Two for tragedy. Volume 1
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Viper suddenly blushed and lowered her gaze to the floor.
– Yes… That was not nice of me," she said quietly.
– Next time, if there are any contradictions between us, we will solve them immediately and without interference from outsiders, – I said insistently.
– Next time? You think we can study together? – Viper was surprised.
– Why not?
– If only because you can't keep your temper to yourself.
– I thought I said I was capable of self-control? – I asked calmly and a little mockingly.
– Yes, I heard you. But can you guarantee that you won't insult me again and look at me with that contemptuous look?
– I… promise to keep my temper in check. – I barely got that promise out of me, the first time I'd ever promised something to a man and apologised to him twice before.
– Then I agree to continue our lessons.
You do? Like I asked her to do that?
– While we're at it, let me ask you, what other poets do you prefer? – As if seizing the opportunity, Viper suddenly asked.
– Goethe, Schiller, Lord Byron, Petrarch. I've already mentioned Baudelaire. But, actually, there are many, it's hard to list them all. From literature I prefer the classics. What do you read?
– Classics are a rare guest on my bookshelf. I read some of the classics, but it's more for self-development… In fact… You may think I'm naive, but I like books about vampires. And of poets I prefer Lermontov, well, and Baudelaire, of course," the girl shared with me, laughing softly.
I couldn't help but chuckle. If only Viper knew that she wasn't naive in her fascination with books about us, and that one of the vampires was standing next to her, talking to her!
– Vampires? Good choice," I said with a chuckle.
– No… Bad. I should prefer more serious literature… Alas, I'm too light-minded," Viper said embarrassedly, hiding her beautiful eyes from me again, as if embarrassed by her fondness for mystical literature.
– On the contrary: you take things too personally," I said quietly, wishing she wouldn't dare to belittle her virtues. – Perhaps your soul is too tender for our cruel material world. And you have nothing to be ashamed of in your literary tastes.
– Yes… I suppose you're right," Viper said quietly.
No matter how hard I tried, she felt uncomfortable. Perhaps my chuckle at her mention of vampire books had misled her.
I was torn by conflicting feelings. In the books Viper preferred to read, vampires were always portrayed as romantic heroes whose romanticism overshadowed the true cruelty of our lives. Always dark but noble, book vampires remain ideals in the imagination of mortal girls that they can never find in real life, because vampires never come into contact with mortals. Unless I'm forced to, or, I'm not going to lie, I don't know why, I've sought companionship with this mortal. But humans have made idols of us. Is the Viper in this foolish delusion?
– I don't believe in the existence of vampires at all," I said, trying to ask Viper how she felt about us.
– To be honest, neither do I. Don't think that I think they're real – I just like the mystical atmosphere… Although, of course, this is a subjective opinion, because we can't say that vampires don't exist just because we haven't seen them. We can't see God, but there is a God," Viper said seriously. – But I don't believe in vampires. I'd rather believe that the sun revolves around the Earth… Okay, let's not talk about that. I realise this all sounds weird and stupid, and it's stupid that we're even discussing it.
– Whatever. So what about the next meeting? – I asked, satisfied with my mentee's sarcasm about vampire books and the fact that I'd managed to convince her to keep studying with me.
– Well… Maybe tomorrow? – she suggested timidly.
– Great," I agreed without hesitation.
– I'll have a call for a date soon. – Viper looked me in the eye. – 'Let's say five o'clock, same place. Is that okay with you?
– Sure," I answered briefly, deciding not to delay her.
– Then I'll see you tomorrow," she said, and grabbed her bag without turning round and walked away from the corner of the corridor.
As I watched Viper walk away, I grinned slightly. Strangely, the memory of apologising to her, mortally, and twice, made my grin turn into a faint smile of surprised satisfaction. It was wrong, unnecessary. It was unnatural. But I had no desire to stop the flow of these marvellous thoughts – they didn't threaten me. I could distance myself from Viper at any time, without regret or self-harm. It was so easy.
CHAPTER 8.
I didn't think it would come to reconciliation. On the contrary-I was going to humiliate and shame Viper again, but it turned out that I was the one standing in front of her, humiliated and ashamed of my action. Something inexplicable pushed me to tell her about my love of poetry, and even to explain the reason for that love. Why? Do I have to explain anything to her? It was as if my mind had fallen asleep: my contempt for Viper was gone, and I was enjoying her company, for I had always guarded my privacy and my thoughts fiercely, preferring solitude to any interlocutor. I liked this girl's voice – low enough, but soft and enchanting, as if penetrating to the very soul.
Full of these thoughts I went to the next pair, but comfortably seated in my chair, I did not hear the teacher's voice. What he was talking about or how he was explaining the hieroglyphics adorning the blackboard was unimportant. I couldn't concentrate. I looked at that blackboard and saw blurred silhouettes spreading out on it like watercolours on wet paper.
In the afternoon, an unexpected sun peeked out, which brought me some difficulties. Pulling my jacket over my ears and trying to hide in the shadows cast by the university, I made my way swiftly to my car. When I reached it and placed my palm on the door handle, a ray of sunlight hit my skin, immediately turning my palm from young and beautiful to ugly, aged, yellowed like ancient parchment. I was instantly in the car and smiled mockingly at this little incident: fortunately, there were no witnesses I had to eliminate so that no one would ever know what Cedric Morgan was really like.
I arrived at the castle, put the car in the garage and went up to the main hall, which served as our sitting room and, occasionally, our dining room, when we, with goblets full of fresh blood, sat by the huge fireplace and had conversations on a variety of topics.
Although I had at my disposal my own spacious annexe, to which I had to walk across the castle, I occupied only one room. Along the way, I rarely encountered any unexpected visitors, as the castle was empty most of the time. I did not consider the presence of six servants, who travelled through the castle by secret passages, so as not to glimpse their masters, worthy of attention.