepared some topics to talk about. And if all of that failed maybe a grand firework spelling out his prom proposal to Spelldon in the night sky could convince him.
“Hi!” a voice to his right said.
“Good morning,” he replied absent-mindedly, checking his notebook for any steps in his plan he might have missed. He drummed his pen against the page, trying to calm his nerves.
“Oh, did we have homework?”
“Hmm?”
Finally Valentine looked up from his notes. Next to him, bathed in the dull light of the early morning, sat Spelldon, worryingly looking at his notebook.
“Wha… no!”
As fast as possible Valentine slammed his notebook shut and pushed all his things off the desk.
“No homework! Don’t worry!”
He leaned his head against his hand, hoping to look casual. Spelldon looked back and forth between him and the school supplies strewn all over the floor in front of them. A slightly confused smile appeared on his face.
“Okay, good to hear. Do you need help with that?” He pointed at the mess on the floor.
“Oh no, don’t worry. I will do that myself.”
Valentine got up, nearly knocking his chair over. His face burned with blood he didn’t even know he still had inside him. So much for his grand plan. Not even ten minutes inside the school and he already messed up. Why did Spelldon have to sit right next to him?
Lamenting over what could have been in his head he began gathering his books and pencils.
“Here,” Spelldon said with a smile and handed him a stack of his books. With a slightly shaking hand Valentine took them.
“Thank you,” he said, all of his suaveness gone. It used to be so much easier back when he had just been playing. He sat back down on his chair, his supplies neatly stacked in front of him. He was hyper-aware of Spelldon’s proximity. How he managed to look so good while doing nothing was beyond him.
“You’re Valentine, right?”
Valentine’s undead heart jumped upon hearing his name from Spelldon. How was it possible to be so down bad for someone you had barely spoken to?
“I am,” Valentine nodded and remembered his manners. He gave a little bow with his head. “And with whom do I have the honour?”
He would never admit he was familiar with Spelldon’s first and last name. After all he had to test how his name sounded with his last name.
Spelldon let out a little chuckle and stretched out his hand.
“I’m Spelldon.”
Slowly Valentine took the offered hand, feeling Spelldon’s warm skin against his cool one.
“A pleasure meeting you,” he said, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.
Spelldon’s smile widened. Before he could say anything else though Mr. Hackington’s rough voice echoed through the classroom.
“Alright class,” he huffed and tapped his meat cleaver against his palm. “Your task is to create a new potion. I don’t care what it is. There’s just one rule to it: it has to have some magical properties. If one of ya tries to hand in three-eyed frog puree again, you not only fail this class, but ya’ll get detention for a whole year! Work with your seat neighbour. Deadline is today in one week. Go!”
He slammed the meat cleaver into his desk and Valentine instinctively leaned a little further back in his seat.
“Well, guess we’re lab partners,” Spelldon said and turned to Valentine with a smile. Valentine’s flourishing feelings for him were suddenly overshadowed by the realization that he sucked at mad science.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not looking at Spelldon, “I’m rather bad at mad science. I fear I won’t be of much help.”
“In that case you’re lucky you’ve been paired up with me. I’m quite good at potions.”
A flash of light flickered around the sorcerer’s right hand. Valentine looked up.
“Really?”
Spelldon nodded.
“I actually love practicing pharmakeia… so I do have a bit of experience. The question is what exactly to create?”
“Pharmakeia?” Valentine repeated. “That sounds really fascinating. So you create potions in your free time?”
“Yeah, sometimes,” Spelldon said, suddenly seeming a little sheepish. “It’s not like they are anything special, but I guess they would work for Mr. Hackington’s class.”
Valentine looked at him with a dreamy expression. How was this boy becoming more and more wonderful by the minute? He rested his head in his hand.
“What do you create? And how? Could you show me?”
Spelldon looked at him, his purple eyes sparkling with something.
“You know, you could come over and we could work on this potion at my house.”
At his house? Valentine awoke from his admiration and fell back into reality. He couldn’t possibly go to his house. All the stupid things he might say! He had plans of going on a date, yes, but things were moving too fast. What came next, meeting his parents?
“Valentine?” Spelldon asked and leaned in a little, looking at him.
“Huh?” Valentine’s cheeks burned. “I… Yes, that is an amazing idea! I think having you as a lab partner might possibly save my grade.”
Spelldon chuckled.
