The Aftermath of Love and Betrayal

How could Eden have been fine to now stumble. He wanted to help, but it seemed that he insisted on doing it himself. All he could really do was watch as his staff came in to help. When the doctor arrived, Romeo had gotten dressed, sitting on a chair next to the bed. He remained quiet, looking at the vampyre as a servant and the doctor spoke. He heard all of it. And now he felt so selfish. He had made Eden run. He had instigated the continuous love making. He had wanted to wash up. It felt like being scolded the way the doctor spoke. "Is there something I can do?" He asked, looking at her with his eyes rather serious. "I can't help but feel I'm to blame," he added, looking back at the resting vampyre. It was so weird seeing him with closed eyes like this. Especially as he was slowly starting to cool down after the bath.

Even if the doctor told him not to worry, it had the opposite effect. He felt like such a narcissistic asshole sitting here, knowing the he was the reason. The reason as to why the wound was having a hard time healing. The reason why Eden hadn't been resting as he should. That was why he hadn't answered. He had been resting. Romeo just looked at the vampyre as he told the doctor to stop touching him. "Deep slumber?" Romeo asked out loud, looking from Eden to the doctor. He wasn't quite sure of the terminology, and he frankly was afraid of what that meant. "Isn't there some antidote to the infection? Like antibiotics or a vaccine or..." he trailed off not knowing what else there could be.

Dead. No. No, that couldn't be. They had just made plans for solstice! Romeo frowned, looking at Eden with worry in his eyes. He couldn't even reply. Eden would be as good as dead, and once he woke up, then Romeo might've died in the meantime. He was shaking a little, frightened that he was going to lose the vampyre now that he finally had him back. "I'm acquainted with a few seraph that might be willing to donate tears and blood ... how much would be needed?" He asked, looking at the doctor. There had to be something he could do, and if it was getting the supplies for his healing then so be it.

Romeo heard Eden trying to speak but he shook his head. He had made up his mind. This was needed. The lycan got the contact information from the doctor, already having a couple of people in mind that might help him. "I'm not letting you get out of this bed before you're healed," he said quite seriously to Eden. As the doctor made her leave he sat there, holding Eden's hand carefully. "I know you want to get up and do stuff, but for now this is how it needs to be ... I'm not risking losing you," he said.

Even if it would be a while, it was better than the prospects of Eden never waking up again. There was a small pause and then the vampyre asked him something that made him sigh. Moving closer, he leaned down to kiss Eden's forehead gently. "I never regret what we do together ... but had I known better I would've held back ... I would've thought my actions through," he said. That was how he usually were, and it scared him a little how irrational he could be when it came to Eden. "Do you?"

He sighed, having sat down on the bed next to him as he clearly wanted it. He watched his hand get lifted and kissed, "I love you too," he said, smiling at him. Breathing out he scoffed shaking his head, "fools in love," he muttered.

"I have to head back," he sighed. It wasn't a question whether or not his uncle was going to get mad. It was more the fact that Romeo still had much to do. "I'll be over as much as I can, alright," he said, having to get up, leaning down to the vampyre to place a kiss against his lips. He sighed. "I guess I'll need to get home in lycan form," he muttered. At least that could explain where his clothes had gone.
Shortly after that he left, heading back home to his uncle's mansion. He held his ring in his mouth until he reached the property, getting greeted by the butler who had a set of clothes ready for him. Shifting back he got dressed, putting on the ring before taking a quick glance in the mirror.

He adjusted his collar slightly before walking in to the living room, meaning to get a book he had left in there earlier. That was when he noticed his uncle wasn't alone. Kareema. "Miss Acton," he greeted, a warm smile crawling up on his lips. He went to her, taking her hand gently if she let him, greeting her with a kiss on the hand before looking to his uncle, giving him a firm nod, "sir."
He chuckled softly, moving a hand through his hair, "I had a fairly decent night, yes, I hope you had as well." He felt nervous. Perhaps because he knew that she knew. But his uncle seemed in a good mood. "Pardon me, I do not wish to interrupt," he said, quite apologetic as he looked from Kareema to his uncle.

Oh how he wished he hadn't have to do this right now. Kareema wanted him to join while his uncle insisted on him continuing with his studies. It seemed as though the vampyre won, and as he sat down he was handed a drink. Lifting it as a small toast, he looked from his uncle to Kareema. She was playing a dangerous game and she had nothing to lose. He took a sip of his given drink humming as he leaned back, acting more relaxed than he actually was. His mind was racing with Eden and the fact that he still had some studies to catch up to. "Do indulge us, miss Acton," he chuckled as she had mentioned stuff she wanted to disclose.

He took another sip of his drink as she spoke, only to ask him a question he knew was tailored to him. He hummed, thinking it through, resting the glass on the armrest of his seat. "Judgement," he said, sending the vampyre a slight smile, "or perhaps it is with all good things; suspense until everything is revealed." He knew she was referring to him and Eden, because she clearly enjoyed this a little too much. "But I suppose they all try to run from their own deceits ... Lies they tell themselves to keep on living."

"I'm afraid I've met quite the few even in my short lifespan," he sighed, taking a sip of his drink, swirling the heavy liquid around making curtains on the inside of the glass. "Myself included," he said quite bluntly, finishing his drink. He got up from his seat, placing the glass on the table, "one glass ... I really do have to get on with my studies now," he said, a more sad smile on his lips as he looked at Kareema. "Of course you are welcome to contact me any time, miss Acton, I do in fact enjoy your company - and it seems so does my uncle,' he chuckled, watching how red his uncle's cheeks had gotten from the alcohol. He nodded at the two, walking over to get his book before he bid them good night, "I won't stay up long, I have a test in the morning," he told his uncle before he gave Kareema one more look. Was he challenging her to follow now that his uncle was as drunk as he was? Perhaps, but he kept calm before moving upstairs to his room. He hadn't been kidding about his test nor his studies, so he flipped through his notes and sat down like the brilliant kid he was supposed to be.

He was writing away, feeling his eyes tired, but it was his own damned fault. He heard the knock, humming a fast enter before he sensed who it was. Looking up he saw none other than Kareema. So she had dated to come to him. "I do not mind you playing games with me, frankly I find it amusing," he said, leaning back in his chair, playing with his ballpoint pen, hitting it against his free palm. "But I do not like being threatened, even if this is simply a game to you, it is my life," he said, just being up front with her. She liked interesting characters, so here he was, stuck in her games it seemed. "I know that you know ... and you know that I know," he said, placing the pen down, looking at his notes before massaging his nose bridge slightly, closing his eyes for a while. It was clear he was tired. And he had to get up early, which was the worst part. "If my uncle found out before I'm ready to say anything ..." he said, looking down before shaking his head. To her it probably didn't matter.
"You saw me when I was a kid ... you perhaps even knew me on the surface, but now I am no longer a child," he said looking at Kareema with calm eyes. "I have grown up, worked hard for everything I have, and while money was never a problem, it surely didn't aid me as much as one could hope."

"Trust me I haven't been a child for a long time," he said quite seriously, getting up from his chair and walking over to his bedside table, picking up a book. Breathing out in a sigh he shook his head. "I can't afford to be anything but perfect ... Anything less than that and I'm no good," he said. It was clear he had put that in his own mind. But it was his way of coping with the shit he had gone through at a young age. "I'm 17," he finally replied, moving back to his desk, placing the book down as he looked at Kareema. "But what difference does that make? You won't go after me cause I'm a minor? Or is it something else you are after?"