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Chapter Text

Chapter 1 - Forbidden

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rhythmic drops from the sky. Her fingers gently traced my face, tucking a few stray, wet strands behind my ear as we stood entwined, bodies pressed close under the midnight rain. Despite the coolness of her touch, a surge of warmth flooded through my veins.

“Throughout my existence, I’ve never been more sure,” I whispered back, my voice soft but certain. My gaze locked onto hers, those mesmerizing golden eyes, deep and filled with emotions I was only beginning to understand. My hand drifted up slowly, fingertips brushing lightly across her lips, causing her to smile—a smile that made my heart stutter. The delicate curve of her dimple caught my attention, drawing me in deeper, while her intoxicating scent filled the air between us, drowning out everything else. 

I wanted her. No—needed her. Every part of her.

And in the blink of an eye, we were no longer in the rain. I gasped as I found myself pinned against the cold, hard wall, her unexpected strength always catching me off guard. Her eyes roamed over me, the golden hue darkening as something primal appeared. She bit her lower lip, an unmistakable hunger flashing across her face before she leaned in. 

Without warning, her lips captured mine in a kiss so fierce, so consuming, that all thoughts of purity, of caution, vanished. All that remained was her— her taste, her raw intensity pulling me deeper and I needed more. A lot more.

Her kiss deepened, filled with a hunger that made my head spin. The wall behind me felt cold against my back, a stark contrast to the heat between us. My hands found her waist, pulling her closer, needing to feel her body pressed against mine. She moaned softly into my mouth, and it was like fuel to a fire that was already blazing out of control.

Just like mine, her hands roamed my body, fingers curling into the fabric as she tugged impatiently at my clothes, desperate to strip away any barrier between us. I fumbled with her shirt, my fingers trembling as I pulled it over her head. Her bare skin met mine, the coolness of her body against mine was like nothing I had ever felt before. She pressed her forehead against mine, both of us panting, and for a moment, time seemed to still. 

But just as quickly, the intensity returned. She laid me down onto her bed, her eyes burning with desire as she hovered over me. My heart raced as she claimed me, her movements urgent, needy, afraid the moment would slip away. My body arched beneath her as I surrendered completely, letting her guide me into the fire.

But then, something shifted. The frantic pace slowed, and her gaze softened, the hunger still there but now tinged with something deeper—something tender. Her lips found mine again, her hands moved gently over my skin, as if she wanted to savor every moment, every inch. 

Her fingers laced with mine, pressing my hand above my head, while her free hand brushed gently over my cheek. As our bodies moved together in that slow, intimate rhythm, I could feel the tension building deep inside me, each touch pushing me closer to the edge. My breath came in shallow gasps, and I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, the pleasure so overwhelming I could barely think.

Then, just as I was about to fall over the edge, I felt it—sharp, sudden, a prick on my neck. My eyes flew open in shock, but the sensation wasn't painful. It was a jolt, a mixture of surprise and something so intensely pleasurable that my body responded instantly.

A wave of electric pleasure coursed through me, more powerful than anything I'd ever felt before, as if the bite had unlocked something between us. Flashes of her past life rushed into my mind—memories of a world filled with darkness and light, love and loss. I saw her, not just as she was now, but as she had been. I could feel her pain, her longing, her love.

The connection between us was overwhelming and it only intensified the pleasure. The raw power of her bite, the way her lips sealed against my neck, was both intimate and possessive. She was claiming me.

The intensity of it sent me spiraling. I cried out, the sound lost in the haze of the moment, as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me. My body convulsed under hers, the feeling of her fangs in my neck pushing me beyond anything I had ever experienced. And in that moment, I knew—I was hers. Forever.

—- 

My name is Freen, an angel bound by duty to guard the gate that separates the human world from the mystic realm—a realm teeming with creatures that humans only read in books. For centuries, I’ve stood watch over this threshold, tasked with ensuring that the two worlds never collide. It’s a responsibility I carry with pride, but being an angel isn’t as glorious as some might think.

Day after day, I witness the fleeting beauty of the human experience—their lives, their love, their heartbreaks. From my post, I see them living with such passion, such intensity, and I can’t help but envy them. As an angel, love is something I observe but never partake in. It’s a bittersweet existence, knowing that while I am eternal, I’ll never feel what they do.

One day, everything changed.

It was a routine disturbance—a clan of legacy vampires, determined to cross the gate. I was sent to stop them, and it should have been like any other mission. But that’s when I saw her. Becky.  

The moment our eyes met, something inside me shifted. She was nothing like the humans I’d long envied, yet her presence consumed my thoughts in ways I couldn’t explain. A vampire—dark, powerful, forbidden—yet I was drawn to her like gravity, and for the first time in my existence, I felt something stir in the depths of my soul. Something dangerous. Something I was never meant to feel. Suppose to feel.

After that first meeting, something unexpected began to happen. She started coming to the gate—alone, without her clan. At first, she kept her distance, curious but cautious. Her visits were sporadic at first, just a fleeting presence on the other side, watching me in silence. She never attempted to break the rules. She simply… lingered.

Focusing on my duty, I paid her no mind. An angel wasn’t supposed to engage with a creature like her, much less entertain the idea of any kind of relationship. But as the years passed, her visits became more frequent, and her gaze less cautious, filled with something that intrigued me more than I wanted to admit. Decades went by, and each time she came, I found it harder to resist her presence.

Eventually, I found myself giving in. One night, as the moon hung high, I broke my silence and spoke to her for the first time. Over the next several decades, we got to know each other, piece by piece. We talked about our worlds, our duties, our lives—vastly different, yet somehow not as distant as I’d once thought. She was unlike any vampire I’d encountered, and I began to see beyond the darkness that surrounded her. There was something beneath the surface, a depth I hadn’t expected. 

