As she stood upon the cliff, wisps and swirls of mist crawled around her ankles, before climbing up into the air and transforming behind her – a very bizarre sight to see. She didn’t take her eyes off the moon, not even when he uttered her name. It was only when he brushed her shoulder with his cold, dead touch did she turn around.
His brown eyes looked more soft in the moonlight, if that was possible, and those fangs of his hid behind closed lips. There were no words exchanged between them as they stood facing each other. No words were needed at this moment.
He held onto her hand with a gentle, loose grip, allowing her to pull back if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Tonight was different. Nights like these had only occurred once or twice before. There was something there, prominent and unspoken, and for how long it had been there was a mystery to the both of them.
They were both already so old; they had seen so much, experienced so much (one more than the other). It was clear that they would always be outsiders. They were shunned in every century that ever was and ever will be, something that was guaranteed to never change.
There were not many people like them out there in the world and, therefore, they were overly grateful to be able to stand side by side. They were grateful to have found each other because this existence could be lonesome and cruel.
And sometimes it took only a single, knowing glance to be comforted, to know that you weren’t alone.