“Hey, I’m not going to do the whole work, you know?”
“Oh no, that was not what I was insinuating!” Valentine raised his hands in defence, his Southern accent stronger than ever. “Of course I shall do my part!”
Spelldon grinned and grabbed a pencil.
“Alright, then let’s brainstorm. What could this potion be about? I’d love something practical… you know, something that could be of use to a lot of monsters.”
Valentine tried to calm his racing thoughts to be at least somewhat productive. He thought for a moment, wondering what kind of potion could be useful. His mind wandered to his seemingly never-ending nightmares he had every single night, because of his past. He couldn’t possibly tell Spelldon about them though.
“How about…” he started slowly, “a potion that gives monsters sweet dreams?”
Spelldon fell silent for a moment, looking at Valentine with a thoughtful expression. He drummed his pencil against his notebook and hummed.
“Yeah… that sounds good…”
He began to quickly scribble something Valentine couldn’t decipher. Finally something that wasn’t perfect about him – his handwriting. Then he pulled a thick red book out of his bag and started going through its table of contents. Valentine leaned over a little to see what the book was about.
“Hmm,” Spelldon hummed in thought. “Okay, getting some lavender should be easy, I think I can get some from our garden… but where do I get…”
Valentine took a peek at the page Spelldon was looking at, but he suddenly realized he couldn’t read the language. He fell back into his chair.
“Is there anything else I can help with?” he asked after a while. Spelldon seemed to be in the zone.
“Right now we can’t do much… But I’ll prepare everything we need and then you can help me brewing it.”
Valentine nodded, feeling rather useless. The bell ended his suffering. Slowly he gathered his things, not really sure where to go from here. Should he ask Spelldon when to meet up?
“Would you like to eat lunch together later?” Spelldon asked as he was about to leave. Valentine looked up at his now smiling face. Was this it? Was his plan actually still coming to fruition?
“Of course! I would love to.”
Spelldon’s smile widened into a grin.
“Cool, I’ll pick you up at your locker then.”
With a wave he left the classroom. Valentine watched him leave. Way too late he suddenly realized: “How do you know where my locker is?”
Valentine looked intently at Spelldon’s profile. That bastard looked good even with safety goggles on. He was in the middle of adding a few drops of who knew what into a flask. The liquid inside turned a milky white. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to grind up the lavender.
“Is that good?” he asked.
“I think so,” Spelldon nodded. He turned his head to look at him. “Don’t you trust me?” he asked with a grin.
“I do,” he said way too fast. “I just don’t understand any of this.”
“It’s actually not that complicated. More a matter of trial and error. After a while you know what you can or cannot mix. I guess only the magic part could be considered complicated… if you don’t possess magic.”
Spelldon set down the flask and pushed his safety goggles up.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked and took the mortar from Valentine’s hand. The sudden warmth sent a pleasant shiver down his spine.
“Of course.”
“How did you come up with this idea?”
Spelldon’s hand lingered just a second too long. Valentine missed his warmth as soon as it was gone. He watched as Spelldon started to grind up the lavender himself. He couldn’t possible tell him the reason. He had to stay as vaguely as possible.
“I had this idea, because… I tend to have nightmares. And I thought… it would be nice to maybe get some relief. That way we could also see if the potion works.”
That was more honest than he had ever been. His right hand played absentmindedly with an empty pipette.
“Nightmares, huh…” Spelldon looked over at him while continuing to grind the lavender into a fine powder. “Then I hope this will work.”
Valentine continued to follow Spelldon’s hands with his eyes. They were pretty. They were slightly bigger than Valentine’s, with long fingers and purple painted nails. And warm, they were so warm. Valentine hadn’t felt this warmth in centuries. He just wished he could hold them.
“Here,” Spelldon suddenly said, holding a beaker with a pale pink liquid out for him.
“Done already?” Valentine asked surprised, waking up from his daydreams.
Spelldon grinned his insufferably beautiful grin.
“Time flies when you’re dozing.”
Once more Valentine felt his face burn.
“I really didn’t mean to…! I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
“You’ll be helping me a lot by telling me if this works or not.”
He gave the liquid inside the beaker a little sway. The liquid had a beautiful marble pattern, glittering in the light.
“Do you trust me?” Spelldon asked once more.
Valentine took the beaker from his hand, purposefully brushing his fingers against his warm skin.