What neither of us anticipated was what would grow between us. What started as curiosity evolved into something much deeper, something neither of us fully understood at first. 

Love. 

It was a foreign concept to both of us. For me, it was forbidden, something angels were meant to observe but never feel. For her, it was dangerous, a weakness in a world where strength was everything. But it didn’t matter. The more time we spent together, the more we realized that what we shared was undeniable. It wasn’t just a fleeting passion or a curiosity fulfilled. It was love—intense, forbidden, and all-consuming. And with that love came consequences we couldn’t yet foresee.

Everything between Becky and I had been building to that moment—the night when the tension, the stolen glances, and the forbidden touches finally gave way to something we could no longer deny. It was late, the air heavy with an unspoken need, and the world around us seemed to blur into nothingness. Time didn’t matter. Only she did. 

That night, we became one. We crossed the line we had danced around for so long. Becky wasn’t supposed to bite me. She knew the risks, and I did too. But in the heat of that moment, as our bodies moved together, she couldn’t hold back. Neither could I. The bite connected us in a way that words never could, her life force merging with mine. 

Now back at my post, I found myself smiling. Tracing my fingers over the place on my neck where her fangs had pierced me, the mark fading just as quickly as it had appeared. 

“We’re not hurting anyone,” I whispered to myself, feeling a warmth in my chest. No one needed to know. What we had was ours.

But as if the universe had heard my thoughts, the air suddenly shifted. Before I could react, two familiar figures appeared before me—Nam and Heng, fellow angels. Their faces were etched with worry, eyes flickering between me and each other. 

Nam’s eyes never left mine as she spoke, her tone a mix of authority and sorrow. “Freen, we need to ask you something, and we expect the truth. Have you formed a relationship with a forbidden creature?”

My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of her question hitting me like a blow. But I couldn’t admit to what we’d done—not to them. Not now. So, I forced the words out, steady and cold, trying to maintain the façade I’d built for centuries.

“No such thing exists,” I said firmly, my voice betraying no emotion. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Why am I being questioned?”

Heng, who had been standing silently to the side, took a step forward, his brow furrowing in disappointment. “Freen, you don’t need to lie. We know why we were sent here. Word has already spread that you’ve crossed a line you shouldn’t have.”

Nam’s face softened, but the concern in her eyes remained. “Freen, we’re not here to judge you. But we’re here because there are consequences for breaking the rules, and you’ve broken a very big one.”

I felt a wave of panic rise inside me, but I clenched my fists, trying to keep control. “Consequences? For what?” I snapped, my voice a little too sharp. “I’ve done my duty. I’ve protected the gate, kept the worlds separate like I always have.”

Heng's voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the seriousness behind his words. “Then prove it. Flex your wings.”

My eyes flickered in confusion, and I hesitated, glancing between them. “My wings? How does that prove anything?”

Nam’s expression grew more concerned, but there was an urgency in her tone. “Please, Freen. Just do it. Show us.”

I was reluctant, unsure of what they were trying to prove, but I complied. Closing my eyes, I stretched my wings out, feeling the familiar sensation of them expanding behind me. The same wings that had carried me for centuries, pure and pristine, a symbol of my place among the angels.

But when I opened my eyes, I was met with a sight that shattered my world.

The wings I’d known for eons were gone—replaced by dark, midnight black feathers streaked with glimmers of gold. I stared at them, wide-eyed, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. My once-pure white wings, a reflection of my angelic soul, were now tainted. They hung heavy behind me, dark and ominous.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. 

Nam’s voice was soft, almost mournful. “Do you understand now, Freen? This isn’t just about duty. Your soul has been touched by darkness.”

I shook my head, still unable to speak, the reality crashing down on me. How could I have let this happen? But the evidence was right in front of me—my wings, once a symbol of purity, now bore the mark of my action.

“Because you fell in love with a forbidden creature,” Heng continued, his eyes sharp but tinged with regret, “your soul has been altered. You allowed her darkness to pierce into you when she bit you, when you chose to let her into your heart. You’ve tainted your very essence, Freen.”

I stepped back, my wings folding behind me as I stared at them in disbelief. “No… no, but I love her. We didn’t do anything—” But I stopped myself. I’d crossed that line, fallen into a love that was never meant to exist.

Nam’s eyes softened with sympathy, but her voice was firm. “Your wings will be clipped. You’ve lost the right to bear them until you’ve earned them back. And… as part of your punishment, you are never to see her again. You will be stripped of every memory of her.”

I felt my chest tighten as panic clawed at my throat. “No,” I whispered, taking a step forward. “No, please. You don’t have to do that. She’s… she’s everything to me. Don’t take her away.”

Heng’s face was unreadable, but I could see the weight of his words as he spoke. “It’s already decided, Freen. We’re just here to do as we’re told. As an angel, you were forbidden from engaging with a creature like her. Now, you’ll be banished.”

“Banished?” My voice cracked as I felt the ground crumbling beneath me. “Where? Where will you send me?”

Nam’s voice was gentle, but it didn’t soften the blow. “You’ll be sent to Earth. You’ll live among humans, but not as the angel you were. You’ll be tasked with helping humans—couples—find their way back to love.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “So, I’ll help them find love… but I’ll never be able to feel it again?”

Nam nodded, sadness in her eyes. “Yes. It’s part of your punishment. You’ll spend an eternity guiding others toward love, and depending on you, one day you’ll get your wings back. But every trace of her, every memory of what you shared… will be erased.”

The air left my lungs in a rush, and I stumbled back, my hands shaking. The thought of never remembering her, of forgetting the way her touch felt, the way she made me feel alive—it was unbearable. 

“No… no, I can’t lose her. Please, don’t do this,” I begged, my voice breaking as tears burned in my eyes.

