My Ice Prince

Морион Анна

– Really? – Mary asked with hope in her voice. – You see, I really don't have any money.

– Of course, you said it yourself: we'll have fun living together! – I smiled. – I'm so glad you're here.

– It's so kind of you! Thank you, Marsha. We're going to be good friends! – She hugged me tightly.

I felt awkward, but I hugged her back, trying not to squeeze her too tightly. It was a new, strange feeling: I was hugging a person. Was this the right thing to do? Why am I doing this? I'm not supposed to be friends with people, and she said let's be friends!

What would my family say if they found out? And Mariszka? They'll just take me home!

«But they don't have to know. I think one human friend won't hurt me. Especially since she's a nice, kind girl, and maybe living with her will help me fit in more quickly with the human world, life and surroundings. Mary will help me become a human being in the eyes of society. And, yes, it will be fun» I decided firmly.

«Will you show me around the orphanage?» – I wanted to ask, but then I changed my mind: I didn't want to see homeless children.

– Just please don't call me Marsha» I asked instead. – My name is Misha. Misha.

– I'm sorry, did I call you Marsha again? – Mary wrinkled her nose. – I promise, that was the last time.

I smiled.

– Misha, you're so nice! – Mary said softly, looking into my eyes. – I didn't even expect you, so beautiful, to be so kind too!

«Is she talking about me? I'm the good one? That's funny. If only she knew that instead of cucumbers and tomatoes, I feed on human blood… Oh, and I'm supposed to get it today! I have to run home right away!» – I thought fondly.

– But you don't know me at all! – I was surprised.

– Yes, we met only today, but I feel that you are nice. Believe me, I'm a good judge of character» Mary replied in a serious tone.

«Oh, Mary, how wrong you are this time!» – I thought, but I did not object to her persuasion.

– I am to have a parcel sent to me today, so I think I must go home at once» I said hastily.

– Then let's go! Let's quicken our step!

We walked briskly up Cowley Road, reached the turn into our alley, and suddenly Mary stopped.

– You know what? You go home and I'll go to the orphanage and talk to Reverend Charles. I need to find out when I can go to work» she said. – And don't worry about groceries, I'll stop at the supermarket on the way back. So what can I get you?

I thought about it: I didn't need human food, but I needed something to eat in Mary's eyes.

– I don't want to bother you with my problems. I'll buy it myself» I said, to discourage her from monitoring my diet.

The fact that Mary would make me have to mess around with human food I didn't need irritated me a little, but I was willing to put up with the inconvenience.

«What good timing she's leaving: she doesn't need to see my 'humanitarian aid!» – I thought with relief.

– 'Well, suit yourself, if anything, the supermarket is on the other side – you certainly won't miss it. Well, I'm off! I'll meet you at home! – Mary started to leave.

– I'll move my stuff out of your room! – I shouted after her.

– Your clothes are cool! – she shouted back at me.

That phrase made me frown: was she going through my stuff in her bedroom wardrobe? That's rather unpleasant…

I headed home.

By midday Cowley Road had become a torrent of everyday energy, with shop windows, pubs and cafes on both sides of the street, and I was fascinated by this new information landscape.

I liked Oxford from the first sight: such a cosy, warmly atmospheric town, and with insanely beautiful Gothic architecture coming from all sides. It was so numerous and varied that it would take at least three months of daily contemplation to see all its richness.

The sun was high in the sky, and the asphalt glistened dully under its probably warm rays: the people around me were dressed almost as warmly as I was, so I had not failed in my appearance.

And how many young faces there were around! Girls, guys, probably also students, walking on the pavement, sitting in cafes, chatting, cyclists passing by… And they were all looking at me. I could feel their eyes on me. And it was all the fault of my vampire beauty: I was tall, thin (not skinny, as Mary said), I had beautiful pale clear skin, beautiful nails, long, wavy golden hair that went down below my waist, big grey-blue eyes…

When I lived at home, I never thought about being very beautiful in human society. I had never appreciated my looks, and now this general admiration for them made me want to go home as soon as possible so that people would stop staring at me. It was an insanely burdensome feeling.

«How do my sisters stand it? It's so disgusting to cause everyone's attention!» – I thought grudgingly, lowered my gaze to the road, quickened my step, and tried to suppress the thought that I had become a show dog of an expensive breed.

«Who is that girl? I haven't seen her here before» I suddenly heard as I passed two young men. – «Probably a student. I wonder where she lives?» – replied another voice. – «I'm more interested in how she got here. Hardly with her brain» replied the first one to him.

Hearing this assumption, offensive to me and my intellect, I was greatly offended by these people.

«Wow, they think that if I'm pretty, then I'm not smart enough to get into Oxford on my own? Do all the people round here think the same?» – I thought with despair.

My beautiful mood was crushed: I walked towards home and thought only of bad things. My resentment would not go away: I was resentful of the many long hours I had spent studying at home. And self-education? I had worked so hard at it, sitting at my laptop all day long!