“I do,” he said quietly and took a sip. The liquid tasted faintly like mint. For some reason Valentine expected something to happen immediately, but he felt just the same. He handed the beaker with the rest of the liquid back to Spelldon. Tipping back his head he emptied it.
“And now…” he looked at the empty beaker in his hand, “we wait.”
“At least we didn’t turn into toads,” Valentine shrugged.
Spelldon laughed.
“Don’t worry, you’d probably be the prettiest toad in the pond.”
“I doubt I would be able to compete with you,” Valentine sighed and leaned against the table, feeling some of his old suaveness coming back to him.
“I don’t think I’d look good as a toad,” Spelldon laughed.
“I can guarantee you, if both of us were toads I’d still think you were attractive,” Valentine smiled.
Spelldon looked at him for a moment, his grin softening into a smile.
“You have…” he started and reached out his hand towards Valentines face, swiping his thumb over his cheek.
“Had some mint powder on you,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you grind up herbs anymore. Although you look good in those goggles.”
Valentine wished Spelldon would just cup his face in his hands and never let go.
Valentine watched Watzit once more running over the lawn of his favourite park while he sat in the shadow of an old oak. He looked down at his phone, reading his conversation with Whisp again. She had urged him to tell her how his plan had gone. When he told her they had met up to create the potion she had a minor freak-out. Had she been next to him she would have grabbed him by the shoulders and shaken him until he got dizzy. According to her his ‘date’ had gone very well. Just that it hadn’t been a date. They had just met to do their assignment.
He let himself fall back into the soft, cool grass underneath him, staring up into the canopy of the oak.
“Hey.”
He looked up to see Spelldon sit down next to him on the grass. In the light of the dawn he seemed to glow.
“Hi,” he said, his mouth feeling dry. “How come you are here?”
Spelldon shrugged and lay down next to him.
“I like to come here too from time to time. It’s nice here.”
“It is,” Valentine agreed.
For a moment they just lay in silence. Then he felt Spelldon slip his hand into his’. He held it close, cherishing the warmth it brought. If it was up to him they could stay like this forever. Slowly Spelldon rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand.
“How are you doing?” Spelldon asked quietly.
“I’m good,” Valentine replied, not quite sure what else to say.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve changed, you know. You’re not the person that you used to be.”
Confused Valentine turned his head to look into Spelldon’s dark, purple eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Your past. I know you’re still holding onto it.”
Spelldon squeezed his hand gently.
“You have to let go. You’re missing out on so much by clinging to it.”
“How can you know that? How do you know I can change?”
“You have already.”
Spelldon took Valentine’s hand and pulled it closer to him, playing with his long, slender fingers.
“I’ve seen the way you treat the animals around you. You are so gentle with them. You should see the way you smile when you play with them. But you are so afraid of letting yourself be loved by another monster, it makes you run away from everyone. And I wish that you could see that others have forgiven you and would love to be around you.”
Valentine felt tears burning in the corners of his eyes. Spelldon wasn’t wrong, he was running away from everyone. It reminded him of what Whisp had told him. Maybe… maybe he should really try to open up a little more to others.
Valentine pulled his hand out of Spelldon’s grip. Before he could protest Valentine put it against his cheek, his fingertips grazing his soft skin. Spelldon smiled and took it in his’ once more, guiding it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss against his knuckles.
“Please don’t let go,” Valentine whispered.
“I won’t.”
Valentine woke up. For a moment he just stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. He could have sworn he could feel the warmth of Spelldon’s hands on his skin still. He couldn’t think of the last time he had been made aware of his undead heart and its’ attempt to beat as fast as it could.
One thing was for sure. Spelldon’s potion had worked.
Valentine rested his back against his locker, only marginally aware of the monsters passing by and greeting him. He was too deep in thought. How was he supposed to look at Spelldon without thinking of his hand against his lips ever again?
“Valentine!”
The high-pitched voice calling his name finally pulled him out of his thoughts. Draculaura stood in front of him with a bright smile, clasping her hands together.
“How are you doing? We haven’t talked in so long! You’ve been so busy lately, I wish you could take a break!”
“Hello Draculaura,” he said with a bow of his head. Draculaura had been the first to forgive him, but still he felt awkward around her. He had led her on for so long. “I might be able to make some time today, if you would be interested.”
