Chapter 10: Say Yes

Something loud assaulted my ears, causing me to stir in bed. My bleary eyes blinked open, squinting against the light of day. I must have forgotten to close the blinds when I got in last night. The noise sounded out again, an annoyingly bright chiming sound.

I’d never heard that sound before, and I didn’t know what to make of it. It sounded like it came from all around me, like someone smacking a tiny bell all throughout my apartment.

“Asmo!” I could hear someone calling my name from far away. Then, three loud thumps sounded out from my front door.

I grunted in annoyance. Immortals didn’t usually bother me this early in the morning, and it felt strange they’d go out of their way like this. Then my mind caught up to me with a sudden realization— it must be Zophie.

For one tiny second, my heart skipped a beat, but then cold reality washed over me. I’d have to tell her to go away today. The odd, high-pitched, but extremely loud, bell rang throughout the apartment again, prompting me to throw off the sheets and crawl out of bed.

Fighting off both my initial reaction of annoyance and the following dread, I managed to throw on some clothes and blink away any residual tiredness. This would be a conversation I needed to be fully present for.

“ASMO!” Her voice through the front door came much louder this time, followed by the bell chiming constantly, over and over. I could feel my brow twitch.

“Quit that!” I shouted back, unable to restrain my anger. Then, still yelling but without any heat, I added, “I’m coming!”

Finally, the incessant ringing and knocking stopped, leaving me free to rub the strain out of my temples. I let out a harsh breath, trying to compose myself before I reached the door. Once I did reach it, I unlocked it and put my hand against the knob. Taking one last breath to finish composing myself, I opened it.

Zophie’s bright, dazzling eyes drew me in right away, a smile dancing across her lips. She gave me a quick little wave before barging right inside. “Hi Asmo! Did you sleep well? Hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I spoke with a half-defeated voice. “Yes, you did wake me up. It’s fine. Anyway,” I quickly moved the subject forward. Zophie was already rummaging about in the kitchen like she owned the place. “We need to talk.”

Zophie froze right where she was, bent over, hands halfway inside a cupboard. “Um, okay? It can probably wait until after breakfast, though, right?” she asked with false hope.

“No, it can’t wait. In fact, I don’t think you need to stay here long for this.”

“Oh, so it’s that.” She let out a soft sigh. “What did I do wrong?” she pleaded.

“You didn’t,” I was quick to deny, “You’re the moral—” I hesitated, almost saying ‘mortal’, “person I’ve ever met. It’s just not safe for you in my life.”

“That’s… what? Why wouldn’t I be safe?” She finally turned around, meeting my eyes and shaking her head, “No, that doesn’t matter. I’m responsible for my own safety, Asmo, and I want to be here. Tell me where this is coming from; why are you saying this stuff?”

“It’s… look—"

While I was trying to figure out what to say, Zophie interrupted me, “Are you mad that I went through your food last time? I did feel guilty about that,” she admitted, “but I thought it was fine since you were so insistent that I eat.” I could see how uncomfortable she was: the way she hesitated between sentences; the way she fidgeted with her fingers and adjusted her footing.

None of that bothered me. “No, stop that. It’s not you—”

“Asmo,” she interrupted again, “you can’t do that line. The whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ bologna. We’re not even dating yet!”

“Yet? Wha—” My heart stuttered, a flicker of something stirring in my chest—hope, maybe, or longing. I shook my head, shoving the reaction down. She meant it as a joke, nothing more, but the word lingered in my mind. “Look, be serious. I’m trying to tell you it’s not safe here for you.” Why was this so hard to get through? I could feel my chest tightening as the conversation dragged on.

She straightened and quit fidgeting, her ocean-blue eyes searching mine, a flicker of hurt beneath her forced smile. The sight twisted something in my gut— I wasn’t used to caring, hell, I barely remembered how. Yet, I hated how much it hurt to see her like this. “And I’m saying that what you’re saying doesn’t make any sense!” She actually yelled at me a bit near the end there. Flinching from her own tone, Zophie quickly continued, “Sorry for yelling. I just, really really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together so far and I don’t get what you’re saying.”