Nam stepped forward, her expression pained but resolute. “Freen, it’s too late. You made your choice. You should have known better.”

I looked at Heng, searching for any sign of leniency, but his face remained stern, as if the weight of this judgment was as hard for him as it was for me. Nam’s words hung in the air like a death sentence. I felt everything—the weight of their judgment, the reality of what was about to happen—crashing down around me. My wings, my memories, everything that had made me who I was, was going to be taken away and I can’t do anything about it.

As I stood there, numb, I felt a strange sensation begin to crawl up my spine. It was subtle at first, like a coldness creeping into my bones. But then, it intensified, spreading through my body, wrapping itself around me like a suffocating blanket. My wings began to twitch uncontrollably from behind. I gasped, my breath hitching as I looked over my shoulder.

They were disintegrating before my eyes.

Feather by feather, the darkened feathers, streaked with gold, began to dissolve into nothingness. With each piece that disappeared, I felt a piece of myself go with them, like shards of my soul being ripped away. I reached back, desperate to hold onto them, my hands trembling as I tried to stop what was happening. But it was useless. My fingers passed through the air where my wings once were, now just wisps of fading light, vanishing into the ether.

“No… no, please…” My voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. I turned to Nam and Heng, my eyes wild with desperation. “Don’t take them from me. Don’t take her from me. Please…”

But their faces, though etched with sadness, were resolute. And then, the memories began to fade. It was like someone had reached into my mind and started pulling pieces out, one by one. The first time I saw Becky—the way her golden eyes had pierced through me—the nights we’d spent talking at the gate, laughing, getting to know each other. All of it, disappearing. I fought to hold onto the memories, clawing at them in my mind, but they slipped away like sand through my fingers.

Her touch. Her smile. The way her lips felt against mine that night. Gone .

“No!” I screamed, collapsing to the ground, my tears blurring my vision. My wings, now entirely gone, left only a faint tingling on my back. I was hollow. Empty . The weight of my guilt, my heartbreak, crushed me, pulling me down until I couldn’t breathe.

I tried to reach for her in my mind, tried to summon her face, her name—but it was slipping away. She was slipping away. I sobbed, the sound broken. My wings folded behind me for the last time, only now they were invisible, no longer there to comfort me, no longer a reminder of who I once was. I was nothing but a fallen angel—stripped of my identity, my purpose, and the love that had been everything to me.

Nam’s voice broke through the haze of my despair, soft yet unyielding. “It’s over, Freen. This is the consequence. Your choice has cost you your wings, your place here with the others.”

I looked up, tears streaming down my face. Darkness began to swirl around me, pulling me under. I felt the ground vanish beneath me as I was sucked into the void, my vision blurring into shadows and fragments of memories I could no longer grasp. The weight of my punishment settled deep into my bones as the world I had known for centuries dissolved into nothingness.

I could feel myself being pulled downward. The next moment, I was standing on Earth.

I didn’t remember how I had gotten there—one moment, I was lost in that darkness, and the next, I was here. The world around me was unfamiliar, foreign, yet something inside me told me this was now my home. My new reality.

I felt… lighter, like something had been taken from me. But I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. My mind was hazy, as if parts of it had been wiped clean. My new duty awaited me. Eternity stretched out before me, and I was now tasked with helping humans—couples—find their love again, a love I would never feel for myself. A bitter irony that would haunt me for the rest of time.

I looked up at the sky, tears still wet on my cheeks, but now there was nothing left to say. I was Freen, the fallen angel, and my eternity had just begun.

—-

Becky stood at the gate, her golden eyes scanning the empty horizon, waiting for a glimpse of Freen. It had been days—no, weeks—since she last saw Freen. 

But now, the gate remained still. No sign of Freen. No explanation for her absence.

Becky’s heart clenched in her chest. She had come to this place every night, hoping, praying that the beautiful angel she had fallen for would return. Freen had always been here, guarding the barrier between their worlds, and they had spent decades talking, growing closer, sharing stolen moments under the stars. Freen had made her feel alive in a way she never thought possible, filling the cold eternity of a vampire’s existence with warmth. 

But now, she is gone .

At first, Becky convinced herself that Freen was simply occupied, fulfilling her duties. Angels had responsibilities, after all, and Becky knew Freen took her role seriously. So, she waited. Days turned into nights, and Becky would stand by the gate, gazing into the distance, convinced Freen would appear. Each time the sun set, Becky’s heart would skip, expecting to see the angel’s familiar figure approaching. 

But each night, her hope dimmed a little more. Weeks passed, and Freen still hasn't returned. Becky’s heart began to twist with something darker than longing. Doubt crept into her thoughts, poisoning the memories of their love. Had it all been a lie? she wondered, her mind spiraling. Had Freen abandoned her?

She replayed their last moments together over and over again in her mind. The rain, the passion, the way Freen had melted into her arms, the kiss they shared. Becky had even marked her, sinking her fangs into Freen’s delicate neck, claiming her in a way she never thought possible. They were bound now, connected beyond flesh. So why wasn’t she here?

Anger began to bubble beneath the surface. Did Freen regret it? Had the angel come to realize that loving a creature like Becky was a mistake? The thought twisted like a knife in her chest. Becky had never known such vulnerability until she met Freen, had never opened herself to the idea of love, of something as human as affection. Freen had changed her, made her feel like she could be more than just a legacy vampire, more than just a creature of darkness.

But now, it all felt like a cruel joke. 

Standing at the gate, her fists clenched, Becky’s once-gentle gaze hardened. She had waited too long, given too much of herself, only to be left standing alone. The love she had given, the trust she had placed in Freen—it felt like it had been thrown away, discarded. The hurt festered inside her, growing colder with each passing night that Freen didn’t return. To think an angel could ever truly love someone like m e, She thought bitterly.