Draculaura clapped her hands together.
“Oh I would love if you could go out with us today! The coffin bean has a new blood orange cookie I’m sure you’d love.”
He looked at her hopeful eyes and thought back to his dream.
“Of course. I’d love to accompany you.”
Maybe one day his Southern accent would go away.
“Yes! We’ll all meet at the gates after school! I’m so happy you can finally come along!”
She quickly hugged him and cheerfully walked over to her locker. Valentine hoped this hadn’t been a bad idea. He opened his locker and grabbed his book for dead languages. Not his favourite subject, but at least better than mad science.
He hurried along, not wanting to be late. After all he had to get a seat in the last row.
Valentine sat down in his favourite seat, far away from the window. Although the weather around here was generally gloomy, he’d rather stay out of any kind of natural light. Slowly his classmates trickled into the room, their hushed conversations comfortable white noise to him. Suddenly his eyes caught Spelldon entering the room. Spelldon looked up, winking at him before sitting down two rows in front of him. For the rest of the class Valentine was distracted by the design shaved into the back of Spelldon’s hair. He followed its lines with his eyes over and over again until he had memorized it. How did he look attractive even from the back? He was so distracted, he didn’t even notice the bell ending the class. Suddenly everything around him was quiet.
“Do you have any questions, Mr. Valentine?” Mr. Rotter asked, while packing his bag.
Valentine cringed at ‘Mr. Valentine’.
“Uh, oh, yes, actually,” Valentine quickly said and got out of his chair. “Could you maybe explain the differences between the two r’s in zombie?”
“Ah, I see,” Mr. Rotter nodded. “Understandable. The difference is quite subtle, but it is crucial that you students know it. It could make the difference between a ‘How are you?’ and ‘You look like a dried up toad’.”
Valentine regretted having asked. Mr. Rotter launched into an extensive explanation he didn’t understand because he didn’t listen. Only the bell announcing his next class saved him.
The rest of the day was more or less a blur. He vaguely remembered sitting at a table with Draculaura and her friends during lunch until all of them had to leave, because Operetta sneezed and shattered all the windows.
“I told ya not to use ya damn pollen!” he heard her shout at Venus.
All in all the day was pretty uneventful. When it was time to meet at the gates he nervously fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. Running a hand through his hair he hoped he didn’t look too frazzled. But when he saw how many monsters were waiting at the gates he nearly turned around to hide in the bathroom until they left.
Draculaura, Clawdeen, Frankie, Lagoona, Cleo and Ghoulia stood by the gates, including their partners. A few feet away stood Robecca, Operetta, Venus and Rochelle, Operetta seemingly still angry at her friend. For some reason Spelldon was with them as well.
“Valentine!” Draculaura shouted and waved at him. Too late to turn back now. Slowly he walked over to them, feeling nothing but awkward.
“Hello everyone,” he greeted everyone.
“Alright, everyone here? Then let’s go, before all the good seats are taken,” Clawdeen said and hurried ahead.
Valentine trotted along, feeling very out of place.
“Hey,” Spelldon greeted him and took his hand as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “How are you?”
“I’m doing quite alright, thank you,” he replied, his Southern accent stronger than ever.
“Aww, he’s so formal!” Operetta nearly cooed. “Ya didn’t tell us your boyfriend is such a gentleman, Spell.”
Valentine’s ears burned. Robecca ribbed her girlfriend, but it didn’t wipe the grin from her face. Now he knew why he had kept his distance from the phantom.
“He isn’t… can you shut up?” Spelldon said, sounding unusually annoyed.
“Thought I help you, ya know,” she said with a shrug.
“You’re one to talk,” Venus huffed. “It took you, like, forever to finally get together with Robecca.”
“You don’t get to talk! You’re the reason the creepateria’s windows are broken! Again!”
“What does this have to do with anything? Besides, you sneezed! Not me!”
“It was your fault!”
“I am sorry,” Robecca said, looking at Valentine and Spelldon. “Usually they are really nice.”
Spelldon shook his head with a quiet chuckle.
“Don’t worry, I’m used to Operetta’s antics. She has been friends with my sister for who knows how long. I got the ‘little brother’ treatment for years. We’re cool.”
Robecca nodded, then turned her attention to Valentine.
“She comes off as a little brash sometimes, but trust me, she’s a sweetheart.”
