Chapter 54: That Which We Call a Rose...
Asking a parent for help isn't always easy, especially when you've barely spoken to them for the better part of a year. Yet calling his mother to ask about what flowers to get a girl is the only option Valentine can think of. He knows nothing about flowers, or if he's entirely honest, women. All his teens he was so focused on his quest to learn as much as he could about vampires, and how to become one, that he never took the chance to explore what it was to be a teen. Dating, a first kiss, a prom date and the fumbling first, none of these things were things he explored. Sure his father had "the talk" with him, and there was the sorry excuse for sex-ed in school, but he never paid it any attention because he saw no reason to. Now he wishes he had paid more attention.
He calls his mother from his bedroom first thing as he wakes up, not wanting to have this call downstairs. He knows the Count disapproves of him contacting his family, and he is fairly certain that he will disapprove of him pursuing Helena too, so he has no intention of telling him what he's up to.
His mother sounds glad to hear from him, and she's happy to help. "When you don't know her better, roses are always the way to go," she tells him. "The longer and the redder the better."
"Thanks mom."
"Happy to help. And baby, I know summers are hard for you when it comes to Oasis Springs, but you know your father and I are happy to come to you-"
"No!" The answer is immediate. It was bad enough at Louis and Lena's but he never feared for their safety. With the Count... he's not so certain. "The Count really don't like mortals," he says when he heers how disappointed his mother sounds, not wanting to hurt her.
"Well, then, how about Tartosa? Do you ever go there? You know your father and I go there every summer and it's not that far from you."
"When are you there?" Valentine asks.
"Right after Amity's birthday. She's becoming a teenager, can you believe it?" Valentine can't. He still thinks of her as little toddler, as he has only seen her once or twice since she became a child. He can't even really remember.
"Wait, isn't dad set to age up-"
"Oh sweetie, he already did. He invited you, remember? I know it was almost half a year early, but sometimes that's life. With everything-"
"I made him age up early?" Valentine asks.
"Not you. Never you. He loves you. He misses you so much. Will you come see us this summer?"
"Yeah, I'll come," Valentine said, feeling bad, and knowing he should have paid more attention to his father when they last met. He had looked old, but an elder? So soon? He hadn't even considered it.
He orders the flowers right after hanging up, and then showers and gets ready to head out while waiting for the delivery. For being as remove as it is, deliveries came surprisingly fast even here, and the delivery person is also an excellent meal. He considers asking permission, but decides he has no time. He tips extra instead. Then hurries off to Helena's house.
He's quite nervous as he knocks on the door, but set at ease the moment he walks in. Helena's house feels warm and inviting. It's deeply red, which he loves, but not as stale and harsh as the Count's. There is a mix of soft furniture, old furniture, a plethora av plants and books and more modern contraption such as a stereo. Until he sees it, Valentine hasn't realised how much he's missed a stereo in the house.
To his relief and joy, Helena accepts his apology and rose, and invites him into her home.
In spite of Valentine's nervousness, the conversation just flows. He learns that she loves to read, is really jealous when in a relationship and quite materialistic. They both love the same type of music, and for the longest time they get lost in conversations about old bands from the 60s and 70s.
"Wait, you were actually at Summer of Soul?"
"It was never called that, you know," Helena laughs. "But yeah, I was in Harlem that summer. It was fantastic, and hot, and so hard to keep your fangs in check with 300 000 beating hearts surrounding you. I swear I heard them over the beat. Lilith must have been the only white woman in Harlem, but damn she saved me from losing control."
"Lilith Vatore? She sired you?" Valentine asked. "Were you..."
"Go ahead, you can ask, and yeah we were. For about a decade or so, but she enjoyed the free love vibe of the time more than I did. Made for a lot of arguments, a lot of making up sex, and in the end too much heartbreak to handle. Lilith just can't be tied down, you know, it wasn't right for her, and the free love stuff, no jealousy, I had enough of it. Some say your emotion dampens when you're reborn, but that's not true for me. The intensity, the sensory overload... everything is crisper, stronger. Passion, hate, jealousy... all of it."
"But a decade?"
"Is not that long when you live forever," Helena says softly. "No need to get hung up on something that ended fifty years ago."
"Well, when you say it like that."
"Hey, look whose come to see who is invading his house," Helena interrupted, gesturing to the cat that walked in. "Meet Ozzi. And have no doubt, you need his approval to be in his house."
Valentine does his best to be liked by the little cat. Ozzi smells him, seems to accept him, and heads for the kitchen and his food bowl.
"That's about as much approval as anyone gets," Helena says with a smile.
The rest of the night they keep speaking about music, about artists, and dance to some of the fantastic old recods that Helena own.
"What is that Jimi Hendrix's actual signature?"
"Yeah, we moved in the same crowd for a while, but that scene really wasn't my jam. Too much drinking, too much drugs, too much of everything, while also dealing with all the stuff that comes from being a vampire. Couldn't handle, so I walked away. I did get some rare beauties like that from it though."
