“Do you celebrate Christmas?” He asked me as we stared at an old U.S. National Archives Christmas poster. I studied the smiling Santa, the altered American flag and took in all the emotions that flooded the exhibit that early December evening. I glanced at him, his face reading his eagerness for me to answer the question, “Do you?”
“I haven’t in years.” I confessed. “Haven’t had any family to share the time with so there has been no reason for me to ring in the holidays like you humans do.” I added before drifting away from the poster and him.
“Do you remember you…” he paused, “Human life?”
“I try to forget it.” I replied dryly. “There’s no need to think about the past when I have forever ahead of me.” He frowned at my statement and moved closer to me until I could his muscle plated chest against mine. His large hand caressed my chin; I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of his flesh as it comforted my icy skin.
“You know, you could have a family again.” He whispered. “You and me, we could start a….”
“No, we can’t.” I interrupted.
“Why not?” He asked.
“Haven’t we talked about this before, Sam? I’m not taking your life.”
“Why? It’s not your life to rule, it’s mine.” His voice held a child like tone and his dark brown eyes were heavy with questions. I suddenly appreciated the unusual gift of not being able to read his mind as well as others. If I could, I would have answered all of them at once. “Chanel, you know I want this.”
“And why would you want this? Why the hell would you want to be a monster, Sam?”
“You’re not a monster, Nel.” He touched my face again and I could my body reacting to his touch but before I allowed myself to give in, I snapped away. “Nel, I love you.”
“And I love you, Sam. But I’m not going to take your life to fulfill my own.” Sam created a gap between us, his eyes low and his demeanor deflated.
“If you loved me…you would.” He stated.
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