Valentine only nodded. Whatever mean streak Operetta might have about her, it surely was nothing compared to what he did in his past.
The walk didn’t take too long and Valentine was almost sad, because it meant that Spelldon let go of his hand. He sat perched between Spelldon and Rochelle, one of the new cookies Draculaura had recommended to him and a glass blood soda in front of him. The conversations around him were in full swing and he wasn’t really sure how to join. So instead he slowly sipped his soda and listened.
“…but in the end it all worked out. That’s why ya always gotta have some replacement string for your guitar with ya,” Operetta said.
“Will you go on tour again?” Rochelle asked, taking a bite of her scone.
“I don’t know yet…” Operetta stirred her milkshake with a straw, glancing over at Robecca. “Casta and I have thought about maybe goin’ on a mini-tour durin’ the summer howlidays, but…”
“Don’t let me stand in the way,” Robecca quickly said.
Operetta shook her head.
“That’s not it. It’s just that I thought maybe we two could go on a little trip to my hometown…”
“How does the cookie taste?” Spelldon asked him.
“Hmm?” Valentine looked up. “Uh… it’s good.”
“It looks like you haven’t even taken a bite yet.”
Valentine looked down at his plate with the untouched cookie on it.
“Oh.”
Before Valentine could take the cookie Spelldon grabbed it and took a bite. Valentine watched as he slowly chewed, scrunching up his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” he said, once he swallowed his bite, “I don’t like blood orange.”
He held the cookie out for Valentine.
“Here. Your turn.”
Valentine took the cookie, but Spelldon didn’t let go. Confused Valentine looked at him, seeing his signature grin spread across his face. Valentine let go of the sweet and Spelldon held it up to his mouth. He narrowed his eyes, looking at the grinning sorcerer in front of him.
“Come on. Take a bite,” he said.
Alright, Valentine thought. If he wanted it that way.
He took a bite from the offered cookie. It didn’t taste as sour as he had expected.
“Hmm,” he hummed. “Not bad, actually.”
“More?” Spelldon asked and held the cookie closer to his face.
“If you don’t let go of the cookie right now I’ll bite your hand,” Valentine said, his smile showing off his thin, sharp fangs.
Spelldon paused for a while, as if he was seriously contemplating getting bitten by him. With a shrug he put the cookie back on the plate.
“Maybe somewhere more private,” he said, causing Valentine to glare at him.
“And you get offended when Robecca and I hold hands in public!” Operetta suddenly said, pointing at the two and looking accusatory at Venus.
“I don’t! I get offended when we go somewhere as a group of friends and you two treat it as a date!”
Spelldon let out a quiet chuckle and took Valentines hand under the table. While munching on his cookie Valentine wondered how Spelldon managed to make everything feel so natural.
When the group left the coffin bean it was already dark outside. Valentine stretched his shoulders a litte, thankful for leaving the crowded café. One after the other they said goodbye, everyone leaving in various directions to go home.
“Which way do you have to go?” Spelldon asked quietly, leaning in close to his ear. “I’ll walk you home if you’d like.”
“You’re such a gentleman,” Valentine said, lowering his voice, hoping to sound somewhat flirtatious. He slipped his hand into Spelldon’s once more. “But it’s quite a bit to walk.”
“I don’t mind.”
Slowly they started to walk towards Valentine’s house in the dark, hands intertwined. As they walked in silence the dark thoughts started to creep up on him again. If Spelldon knew about his past, would he still hold his hand and walk him home? Would he even talk to him? And if… if something between them were to happen… One day he would have to tell him about his past. Would he break up with him then?
“How was last night? Did you still have nightmares?” Spelldon asked.
“Oh! No, I didn’t. Your potion worked perfectly.”
Spelldon nodded, which Valentine couldn’t see in the dark.
“That’s good to hear. I hope that means you had a good night’s rest?”
“I did.”
Another moment of silence followed.
“Can I ask you a question?” Spelldon asked.
“Sure.”
“Everyone calls you by your last name… Can I ask why?”
Valentine thought back to his life as a human. He couldn’t remember a lot, it had been too long. He lived in Ireland, that much he could remember. How could he not, his first name would always remind him of it.
“It comes from the Irish name Ciarán and means ‘little dark one’. I… don’t like it very much. That’s why I prefer if people call me Valentine.”
Spelldon hummed in thought.