In the back of her mind, she clung to the tiniest shred of hope, but that hope was slowly being swallowed by her anger and sorrow. She wanted to believe that something had happened, that Freen hadn’t chosen to forget her, but how could she, when all she had was silence? Becky’s golden eyes, once soft with love, now gleamed with cold resolve. The softness that had blossomed within her—the vulnerability—would be buried deep, hidden away, never to surface again. 

With one last glance at the gate, Becky turned her back on it, her heart heavy. Whatever love she had given was gone, and with it, the last shred of her humanity.

—- 

Earth Present Day

“Hi Steve and Judy, my name is Dr. Chankimha but you can call me Freen.” Sitting with my notepad on my lap, I smiled at the couple before me. “Let’s talk about your relationship…” I said before we started our session for the day. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Forgotten

Creature World - present day.

"A little birdie told me you were back, but I didn’t believe it until now," a dark figure murmured as Becky stepped into her house.

“Do you make a habit of entering where you’re not welcome?” Becky’s voice was cold, her gaze fixed elsewhere as if his presence hardly warranted her attention.

“Come on, Bec. We’re family.” He stepped forward, his lips curling into a cynical smile.

“Just because we share the same curse doesn’t make us family,” Becky replied, finally casting a glance at his pale, expressionless face.

“Ouch. Almost hurt my feelings, B.” He laughed, a mocking sound that echoed in the quiet room. “But enough with the pleasantries. I’m here because the council has summoned you tonight.” His tone shifted, turning dark and serious. "I’d suggest you make an appearance."

With that, he brushed past her, leaving nothing but a chill in the air and a whisper of his presence before vanishing as quickly as he’d arrived.

Becky let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of the years settle heavily on her shoulders. It had been so long since she’d set foot here, and yet, standing in the familiar shadows, there was only an eerie sense of hollowness. No nostalgia, no pang of belonging—just an empty silence. She realized with a grim sort of amusement that she’d likely perfected the art of smothering her humanity; flicking off that switch.

But duty called her back, or rather, the ruthless demand of the elders. They hadn’t just summoned her—they’d threatened her. As a legacy vampire, her power was undeniable, and she’d carved out a reputation that kept most enemies at bay. But even she knew there were those in the shadows who held unimaginable power, ancient vampires who had shed any semblance of fairness centuries ago. And, of course, they knew exactly how to manipulate her.

Becky’s jaw clenched as she recalled the message they’d sent. The elders hadn’t just beckoned; they forced it by involving her closest friend—the one person left she might still care about. They’d used him as bait, knowing it was the only way to ensure her compliance. The only thing that boggles her mind is why. What is it that they want? They usually left her alone so why the summon now?

Becky took a steadying breath, pushing aside her unease for now. She was home , and whatever awaited her, she needed to be prepared to face it. Setting down her things, she methodically began changing into the dark, formal attire expected for such a gathering. The familiar fabric clung to her like armor, a subtle reminder of the vampire she was expected to be. With one last glance at herself, she steeled her expression and prepared to make her presence known.

Becky moved silently down the dimly lit corridor, her heels echoing softly against the polished stone floor. She passed countless faces, other vampires she’d once interacted with, figures that had once been familiar but were now little more than strangers. Their glances flickered over her, some surprised, others indifferent, yet she didn’t spare a single one a second look. She wasn’t here to reconnect or reminisce. She was here because she had been summoned, and she had no intention of lingering longer than necessary.

The hallway opened into the vast main hall, its ceiling stretching high into shadowed arches. There, at the far end, the elders sat upon their thrones, watching her with expressions carefully crafted to appear warm and inviting. She came to a stop before them, hands at her sides, and waited, silent and unreadable, for them to acknowledge her.

"Welcome back, Becky," one elder purred, his lips curving into a calculated smile. “We’ve missed you.”

Another chimed in, her tone falsely sweet, “It’s been far too long, child.”

Becky’s eyes narrowed. “Why am I here?”

The elders shared a knowing look before one of them finally leaned forward, their gaze sharper now, all pretense slipping. “Still don’t like small talk I see.” he snickered before continuing, “Very well then. We were told by the others that somehow, you managed to go past the gate… to the human world,” he said slowly, his voice laced with suspicion. “We’d like to know how.”

"I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Becky replied, her voice cold and detached.

One of the elders smirked, a gleam of cruelty lighting his eyes. “We thought you’d say that…” He flicked his fingers, gesturing to someone in the shadows.

In the next instant, her friend Ted was dragged forward, bound in heavy chains, a wooden spike protruding from his chest. Becky’s eyes widened, the first and only crack in her stoic demeanor that night.

“Don’t worry,” the elder purred, savoring her reaction. “He’s not dead… yet. That all depends on you, of course. Care to share your secret with us?”

“There’s no secret!” Becky’s voice was sharp, but her gaze flickered to Ted, heart clenching. “I don’t know how it happened. I haven’t been able to do it again,” she lied, trying to keep her voice steady, her emotions buried.

“You might be a legacy, but don’t forget who raised you.” The elder with glistening skin spoke sternly, her eyes piercing through the dim light.

Becky turned to face the vampire she had once called mother. Her jaw clenched, but she said nothing.

“Don’t lie to me, Becky.” The woman stepped closer, fangs flashing as she spoke, her tone laced with icy command.

From the shadows, another figure emerged—a tall, dark-haired vampire with a familiar intensity in his eyes. “Why can’t you think of your own kind, Bec? We’ve been trapped here for an eternity, prisoners in our own world. We should be free to live beyond those gates,” her brother said, his voice simmering with resentment.

