"I'm going to miss this," Sty said wistfully after a long spell of silence in which we both cooled down.

"I know what you're going to say, and don't. Just don't say it. I don't think I could handle the lets-just-be-friends talk," I said in a voice so low that if I hadn't been the one who spoke I wouldn't I've heard it at all.

"Ok. We'll postpone the DTR convo," Sty said as he nearly failed in suppressing a laugh before he pulled me into a kiss that was, to me,  entirely too forlorn. "Now, you go and  make a natural woman out of my brother."

I reluctantly drug myself from the bed and his arms, this time determined to keep going forward and not look back. Each step I took away from his side was like a dull knife tearing into the unbeating flesh of my heart. Just because I was, in fact, dead didn't mean that I didn't feel things just as powerfully as any other human; it hadn't been that long since I was turned. Five years is such a short time for us.

As I close the door behind me I thought the hard part was behind me. I was wrong. The hard part was the walking away from that door. But, it grow, slightly, eaisier once I released the doorknob,  some five minute later. The greater distance I put between him and I, the eaisier it all became.

I hovered outside Céleste's door. As easy as I though it had been to leave my Sty, I'd grown quite fond of him even going so far as to begin considering him my future, I still couldn't bring myself to open the door to his brother's room.

I was so unsure of myself in this moment. What if he was asleep? Would he be angry is I woke him? I bit the bullet, as they say, and knocked on the door.

"Come in," he said. I opened the door slowly and caustically. "Prince Nico," he said in a surprised voice as he looked at his phone. I knew it was somewhere aroung three or four o'clock in the morning. "What are you doing here, and at this ungodly hour in the morn?"

"Just checking up on you," I said lamely.

"I'm fine. Just couldn't sleep, is all," He said lightly as he sat the notebook he'd been writing in aside. "Does my brother know you're here?"

"Yes," I said as I stood there in the doorway awakwardly and out of place. I hadn't the faintest of clues as to what to do with myself.

"Is he still trying to get us together," Céleste asked lightly as thought we were talking about the weather.

"What are you writing," I said. I knew that he knew I was attempting to change the subject.

"I write poetry when I can't sleep," Céleste said after an awkward spell of time had elapsed.

"Cool," I said lamely. "The last poem I wrote was crap, I think."

"I'd like to read it sometime," He said in a somewhat breathy voice. "Are you going to stand there in the doorway all night or do I have to get out my crook and pull you in?" I went in the his room. Apprehension growning in my stomache. "Close the door," He said with a slight bit of laughter in his tone.

"Sorry," I said as I closed the door behind me. "I'm not usually so..."

"...Ambivalent," Céleste finnished for me.

"Yeah," I said.

"Why don't you have a seat," He said as he patted the bed next to him and threw back the covers. I dove into the bed and he threw the covers over me.

"You can't read it, but, I could recite it for you," I said as I settled into the bed. I draped my arm over him and he scooted into the nitch of my arm. His body was warm against mine. I had to admitt to myself that this did, in fact, feel right. It felt like I had come home after a long and wearisome journey.

"Ok," he said breathedly as he rested his head on my chest.

"Mind you, it's not very good."

"Just shut you and recite it already," he said in a light voice.
I didn't bother responding. I just dove in:

    "I lay awake at night, listless and inert, in my boudoir;

    Those idle hours spent in rapture dreaming of your face.

    And I have loved you, now, from afar.

    Your celestial beauty none, mortal nor god, can mar.

    I think I'm a victim of Cupid's coup de grace.

    I lay awake at night, listless and inert, in my boudoir.

    You woes, it is my deepest wish to debar.

    Tis the highest of priviledg just to reside in your space.

    And I have loved you, now, from afar.

    Your heart is like the great lodestar;

    The key that leads to our souls' interlace.

    I lay awake at night, listless and inert, in my boudoir.

    Before you I was a makeshift Pandora with my hear in a jar.

    Now, I'd gladly die a thousand happy deaths just to be in your embrace.

    And I have loved you, now, from afar.

    You in my respects are the world; the great empirical exemplar.