“It’s long though. How about ‘Val’?”
“So you don’t like the name?”
“No, I like your name. I’m just lazy. Also I think ‘Val’ is cute, just like you.”
“Dammit,” Valentine mumbled under his breath. Apparently still too loud, because Spelldon burst out laughing.
It was odd how fast he got along with Spelldon. He wasn’t usually someone to make friends quickly. It hurt even more knowing that whatever he had with Spelldon could very well be destroyed in seconds once he found out about his past.
Valentine almost felt like talking about it, just so it would be over. He didn’t want to have his relationship with Spelldon advance only for it to end abruptly. But just when he had finally made up his mind his house came into view.
“Well, here we are,” Valentine said.
“Too bad,” Spelldon said what Valentine thought. “But at least I’ll see you tomorrow at school?”
“You certainly will,” Valentine said, lamenting the fact Spelldon couldn’t see his face. He had been told that the fluttering of his eyelashes was quite charming.
Slowly Spelldon lifted Valentine’s hand he was still holding up to his lips and pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. For a moment Valentine felt his already non-existent breathing stop and he was reminded of the dream he had. He wondered what Spelldon had dreamed of. After all he had taken a sip of the potion as well.
“Sweet dreams, Val,” Spelldon said quietly and let go of his hand.
“Goodnight, Spelldon,” Valentine whispered, watching as Spelldon vanished into the dark.
This time Valentine was aware it was a dream. Not quite a lucid dream, but he knew that this wasn’t reality. He was somewhere, in a place that vaguely reminded him of the garden in front of Spelldon’s house. He sat on his lap, head resting against his shoulder. Although it was bright outside, the sun didn’t burn him. For the first time since he had been turned he was able to feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. Spelldon ran a hand through his hair and Valentine closed his eyes.
“What are you afraid of?” Spelldon asked in a hushed voice, never stopping caressing his head.
“That you’ll leave me. Never before have I felt so connected with someone before and I don’t want to lose you,” he said quietly.
“What makes you think I’ll leave you?”
“Everyone has.”
“You are not alone Val,” Spelldon whispered. “They’re all there for you. If you just let them.”
“But it’s not that easy.”
“You can do it. I know you can.”
Valentine lifted his head to look at Spelldon. In the sunlight his dark hair glowed purple. He raised his hand to run his fingers along his jawline.
“Do me a favour?” he whispered.
Spelldon looked at him through his long eyelashes.
“Kiss me?” Valentine asked, his voice quieter than a whisper.
Slowly Spelldon bowed his head down. When his lips met Valentine’s, even though he knew it was just a dream, he could’ve sworn this was what it would feel like in reality. They were surprisingly soft and a bit hesitant. Valentine put his hand on the nape of Spelldon’s neck to pull him closer. Any second he could wake up. But one day he had to tell Spelldon about his past and if this meant he would never talk to him again he at least had an idea of what it would feel like to kiss him.
When Valentine woke up and stared at his ceiling he could still feel his lips tingle. He touched them with the tip of his index finger and he could have sworn they were warm.
A week passed and every single day he felt like he was getting closer to Spelldon. His accent barely slipped out anymore. He was so at ease every time he was with him, he couldn’t think of the last time he had been so relaxed. And yet the thought of having to tell Spelldon about his past still lingered in the back of his mind.
He lay on his stomach on his bed, trying to focus on his homework when his phone pinged. He picked it up to see a text from Whisp.
Have you asked him to the prom yet?
Valentine sighed and let his head drop into the book in front of him. No, he had not. He hadn’t even talked to Spelldon about the prom. For all he knew Spelldon didn’t even know there was a prom in the first place. And he knew he had to come clean with him before the prom.
No, I haven’t.
He put his phone away, knowing Whisp would answer in seconds, but he wasn’t ready for a lecture. Instead of a text notification his phone started ringing. With another heavy sigh he picked up.
“Whisp,” was all he was able to say before he got interrupted.
“Do I need to come over?” Whisp asked. “Come on now, gay boy. How much longer do you want to wait? I can feel your yearning through the phone. You are so damn dramatic!”
Valentine put his phone on speaker and turned over on his back so he could stare at the ceiling.
“If you don’t settle this in the next two days I’ll subject you to a three-way-call. And trust me, you don’t want that!”
“How am I even supposed to start such a conversation?” he asked exasperated.