“Prisoners?” Becky’s voice sharpened, a flicker of anger breaking through her steely exterior. “We’re the most powerful beings here. You rule this world, all of you. And there’s a reason we’re kept here. You just want to dominate the human world, to challenge the angels and everything they protect.” This was the first time since that day that she’s spoken about angels.

A thin smile played on her mother’s lips. “Always the smart one,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to be smart to see how cruel we’ve become,” Becky replied, her voice softer, a sliver of bitterness slipping through. It was a truth she knew, one she had seen in herself too, and it echoed painfully through her.

“Or maybe you just want to rule the human world alone,” her brother taunted, a cruel glint in his eyes as he bared his fangs. “Always so selfish.”

Becky felt her temper flare, and her own fangs slipped into view. “If refusing to be part of this family makes me selfish, then so be it. I won’t help you with whatever twisted plan you’ve conjured up,” she spat back.

“You really don’t care about your friend, do you?” the elder woman sneered, appearing beside Ted in a flash. Her hand settled on the wooden spike embedded in his chest, and she slowly pressed down, savoring the pain it caused. Ted’s scream echoed in the hall, raw and agonizing, and Becky lurched forward, only to be seized by several vampires who held her back.

Fury surged through her veins, and with a raw burst of strength, she broke free from their grip, nearly matching the strength of an elder. But she was too late. As she reached him, Ted’s body crumbled into ash, scattering before her eyes.

Becky’s gaze dropped to the ashes, fighting to keep her expression cold, but inside, fury boiled over. Her eyes glowed a fierce, unearthly white, her fangs exposed in a snarl. She was ready to strike, prepared to unleash everything she had on the vampires before her. But before she could move, a blinding light flooded the dark hall, piercing through the shadows and sending everyone scrambling for cover.

In the next instant, she felt an iron grip around her waist, a strange force lifting her out of the room. Then, with a dizzying flash, she was gone. When the light faded, she found herself somewhere else entirely.

The space around her felt unsettlingly familiar, as if she had stepped into it countless times before. Becky’s senses were on high alert as she scanned her surroundings, her every instinct sharpened. At the sound of footsteps behind her, she spun around, defensive, only to see two strangers approaching her.

“Who are you, and why did you bring me here?” she demanded, her voice laced with suspicion.

“I’m Nam, and this is Heng,” the woman answered calmly, gesturing to her companion. “We’re angels… and friends of Freen.”

At the mention of that name, a sharp pain stabbed through Becky’s chest. She had spent years looking away any thought of Freen, burying every memory as deep as she could. But hearing it spoken aloud stirred emotions she’d fought to suppress, unsettling her in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I don’t know who that is,” she replied coldly, refusing to let any hint of her inner turmoil show.

“You don’t have to lie to us, Becky. We know about you two. That’s why we’re here.” Heng’s calm gaze held steady as he spoke. “Something is happening, and we need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to discuss. I don’t associate with your kind, or any kind,” Becky snapped, her guard going up further. The last thing she wanted was to engage with angels.

Nam stepped forward, undeterred. “Are you sure? We know about the night you crossed the gate. You encountered a human… and chose to save them. You’re not as heartless as you pretend to be.”

Becky’s eyes narrowed. “How could you know that?” she demanded, curiosity prying its way through her defenses.

“We’ve been keeping tabs on you ever since—” Heng began, only for Nam to quickly cut him off.

“We’re tasked to monitor any disturbances between worlds,” Nam explained. “We saw you save that kid.”

Flashback

Freen had been missing for days, her absence gnawing at Becky’s thoughts, so one night, overwhelmed by a relentless pull, Becky accidentally slipped into the human world, not knowing how it was possible. The city streets were quiet and desolate, dim street lights casting long shadows across wet concrete as she wandered aimlessly through the unfamiliar world.

As she moved down an empty street, a scream shattered the silence. Becky froze, looking ahead to see a small figure struggling against a man who held a gun. She had no business meddling in human affairs. But something in the way the kid looked—wide, desperate eyes filled with fear—struck a nerve. Something about that innocence, that vulnerability, reminded her painfully of Freen.

Then, with a loud crack, a gunshot fired, and the man fled, disappearing into the shadows. Becky watched, torn, but the kid’s strangled cry echoed through her chest, anchoring her in place. Her instincts kicked in, and she moved, her speed a blur as she caught up to the man, yanking him back with a force that left him barely conscious as she bound him to a nearby pole. Without a second thought, she raced back to the child who lay crumpled, blood seeping across their shirt.

The wound was bad—too deep, too close to the heart. The child’s breaths came in shallow gasps, each one weaker than the last. Without time to think, Becky bit her wrist, blood welling as she pressed it to the child’s mouth, her own panic flooding through her as the child’s lips parted and accepted the mixture. Becky knew this wasn’t how things were supposed to work, that saving a human like this was unheard of. But the kid was fading fast, and the desperation in her made it impossible to watch them slip away.

Then something happened that she hadn’t expected: the wound on the child’s chest began to glow, a faint, golden light emanating from it as the injury sealed itself up, leaving only a faint scar where the bullet had entered. This wasn’t how vampires healed, and it definitely wasn’t what she expected from turning a human. Confused but relieved, Becky lifted the child and carried them to the nearest hospital, waiting in the shadows until a nurse found the kid and learned her name: Lily.

Satisfied that Lily would be safe, Becky slipped back into the night, never expecting to see her again. But the memory of the child’s face—her fear, her courage—stayed with her, along with a feeling Becky hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge since.

End Flashback

“What do you want from me?” Becky demanded, her mind snapping back to the present.

“Nothing. We’re here to warn you,” Heng replied calmly. “When you and Freen chose to… connect,” he hesitated, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, “you created something rare. Something… divine. And no one fully understands it.”

“A what?” Becky echoed, eyes narrowing in confusion.

Nam’s gaze was serious, piercing. “Did you bite Freen?”