“Look, you want an explanation, right?” How should I explain this? “When Michael dropped by the other day, he helped me put a few things into perspective. The kind of life we live, the people we associate with, it’s not something you want to be a part of. Michael… he’s not someone you cross. If he sees you as a threat to our way of life, he won’t hesitate to act—and I can’t always be with you to stop him.”

My words hung in the air for a moment, Zophie looking at me with furrowed brows.

“Are you in a gang?”

Her words made me recoil. “Of course not!” I’d never associate with such moral depravity, let alone the kinds of mortals who joined gangs. It hurt to realize she might think that.

“Then it’s fine!”

“No, it’s not fine. Look— we can’t continue this, this being friends. It just won’t, it doesn’t work.”

For the first time ever, I saw genuine anger on Zophie’s face, her cheeks blushing red. “You don’t get to one-sidedly decide if we can be friends or not, Asmo. I have a say in it, too! And I want to be your friend. Don’t you dare say we can’t be friends…” Her voice settled, mostly a mumble by the end as she looked down. Angry, betrayed tears began to stream down her face. “Can, can we just do something fun together?” She hiccupped, rubbing at her eyes, “I don’t like feeling like this.”

Watching those tears mar her cheeks, leaving trails of bitter salt… I felt conflicted for the first time in many, many years. The weight of time seemed to take a bite out of me as I confronted it, emotions opening inside of me that I didn’t even remember existed.

She continued to hiccup, staring at me with red eyes, waiting for me to say something.

I swallowed. “I—” I raised my hands in the air, as if to explain something with them. Instead, they felt useless. Clenching my jaw, I moved my eyes away from Zophie and down to the left. I wanted to protect her, but here she was crying. Not just crying, but crying over me. I thought I had nothing to give her, but she obviously didn’t see it that way.

How was I supposed to protect her? All that I had done was make her cry. “Zophie,” I ground out between clenched teeth. “I haven’t done anything for you. We barely met a few days ago. What does it matter if I ask you to leave now?” I still couldn’t look at her.

Something hot and sharp flashed across my left cheek. It didn’t hurt so much as surprise me. It took me a moment to register what had happened, but when I looked at her again, I knew she’d slapped me. And yet, for some reason, the slap didn’t register as a sin.

“Don’t be stupid!” she shouted, still crying. “Look how much pain you’re in; I can see it! Your body language, the way you won’t even look me in the eye! You feel ashamed, Asmo. Anyone could see it.”

The shadows around us became unstable, and I had to clamp down hard before Zophie could notice. I could practically feel her words carving through centuries of indifference.

“I normally don’t become this invested; you’re right that it’s only been a few days. But there’s something different about you!” Zophie continued, “I— I’m drawn to you like the threads of fate are pulling me toward you. It’s…” she let out a huff, “it’s hard to explain, but it’s definitely there. I want to be around you! Ever since we met, my life’s gotten better somehow. Forgot about the random, tangential things that have happened: my landlady retired and passed things on to her son, who actually gave me more time to pay rent; suddenly, I was able to hold a job again; I can pay for food! No, that could be explained as coincidence.” She stepped forward, putting the same hand that had slapped me against my cheek, gently this time. It felt warm and soft. I didn’t pull away, even though I told myself I needed to.

“It’s about all the other things I’ve glimpsed by spending time with you: being around someone who actually gives back— I enjoy giving too, y’know?” she said genuinely, “But you’re the first person who doesn’t just one-sidedly take; you have fun spending time with me. I can tell that I annoy you sometimes, but you never get mad about it! I felt like we connected in some way, Asmo,” she said, reaching for me with her voice. “Don’t you feel that way too?”

I wanted to say yes. Something deep inside me begged for me to say yes. As I stared into her eyes, her hand on my cheek, I tried to figure out what to say.