“I thought you two were getting along? Just… tell him!”
He could practically see Whisp waving her arms around. For a moment there was silence. He could hear some clinking on Whisp’s end as if she was cleaning dishes.
“I love you Whisp,” he said.
“I love you too, my little disaster. Don’t try to distract me.”
“I hoped that it would work.”
“It didn’t.”
“Okay listen… I’ll tell him tomorrow after school. And I’ll report back to you right after, deal?”
“Deal,” Whisp said with a finality that let Valentine know if he didn’t keep his promise nothing would stop her from teleporting right to his room to lecture him.
“I already picked out a suit for you.”
“Whatever you picked out, I’m not wearing it,” Valentine said quickly.
“I have amazing fashion sense, idiot!”
“Whatever you say, dear. Just know that after over a thousand years I know how to dress myself.”
“I beg to differ.”
Nervously Valentine paced along the outside of the school’s greenhouses. He had asked Spelldon to meet him here after he was done with his after-school activities. Through the windows Valentine could see Spelldon and Venus work alongside on some plant he didn’t know the name of. As always when he got nervous he tried to make a list with all the points he had to mention and possible phrasing of the more uncomfortable parts of his story.
He watched as Spelldon put his utensils away. Out of habit he drew in a breath. Spelldon waved goodbye to Venus and walked straight over to where Valentine was standing in the shade of a tree.
“Hey,” Spelldon said and pulled him into a hug. Valentine grabbed the back of Spelldon’s jacket, afraid this might be the last time he would hug him.
“I have something to tell you,” he mumbled into his shoulder.
“Okay… go ahead,” Spelldon said, confusion evident in his voice.
Valentine still clung to him. Maybe it was easier if he couldn’t see Spelldon’s face.
“So… Am I correct in my assumption that there might be some romantic feelings between us?”
“That is quite possibly the most unromantic way of saying that,” Spelldon mumbled.
“If so then there’s something very important I have to tell you.”
Valentine decided to just stay like this with his face resting against Spelldon’s shoulder. He prepared himself mentally for what he was about to say next.
“I’m an emotional vampire, which means I get stronger from other people’s emotions… I can also manipulate their feelings… and when I was younger I used these powers to… to break the hearts of ghouls… because it made me stronger and that was all I wanted. But now I’ve learned that… that those forced emotions do not truly make me stronger. I’ve stopped manipulating others, but it still haunts me… and as much as I want to forget this, it’s a part of my life I cannot ignore. And I think you should know about this. If you now want nothing to do with me anymore I understand. It’s probably not very desirable to be with someone who did these things…”
“Val,” he heard Spelldon’s voice. “Can you do me a favour and look at me?”
Slowly Valentine left his hiding spot at Spelldon’s shoulder and leaned back to look at him. He wasn’t sure what to expect, whether he would be angry or disappointed. Spelldon’s face however looked as calm as always.
“Is that why you had nightmares all the time? The reason why you asked for a potion?”
Valentine nodded a little hesitantly.
For a moment Spelldon was silent and Valentine was preparing to hear Spelldon tell him he no longer wanted anything to do with him. What he got instead was a soft sigh and Spelldon pulling him closer.
“How long has this been eating you up, Val?” Spelldon asked.
“Oh, uhm… two years I think? It hasn’t been that long…”
“I think two years are quite long. How about…” Spelldon leaned in a little closer, “you try to close that chapter?”
“You don’t hate me?” Valentine asked sheepishly.
“I have no reason to. Besides, isn’t the most important thing that you’ve changed and no longer manipulate others?”
Valentine thought for a moment. He still wasn’t convinced that Spelldon accepted him with a past like that.
“I swear I’m no longer using my powers like I used to. I won’t ever again. I just want to live my unlife normally again. As normal as possible, at least.”
“See?” Spelldon said and his beautiful smile appeared on his face again. “No need to worry then. Would you like to come to the coffin bean with me? I’m kinda hungry.”
Valentine stared at Spelldon’s face, taken aback by how well he had taken the news. How was he even real?
“Would you like to go to prom with me?” Valentine blurted out without thinking.
Spelldon raised his eyebrows in surprise. It only took him a few seconds to gather his composure again though.
“I’ll go with you to prom if you come get some coffee with me now,” he said with a grin.
“I’ll go with you wherever you want.”
