Saturday, March 7, 2015

17 - The darkest night will pass…

Kemp lingered outside Rikard’s house, remembering the last time he’d entered. He had been full of hope then that he’d soon be reunited with Owen, only to have that hope dashed moments later.

“Are you coming inside?” Seth asked quietly from the doorway.

“Soon, yeah. Go ahead.”

“If you want to talk…”

Kemp shrugged. “Not really.”

Seth watched him compassionately. “I may not look it, but I have been around for a while and do know a thing or two about life and death. Neither one’s easy but you can’t remain locked in memories.”

“Yes, daddy dearest,” Kemp replied waspishly. “I’ve been told that so many times it’s coming out my ears.”

“And yet you persist on doing it. What are you? A slow learner?”

“No,” Kemp barked back. “But I’m the only one who really cared about him. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean I should forget him.”

Seth leaned against the door frame, shaking his head. “Has anyone asked you to? All I’m saying is don’t let that rule your life. It’s been two years since he was killed. Have you even looked at another man since then?”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in…” Kemp paused, turning to stare off into the night.

“In what, being hurt again, loosing someone again, finding out that there’s more to love than romantic dreams?”

Spinning back to look at Seth, Kemp scowled. “Just what do you mean by that?”

“Stop me if I’m wrong, but from what I understand you and Owen never did more than play at being in love. To put it crudely you kissed, probably fairly chastely, and unless I miss my guess you certainly never explored beyond a few touches here and there. Whatever Owen learned about sex was taught him by Khalid. You were too afraid of ‘spoiling’ him, or maybe despoiling him would be a better word.”

Kemp looked at him in stunned surprise. “How dare you try to demean what we had together?”

“I’m not doing that. Honest. I’m just trying to make you face a reality that you seem to have set aside. I’m sure you loved him. I’m sure he loved you, but you were like two kids playing at it, I think.”

“Fuck you and the horse you rode in on,” Kemp said angrily, pushing his way past the young vampyre into the house. He stormed across the living room, ignoring the looks he got, and slumped down in a chair in the corner, throwing his head back to stare blindly at the ceiling.