The memory hit Becky with startling force, her chest tightening as flashes of that night came rushing back to her. She didn’t need to answer; her reaction gave her away.

Nam sighed, her voice quiet yet firm. “That’s what I was afraid of. By biting her, the mix of your vampire blood and her angelic nature created something new within both of you. A divine energy—a blending of forces that’s unprecedented. When you saved that child years ago, you passed that divine spark onto her. But we have no idea what powers she might have inherited, or how they might manifest.”

Heng stepped forward, his tone cautious. “What you shared with Freen should have been impossible… yet it happened. And now that a new energy is stirring, people are sensing it. They’re beginning to question its source, and some will be desperate to find it. Becky, this puts all three of you in danger.”

“That’s insane…” Becky muttered, struggling to process the weight of what they were saying.

“It is,” Nam replied gently, “but we needed to warn you. We might not know you personally, but we know what you meant to Freen.” Her eyes softened. “Just… watch yourself, Becky.”

“Where is she?” Becky’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and unyielding.

Nam’s expression grew somber, a touch of sadness creeping into her gaze. “I’m sorry, Becky,” she murmured, offering a sad, almost apologetic smile. Then, in an instant, she and Heng vanished, leaving Becky alone with a thousand unanswered questions.

As Nam and Heng left into thin air, leaving only the quiet in their wake, Becky stood frozen, the weight of their words crashing over her. Her chest ached with a pain she hadn’t felt in so long, a pain she’d buried so deep it had nearly faded from memory. But now, with that single reminder of her , the agony of longing surged to the surface, and Becky’s legs gave way. She sank to the ground, clutching herself tightly, trying to hold in the flood of memories she’d so carefully tried to lock away.

She looked around, her surroundings now achingly familiar. It struck her with full force: this was where she had met Freen, the love of her eternal life. The nights they had spent here, hidden from the eyes of both their worlds, seemed to echo in the air around her. Every inch of this place held a fragment of their love, and for the first time, she let herself feel it.

The ache in her chest grew unbearable, but she couldn’t look away. She remembered Freen’s smile, the warmth of her touch, the way she looked at her with a purity that even eternity could not taint. Becky pressed her hand to her chest as if she could hold herself together against the memories now flooding her mind, each one sharper, more vivid, more painful than the last. Tears blurred her vision, and she buried her face in her hands, succumbing to a heartbreak that was centuries overdue.

Alone now, with the stars as her only witnesses, Becky wept for the love she’d lost and the questions left unanswered. And with that, the emptiness she’d been carrying for so long felt even heavier, as if a piece of her very soul had been ripped away, leaving her stranded in a world without the only person she had ever truly loved.

—-

Back at the vampire’s mansion, as the blinding light faded and the shadows returned, the other vampires cautiously emerged from their hiding places. They looked around, murmuring among themselves, searching for any sign of Becky, but she was gone.

“Did you notice her eyes before she disappeared?” one of the elders asked, her tone edged with concern. The others exchanged uneasy glances, nodding as they recalled the sight. “They weren’t golden like a legacy’s. They were pure white—bright, almost… unnatural. Something’s changed within her. We need to understand what.”

A ripple of tension passed through the room, and finally, Becky’s brother stepped forward, his expression determined. “I’ll handle it,” he offered. The elders exchanged approving nods, granting him the task with a sense of urgency.

“She’s more than just an outlier,” the elder woman murmured to the group. “She’s the key to everything.” With a final nod, she dismissed them, and the vampires dispersed, each one carrying a new and pressing fear.

—-

Earth - present day 

(Freen’s POV)

"Thank you for your help today, Dr. Chankimha," the young woman said gratefully as our session came to an end. Normally, I worked with couples together, but today Lily had asked to speak with me alone, hoping to prepare herself before her next session with her husband. I’d agreed; sometimes, it helped to have a little extra clarity.

"You can call me Freen, Lily," I said warmly. "I’m always happy to help, and I think you’re in a much better place to talk things through with Liam next week."

She smiled. "Thank you again… Freen. Can I give you a hug?"

I nodded, standing up and stepping around the coffee table toward her. She leaned in, arms wrapping around me in a gentle embrace. But suddenly, a strange sensation hit me—a surge of memories, not mine, but someone else’s. A flash of a woman’s face, then another, each image vivid and painfully intense, assaulted my mind in rapid succession. It was too much; I staggered, feeling the world tilt as the barrage of memories overwhelmed my senses. My vision darkened, and the last thing I remembered was Lily’s concerned voice calling my name as everything went black.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Forsaken

Earth - present day 

(Freen’s POV)

My vision darkened, and the last thing I remembered was Lily’s concerned voice calling my name as everything went black.

“Freen?” Lily’s voice cut through the fog in my mind, distant at first, then growing sharper. I forced my heavy eyelids open, blinking against the harsh light flooding my vision. As the world around me came into focus, I saw her hovering anxiously over me, her face a mixture of relief and concern.

“Oh my god, you're awake!” she breathed, her hands gripping my arms as if to steady me. “Do you want me to call an ambulance?” She was already reaching for her phone, her worry evident in the slight tremor of her voice.

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head as she helped me sit up on the couch. “It’s okay. I think I just... haven’t eaten yet. Probably just low blood sugar.” The lie slipped easily from my lips. No hospital could help me.

Lily hesitated, her brows furrowing. “Are you sure? You looked like you were–”

“I’m fine,” I interrupted gently, forcing a reassuring smile. “I just need to eat something after this. No need to worry, okay? I’m sorry I scared you.”

She studied me for a long moment before sighing, reluctantly nodding. “Alright… if you’re sure.” She stayed by my side a little longer, watching me carefully as if expecting me to collapse again. Eventually, she gathered her things, still hesitant to leave but respecting my insistence.