Spelldon looked into Valentine’s eyes which looked almost pink in the low light. He wasn’t often lost for words, but somehow the vampire managed to make him speechless more often than he would like to admit. But he wasn’t going to complain.
Valentine checked his outfit once more in the mirror. While he couldn’t see himself, his clothes at least appeared in the reflection. They looked good, but clothing had never been one of Valentine’s problems to begin with. He walked out of his room, down the stairs and out of the house. The limousine was already waiting for him. He had settled on meeting Spelldon at the gates of the school. They hadn’t officially started dating, but to Whisp this didn’t matter. Knowing her she was already planning a wedding. She couldn’t really believe it when Valentine had told her that he had actually spoken to Spelldon. She had however been absolutely amazing at hyping him up for today.
The way to school wasn’t long enough to prepare his nerves. Technically he knew there was nothing to worry about. Spelldon was the most laid-back and kind person he knew. Every time he was with him he couldn’t help but relax himself. And yet he was still nervous about meeting him for prom.
The car came to a stop. Around the gates monsters already gathered, looking for their partners. It wasn’t hard to spot Spelldon amongst them however. He was taller than everyone and by far the most handsome. Valentine kept himself from jumping out of the car in excitement.
“Spelldon!” he called.
Spelldon turned around, his eyes falling onto Valentine. Quickly Valentine walked over to his maybe-hopefully-soon-boyfriend. He wrapped his arms around his neck, standing on tiptoes.
“Hey handsome,” he said, smiling against Spelldon’s shoulder.
“Hey there,” Spelldon murmured into his hair.
Valentine wasn’t even a huge fan of proms or other similar gatherings. But as long as Spelldon was there it was okay. More than okay even. The dances he knew might have been a little old-fashioned, but nobody would beat him at a waltz. Not even Operetta with her Charleston.
As the night progressed and Valentine became more relaxed he was even able to ask Draculaura for a dance. Clawd might have looked at him a little more intensely than usual, but he had fun twirling her around and for once not think about their past.
But every time he returned to Spelldon, captivated by how the light made his purple eyes sparkle.
“I think I need some fresh air,” Spelldon huffed, a tired grin on his face. “Wanna come along?”
“You know you won’t get rid of me ever,” Valentine smiled sweetly, holding onto his arm.
“Good, ‘cause I never wanna get rid of you anyway,” Spelldon laughed and guided him outside into the courtyard.
The night was clear and cool and made Valentine wish his lungs still worked. They sat down on one of the stone benches around the empty fountain. Valentine hid his face in the crook of Spelldon’s neck and let out a quiet sigh. Silently he wished his unlife would stay like this forever.
“Enjoying yourself?” Spelldon asked.
“I do,” Valentine sighed and huddled closer to him. “Do you know that you’re really pretty?”
Spelldon fell silent and Valentine felt his grin grow.
“Like really pretty. I’ve never seen someone with eyes as pretty as yours. And your hair looks always so perfect. You manage to look so effortlessly cool and I really envy you, you know? I don’t know how you do it, but you do, every single day.”
“Val?”
Valentine looked up to Spelldon, but before he could say anything his lips were already on his’. For a split second he was surprised, but then he just melted into it. It was better – way better – than the time they kissed in his dream. He wrapped his arms around Spelldon’s neck, his hands tracing the design shaved into the back of his hair. He had lost all sense of time and he had no idea how long they had been kissing, but when Spelldon became a little more bold Valentine broke the kiss.
“Spell,” he whispered, only inches away from his face.
“Hmm?” Spelldon hummed, sounding disappointed.
“Careful, I don’t want to accidentally bite you.”
“Would I turn if you did?”
“No, but it would bleed.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Spell!” Valentine hit weakly against his shoulder with as much indignation as he could muster.
“What?” Spelldon grinned.
Valentine let out an impatient huff.
“I dreamed about this, you know. Of us kissing. After you gave me the potion.”
“Good to know I wasn’t the only one,” Spelldon said with a soft laugh. “For a moment I was wondering if I did something wrong with the potion.”
“I don’t think so… At least I definitely no longer have nightmares.”
“Good, that’s all I wanted.” Spelldon leaned his forehead against Valentine’s. “Wanna continue?”
“I told you, you won’t get rid of me ever again.”
“I told you I don’t want to.”
“Good. Then be quiet and kiss me.”