Married To The Mad Vampire Lord - Chapter 555

Chapter 555: Letter’s_Part 2
He stared at the letters for a moment, then reached for a yellow envelope. He opened it and took out the folded letter from within. Max hesitated to read it, afraid of what he would find, but he still unfolded the paper and began to read. As his eyes moved across the words, they slowly softened.

[To my dear Angel,

Today I finally got my own room! Mama was reluctant to let me stay on my own because she thought I might get sick at night, but then I convinced her with the argument you taught me, about how if she didn’t let me fly, my wings might wane and become useless. Not that I have wings like you, but I told her that anyway, and she looked at me for a long time before saying she would let me sleep on my own for one night!

Angel, I did it. I passed two nights without Mama beside me. Though I was scared of being alone in my room at night, I looked at the portrait of Papa you sent me, and I felt brave. I felt like you and Papa were watching me and keeping me safe while I slept. I can’t wait for you to see my room and tell me if you like it.

Enough about my room. Tell me about your school and whether you have made any friends there. Did you receive the gift I put inside your bag? Did you like it? ]

Angel paused. The gift she talked about was a set of paintbrushes he had once mentioned wanting to buy but never did before leaving for the academy as he didn’t get the chance to go back to their place and visit the market he had seen it in. He continued reading.

[I finally broke my safebox because I saw how much you wanted those paintbrushes when you escorted Mama and me to the market. I was saving the money for Papa when he comes back home, but I thought maybe you needed them more right now. I gave them to Rosey to put in your belongings when you are leaving. Please don’t be angry with me for using my safe money. ]

Max smiled bitterly. He recalled how she had been saving that money for Uncle Rav, planning to buy him something nice when he returned, but she had used it to buy him something he had never even used, because he had stopped drawing and painting a long time ago.

He put that letter away and took another, one that spoke of her daily life, of small things that happened in their house, things written so simply that they made him smile without realizing it. Then he took another letter.

[Why are you not replying to me anymore, Angel? I wait every day for your letters and Papa’s, but none of them come anymore. I feel… sad. Did I do something to upset you or Papa?

I feel like a burden to Mama because she is trying to give me everything, even things I didn’t ask for. She thinks I feel lonely because I don’t go out with friends, but it was always your letters that made my days bright. Now you are not replying either.

I have sent more than twenty letters with no reply. Can you please write back and tell me if I did something wrong? ]

Angel picked up another letter, guilt stabbing sharply at his heart. From the uneven writing and the dark patches on the paper, he could tell she had cried while writing this one.

[Angel, I believe I am dying, and it hurts so much to think that I might die without knowing what I did to make you stop writing to me. When I heard you went to Velmere last winter without asking about me or writing to me, I felt angry at you and stopped writing. But then now that I believe I will die, I can’t help but write to you again.]

Angel paused, searching his memory for any mention of Elle ever falling gravely ill. No one had told him anything, not his parents, not Finn, not even Rosey. Unease crept slowly into his chest as he continued reading, wanting to find out what had happened to her.

[It hurt so much, Angel. I woke up this morning and found my bedsheets stained with blood, and my stomach hurt in a way I have never felt before. I am scared and don’t know what to do.

I haven’t told Mama because I didn’t want her to worry. I washed the sheets and hid my clothes, but I wanted you to know. If I really am dying, I want you to know that I am sorry if I ever hurt you without knowing it. I hope you can forgive me.

And please write back to me before I die. I miss you so much. I miss how you used to hold me and hug me. I wish… I wish you never went away.]

Little Red, Max thought, his throat contracting painfully as he reached for another one of her letters, the one that came after the letter in which she believed she was dying.

[Now I feel embarrassed. I hope and wish you didn’t read my last letter, which I sent to you in distress because I thought I was dying. I wasn’t dying. As a boy, you wouldn’t understand female things Mama explained to me when she found out what I was hiding.

Mama says I am now a woman and I have to be careful and—forget it. I shouldn’t talk to you about this. It’s quite embarrassing to write about. But I want you to know that I am fine, and Mama said I am a healthy young woman.

I asked her if men get it too, and she told me men have their own that comes when they are growing. I am quite curious what men get when women get blood every month. Have you gotten yours in men form, Angel? What is it like, and how different is it from mine? Is it also blood?]

Angel had no idea he was still capable of flushing from something written years ago by an innocent young woman, one he had once believed would be his forever.

What do men get? she had asked so innocently.

A laugh escaped him, a sound he didn’t know still lived inside him. He laughed and hid it behind his wrist. If only she knew what men got. If only he himself had known before he truly became a man.

Well, you are no longer mine, Red. You are becoming another man’s wife. I dare not tell another man’s wife about my experience of becoming a man.

His gaze drifted to the pile of letters, the weight of them settling heavily in his chest as he fully understood how much he had lost now, how completely Elle now belonged to another.

He had gone away to learn how to save her father, and in the process, he had not only lost himself… but her as well, and everything that had once made him who he was.

“I am sorry…” he whispered softly, his voice trembling slightly.

Tears gathered in his dark eyes as he slowly lowered himself to the floor beside the chest, pulling the letters against his chest and holding them there, as though they could still hear his heart, a heart that felt like it would never love another the way it had loved her.

___

A/N

It’s Christmas, guys! Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, and may your day be filled with joy, laughter, and wonderful moments!