As the door clicked shut behind her, I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to my temple. What just happened? 

I racked my brain, struggling to grasp the visions that had flooded through my mind just before I blacked out. But the harder I tried to recall, the more those fleeting images slipped away—like smoke through my fingers. Nothing like this had ever happened in all my existence, and the confusion gnawed at me. I needed help making sense of it.

Reaching into my desk drawer, I pulled out a thin sheet of silver paper, its surface glinting softly under the light. I quickly wrote down the words, “Can we talk?” The ink shimmered, almost alive, and I didn’t waste a second before tossing it into the air. The paper hung there for a breathless moment, suspended unnaturally, before it dissolved and fading into nothing. 

As I waited, I busied myself with rescheduling all my appointments for the day. There was no way I could help others when my own mind was a mess. Whatever had happened to me. Whatever those flashes were, I needed to figure it out. Just as I finished typing the last cancellation email, a familiar pattern of knocks echoed through my office. Two knocks. A pause. One more. Then another.

Pushing myself up from my chair, I made my way to the door and pulled it open. And there, standing on the other side, was Nam. Her expression was unreadable. 

“It’s been a long time,” I said, offering a small, hesitant smile.

After being assigned my earthly duty, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Nam or any other angel, for that matter. I never questioned why I was sent here, why my wings were taken. Any angel would know it meant I had done something forbidden. I had accepted it without asking, without prying into a past I had no recollection of. What was the point? If my memories had been erased, they were never meant to return.

“It has,” Nam responded, her voice measured, unreadable. I stepped aside, silently inviting her in. She hesitated only for a moment before crossing the threshold. “I can’t stay long,” she added, almost apologetically.

“I figured,” I said, leading her to the couch where we both took a seat across from each other. “But I need your help.” Nam arched a brow but remained silent, waiting.

“Something happened earlier,” I continued, choosing my words carefully. “I blacked out after experiencing some intense visions. Visions that didn’t feel like my own. It was like I was seeing through someone else’s eyes. But now…now I can’t remember what I saw. The images, the emotions… it’s all gone.”

Nam’s expression barely shifted, but I caught it, a flicker of surprise, quickly masked. Not the kind of surprise that comes from hearing something unexpected, but the kind that said she knew exactly what was happening. 

“What were you doing before these visions?” Nam asked, her voice calm, too measured. She was holding something back.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” I replied, running the moment back in my mind. “I was seeing a patient and when she–” I stopped, the realization hitting me like a slow-moving wave before crashing all at once.

“When she what?” Nam’s voice sharpened, breaking through my thoughts.

“When… when she hugged me.” The words felt strange coming out, like I was piecing together a puzzle with missing parts. Could that have been it? Was I seeing her visions? But why her?

Nam tilted her head, studying me carefully. “You think she’s the reason you got the visions?” There was skepticism in her tone.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, exhaling sharply. “I’ve never had anything like this happen before.”

Nam nodded slowly, her fingers tapping lightly against her knee as she thought. “Could be a coincidence,” she mused, but I wasn’t convinced. “What’s her name? I can look into her for you.” 

I hesitated. Something about handing over Lily’s name felt… wrong. Like I’d be dragging her into something even I’m unsure of. But I needed answers. “Lily,” I finally said, watching Nam’s expression for any flicker of recognition. “Her name is Lily Armstrong.” And there it was. A tiny recognition in her eyes. It was quick but it was there. Nam knows something.

“Great. I’ll take a look,” Nam said, though her tone was unreadable. She stood up smoothly, adjusting her coat as if already preparing to vanish. “For now, don’t dwell on it too much. It could be nothing.” But we both knew better. Nothing about this felt like nothing.

I studied her carefully, noticing the way her lips pressed together, the slight crease in her brow. She was holding something back.

“I have to go,” she added, but this time, there was a softness to her voice. A small, fleeting smile appeared on her lips, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’s really good to see you again Freen.” She added. I wanted to ask her what she wasn’t telling me, but before I could, she was already turning away.

Now alone with my thoughts again, I let my mind retrace every moment of my session with Lily, analyzing the exact point when the vision overtook me. I could recall everything. Her words, her expressions, right up to the instant she wrapped her arms around me. And then… nothing . A blank space where my memories should be, replaced only by the sensation of waking up to her worried face hovering over me.

It didn’t sit right with me. This wasn’t just some passing anomaly. I needed to know what happened. But drawing too much attention to it, especially from the angels, would only complicate things. If they weren’t already watching closely, they soon would be. Nam was keeping something from me. I can feel it. I might have to find my own answers but I’ll have to do it the human way.

—-

Angel’s Garden - present day

Nam left Freen’s office with a heavy heart, wasting no time before seeking out Kirk in the Angel’s Garden. “We have a problem,” she blurted out the moment she spotted him.

Kirk turned, arching a brow at her abruptness. “Well, hello to you too,” he joked, but his smirk faded as soon as he caught the worry etched into her expression. “What’s wrong?”

Nam exhaled sharply, bracing herself. “Lily… she’s one of Freen’s patients.”

Kirk blinked, taking a second to process the name. “Who’s Lily…? Oh.” Realization dawned on his face as the pieces fell into place. “Ohhhh. That Lily.” His initial surprise turned into a bewildered chuckle. “What are the odds? Wait—how do you even know that?”

“Freen requested my presence,” Nam admitted, watching his expression shift from curiosity to alarm.

Kirk straightened. “That’s… unusual. Why?”

“I think whatever divine energy was created that night is rewriting the stars.” Nam’s voice was low, troubled. “The future we once saw? It’s shifting. And now it looks like there’s multiple outcomes and we don’t know which could be reality.”

Kirk rubbed the back of his neck, uneasy. “Did you tell her?”

