like you sleeping there.” He paused and ran a hand through his too-long hair, looking conflicted. “Please, just stay here for one night?”
I let my head fall back into the perfectly soft pillow. “Okay then,” I whispered, confused by his unexpected kindness. Just as he turned to leave, I said his name, “Ethan.”
He looked back, a wistful expression on his face.
“If there’s no hope for us as lovers, can we at least try to be friends?”
He sighed. “That probably won’t work.”
“How do you know if you don’t try?”
He stood still, regarding me intensely for a few quiet moments. “Very well then, we shall try.”
“Thank you,” I replied, and he left the room.
Exhaustion plunged me into a deep sleep, but I woke up in the middle of the night shivering. Stupidly, I hadn’t changed out of my rain-soaked clothes. I quickly got up and peeled everything off, before stepping into the bathroom and turning on the shower. The hot water seeped into my bones, warming me up. I couldn’t tell whether this was the guest room or if it belonged to Ethan. It had no distinguishing features, no belongings except for a couple of shirts hanging in the wardrobe.
I wrapped up in a towel and lay my clothes out on the radiator to dry. I put one of the shirts on, and judging by how it almost reached my knees, I’d say it definitely belonged to Ethan. Crawling back into bed, I switched off the lamp and closed my eyes. A moment later, the bedroom door opened, allowing a sliver of light to stream through.
I peeked my head over the blanket and found Ethan standing there.
“I could hear you moving around,” he said, eyes running over me.
“I fell asleep in my wet clothes, so I took them off and had a shower. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” A pause. “Well, goodnight then.”
He was about to close the door when I spoke. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“I thought I’d feel guilty after killing Eliza, but I don’t feel anything. When I think about her, I just feel nothing—empty. Does that make me a bad person?”
“Everybody reacts differently to their first kill. It all depends on the individual. Perhaps you feel nothing because you’re blocking the emotion. You’re still grieving for Rita’s mother. There’s no room for guilt, not yet.”
“So, the fact that I feel nothing is a survival instinct?”
“It’s definitely possible.”
“Oh, well, thanks. That makes me feel a little better.”
Ethan gave a soft smile. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?”
“Yeah,” I replied. “You need a haircut.”
Grinning, he tilted his head and ran his hand through his locks. “Are you criticising my appearance, girl who never wears anything but scruffy jeans and T-shirts with anti-vampire sentiment?”
I laughed. “Piss off. Sometimes I dress up. And I only have one anti-vampire T-shirt.”
He stopped smiling and instead gave me a smouldering look. “You don’t need to dress up. Your scent alone is enough adornment.”
“Well, you are the target audience for that,” I shot back.
“True,” he exhaled heavily as he ran a hand through his locks again. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing that can be done about my hair. Human barbers don’t open at night and there are no vampires on this side of the city to do it for me.”
“There are vampire barbers? You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“We all have our professions,” he answered with a shrug.
“I can cut your hair for you, if you’d like,” I offered impulsively.
“You cut hair?”
“I worked as a trainee hairdresser for a bit after I left school. I mostly only shampooed and swept the floors, but I can manage a basic cut.”
“I don’t possess any scissors,” Ethan said.
“I’m sure Delilah has some,” I replied, finding it adorable how hesitant he was being. “There’s no need to look so wary. I promise I won’t give you a hack job. After all, it would ruin our newfound friendship.”
“Okay then,” he replied, with just a sliver of apprehension.
I hopped out of bed, still in his shirt, but since it was so big on me, I didn’t feel self-conscious. Several minutes later, with some scissors borrowed from Delilah’s room, I stood over Ethan as he sat on a chair pushed up to the sink in the main bathroom so I could wash his hair before I cut it.
I put my fingers under the running water to make sure it was warm enough.
“You only need to give me a trim.”
“God, you are such a Vain Wayne, aren’t you?” I teased.