Amazed, and slightly in awe, Valentine wonders what it is that makes someone as cool as Helena even remotely interested in him. But he can't deny that she's flirting with him, a lot, and while he doesn't understand it, he has no intention of not taking the chance when he has it, so as he's about to leave early in the morning hours before the sun is up, he leans in an kiss her.
As he pulls away, Helena wraps her arms around him. "Oh honey, you call that a kiss? I'll show you what a kiss should be." And then she does.
He calls his mother from his bedroom first thing as he wakes up, not wanting to have this call downstairs. He knows the Count disapproves of him contacting his family, and he is fairly certain that he will disapprove of him pursuing Helena too, so he has no intention of telling him what he's up to.
His mother sounds glad to hear from him, and she's happy to help. "When you don't know her better, roses are always the way to go," she tells him. "The longer and the redder the better."
"Thanks mom."
"Happy to help. And baby, I know summers are hard for you when it comes to Oasis Springs, but you know your father and I are happy to come to you-"
"No!" The answer is immediate. It was bad enough at Louis and Lena's but he never feared for their safety. With the Count... he's not so certain. "The Count really don't like mortals," he says when he heers how disappointed his mother sounds, not wanting to hurt her.
"Well, then, how about Tartosa? Do you ever go there? You know your father and I go there every summer and it's not that far from you."
"When are you there?" Valentine asks.
"Right after Amity's birthday. She's becoming a teenager, can you believe it?" Valentine can't. He still thinks of her as little toddler, as he has only seen her once or twice since she became a child. He can't even really remember.
"Wait, isn't dad set to age up-"
"Oh sweetie, he already did. He invited you, remember? I know it was almost half a year early, but sometimes that's life. With everything-"
"I made him age up early?" Valentine asks.
"Not you. Never you. He loves you. He misses you so much. Will you come see us this summer?"
"Yeah, I'll come," Valentine said, feeling bad, and knowing he should have paid more attention to his father when they last met. He had looked old, but an elder? So soon? He hadn't even considered it.
He orders the flowers right after hanging up, and then showers and gets ready to head out while waiting for the delivery. For being as remove as it is, deliveries came surprisingly fast even here, and the delivery person is also an excellent meal. He considers asking permission, but decides he has no time. He tips extra instead. Then hurries off to Helena's house.
He's quite nervous as he knocks on the door, but set at ease the moment he walks in. Helena's house feels warm and inviting. It's deeply red, which he loves, but not as stale and harsh as the Count's. There is a mix of soft furniture, old furniture, a plethora av plants and books and more modern contraption such as a stereo. Until he sees it, Valentine hasn't realised how much he's missed a stereo in the house.
To his relief and joy, Helena accepts his apology and rose, and invites him into her home.
In spite of Valentine's nervousness, the conversation just flows. He learns that she loves to read, is really jealous when in a relationship and quite materialistic. They both love the same type of music, and for the longest time they get lost in conversations about old bands from the 60s and 70s.
"Wait, you were actually at Summer of Soul?"
"It was never called that, you know," Helena laughs. "But yeah, I was in Harlem that summer. It was fantastic, and hot, and so hard to keep your fangs in check with 300 000 beating hearts surrounding you. I swear I heard them over the beat. Lilith must have been the only white woman in Harlem, but damn she saved me from losing control."
"Lilith Vatore? She sired you?" Valentine asked. "Were you..."
"Go ahead, you can ask, and yeah we were. For about a decade or so, but she enjoyed the free love vibe of the time more than I did. Made for a lot of arguments, a lot of making up sex, and in the end too much heartbreak to handle. Lilith just can't be tied down, you know, it wasn't right for her, and the free love stuff, no jealousy, I had enough of it. Some say your emotion dampens when you're reborn, but that's not true for me. The intensity, the sensory overload... everything is crisper, stronger. Passion, hate, jealousy... all of it."
"But a decade?"
"Is not that long when you live forever," Helena says softly. "No need to get hung up on something that ended fifty years ago."
"Well, when you say it like that."
"Hey, look whose come to see who is invading his house," Helena interrupted, gesturing to the cat that walked in. "Meet Ozzi. And have no doubt, you need his approval to be in his house."
Valentine does his best to be liked by the little cat. Ozzi smells him, seems to accept him, and heads for the kitchen and his food bowl.
"That's about as much approval as anyone gets," Helena says with a smile.
The rest of the night they keep speaking about music, about artists, and dance to some of the fantastic old recods that Helena own.
"What is that Jimi Hendrix's actual signature?"
"Yeah, we moved in the same crowd for a while, but that scene really wasn't my jam. Too much drinking, too much drugs, too much of everything, while also dealing with all the stuff that comes from being a vampire. Couldn't handle, so I walked away. I did get some rare beauties like that from it though."
Amazed, and slightly in awe, Valentine wonders what it is that makes someone as cool as Helena even remotely interested in him. But he can't deny that she's flirting with him, a lot, and while he doesn't understand it, he has no intention of not taking the chance when he has it, so as he's about to leave early in the morning hours before the sun is up, he leans in an kiss her.
As he pulls away, Helena wraps her arms around him. "Oh honey, you call that a kiss? I'll show you what a kiss should be." And then she does.
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