    My ceaseless and undying love for you nothing can efface.

    I lay awake at night, listless and inert, in my boudoir,

    And I have loved you, now, from afar."

"A Villanelle. Not bad. Cirtainly better than my last attempt," Céleste said after a spell in which he let my words sink in.

"I doubt that. Let's hear it," I said. I was getting the sence that this was what he wanted me to go; to goad him into revealing his poetry.

"Ok," He said as he picked up the notebook from beside him and turned to a page in the book and took a deep breath. "It's called The Awakenment. Here it goes:

"Because you would not halt for me, let us go then, Death, old friend.

My great work shan't ever be done. It's too great a task; a needle in a hay bale.

Let us go then, Death, old friend, to that rapturous land beyond the pretend.

Indubutably, these meager nothings I attempt to pen are so easy to vilipend.

I realize this — they are a fermion that I imagined, in my vanity, the be a whale ­—

Because you would not halt for me, let us go then, Death, old friend.

Let us find another purpose and this frail, pyrite gold of a hope, suspend.

(Finally) I am free of this Damoclean mantle. "Writer­ — never more," my soul does gale

Let us go then, Death, old friend, to that rapturous land beyond the pretend.

Let us depart from hell and leave this false god unpenned.

Over heel, let us search. Over alp. Over mesa. Down in the dale.

Because you would not halt for me, let us go then, Death, old friend.

If we must, let us rend rock from earth, and arrest the course of rivers in the vale ­—

Employ whatever means necesary to maintain this new life we apprehend.

Let us go then, Death, old friend, to that rapturous land beyond the pretend.

Death, old mate, your unexpected arrival was a godsend.

Now, we sup, from the goblet of life, that ambrosia-ed ale.

Because you would not halt for me, let us go then, Death, old friend.

Let us go then, Death, old friend, to that rapturous land beyond the pretend."

"It's about the acceptance of death as an evitable fact of life, right," I said after awhile.

"Something like that."

"Was that what you were working on when I came in," I asked even though I knew that the answer was no. I mean, I'd seen him turn to one of the first few pages of the book when he'd clearly been near the end of the book, but, I had my part to play and play it I would.

"No. I was working on something else."

"Are you going to keep me in suspence or what?"

"Well, a girl's got to keep some mystery or you'll grow board with me," He said lightly with a chuckle.

"Somehow I doubt that will happen in my lifetime," I said with a laugh.

"Well, you cirtainly have a silver tongue on you."

"I do try. With you I find that to be an ever incressingly difficult task."

"Ok, here's the poem I was just writing. I hope you like it:

"I should have whispered honeyed words upon your ear,

But, lips would part and voice would falter.

Were voice to find the words to speak, it would say:

Phoebe's silver coach is your diamond bright eyne.

The gilded rays of the sun are your rosy lips.

The blush on your cheek is fairer still than the majasty of nature.

The melody of your voice is a heady wine —

One word from you and I'm a bumbble-footed drunk;

I am like a junkie. Withdraw your voice from me,

And my drug-addled soul will desend to the depths of Tartorus and back

Just to have your lips part and your hot breath upon my cheek."

"Were you writing about me," I asked lightly.

"What can I say. You have to follow where inspairation leads. And you inspire a lot in me."

"I could so kiss you right now. Can I kiss you?"

"There are a few things you never need to ask me to do, and a kiss is cirtainly at the top of that list," Céleste said lighly as he pressed his lips to mine.

"If you're going to kiss me, kiss me like you mean it," I said breathedly as he pulled away. He dived on me like I was a buffet and he hadn't eaten in weeks. I pulled away and the hurt look in his eyes prompted me to say, "Slow down. We've got time to get to know each other." I could also see that my pulling away had took the wind out of his sails, so to speak.

"Right. I'm sorry," He said sheepishly.

He wouldn't look me in the eye. I put a finger under his chin and nudged him. Once he made eye contatct I said "Mon cɶur, I don't want to hurt you. Lets just cuddle for now," I said as I opened my arms. He swarmed into them and I encolsed him in a warm embrace.