“Of course not,” Nam said quickly. “We’re not allowed to. But this is bigger than we thought. Something’s happening, and for the first time, we have no way to prepare.” She hesitated before adding, “When Lily hugged Freen, she had a vision. One that completely blacked her out. She doesn’t remember what she saw, but the fact that she saw anything is alarming.”

Kirk’s concern deepened. “You think Lily is the key to bringing back Freen’s lost memories?”

Nam nodded grimly. “It’s possible. And if that happens, everything we’ve worked to protect could unravel. We still don’t know what powers Lily may have, if any. If she was altered that night… we might not be the only ones looking for her.”

Kirk clenched his jaw. “So what do we do?”

Nam sighed, the weight of their duty pressing heavily upon her. “We keep watch, but we don’t interfere unless absolutely necessary.”

Kirk looked torn, his usual easygoing nature replaced with rare frustration. “She’s our friend , Nam. Keeping her in the dark feels wrong.”

“I know.” Nam’s voice softened. “More than anything, I want to tell her. I want to hug my friend and let her remember everything. But what if it only brings her more pain? What if forgetting is the only mercy she has left?”

Kirk shook his head, a deep sadness settling over him. “It just sucks. Love shouldn’t come with this kind of punishment.”

Nam gave him a knowing look. “The price of the divine, Kirk. Nothing is ever truly perfect. Not even us. That’s the balance we maintain.”

—-

Creature world - present day

Becky spent the entire day in self-imposed isolation, pacing the dimly lit room she had retreated to, her mind a battlefield between rage and longing. The walls felt suffocating, the air too still, as if the universe itself was waiting for her to break.

She wanted to be angry. She wanted to let that familiar fury consume her and drive her forward. She wanted to storm the heavens, demand answers, and tear apart anyone who had kept Freen from her. But every time she built up that fire, something inside her softened. Something fragile and unbearably human.

No matter how much she had tried to shut it all off. Her emotions, her humanity. Freen was still the one tether that kept her from slipping into the abyss. The one thought that kept her grounded, whether she wanted it to or not. And she hated it.

She hated that even after all this time, after all the pain, after being abandoned, Freen still haunted her like a ghost that refused to fade. She hated that the angel who had left her was still the one holding her heart and mind captive. She wanted to be mad. She should be mad. But deep down, the truth was cruel and she couldn’t bring herself to hate Freen. No matter how much she wished she could.

And now, after what Nam and Heng had told her, Becky found herself grappling with something even more terrifying than her own emotions. Regret.

Had she unknowingly created something dangerous? Something unnatural? The thought of the little girl she had saved years ago weighed heavily on her now. Lily. Becky had acted on instinct that night, unable to let the child die. But what had she done to her? Had she cursed her with something unknown? With something neither vampire nor angel could control?

And if that was true… then what had she and Freen truly done that night?

The realization hit her like a vice around her chest. Was that the reason she had been able to cross the gate? Was that the reason she had been drawn to that child in the first place? The questions churned relentlessly in her mind, and for the first time in a long while, Becky felt something dangerously close to fear.

Becky didn’t know what force was pulling her or what instinct was guiding her feet, but before she even realized it, she was standing at the edge of the gate once more. The ancient, shimmering veil between worlds rippled before her, a barrier of unseen energy humming faintly in the silence of the night. It was invisible to the human eye, but to her, it was as clear as glass, stretching endlessly in both directions, separating her from the world she had sworn to leave behind.

Her chest rose and fell in measured breaths, yet her mind was anything but calm. She wasn’t sure what she needed to do. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted to do. But something inside her urged her forward. She pressed a palm to the veil, feeling the odd resistance, like a thin layer of water against her skin. Memories flashed unbidden and the last time she had stood here, the moment she had crossed over without thinking, the way her heart had pounded as she had stepped onto foreign soil.

Her mind was a chaotic storm, but one thought cut through the noise with razor-sharp clarity: Lily.

The little girl she had saved. The child she might have unknowingly cursed. The girl whose existence was probably now a dangerous secret. If anyone else found out what she had done, Lily would be in danger. And it would be all her fault. That was all Becky needed to think about before her instincts flared to life. A feral protectiveness surged through her and it didn’t matter what the consequences were. She had to protect that little girl.

Her golden eyes darkened with resolve, and with one last inhale, she stepped forward. The veil parted effortlessly around her, cool and weightless, as if recognizing her, welcoming her back into a world she had no business being in. A gust of wind rushed past her as she crossed the threshold, the sounds of the human world instantly filling the quiet void she had left behind.

But lost in her own thoughts, Becky didn’t sense it. Didn’t feel the shift in the air behind her. Didn’t hear the near-silent footsteps, shadowing her every move. A dark figure loomed in the distance, hidden within the folds of the night, watching intently as Becky moved through the gate as if she were meant to.

The figure tilted its head slightly, observing, calculating. A slow, knowing smirk curled at the corners of its lips, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. Something almost triumphant. Then, as if it had never been there at all, the shadow vanished, swallowed by the darkness.

—-

Earth - present day

Becky moved through the crowded streets, her footsteps silent against the pavement. The city was alive with energy and street vendors calling out to customers, neon signs buzzing as they flickered, couples leaning into each other with easy smiles. Laughter echoed where friends were in celebration of something as simple as a Friday night.

She hated it.

Not the city itself, nor the people who lived here, but the ease of it all. The way they laughed without worry. The way they held hands without fear of losing the one they loved. It was infuriating. Unfair. How could the universe allow them such bliss while she was abandoned in every world.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat, exhaling sharply. Focus, Becky. You’re not here for this. She wasn’t even sure where to start looking for Lily, but something in her gut told her to keep moving. And then, a thought struck her.

If what Nam and Heng said was true… if something had truly changed inside of her when she bit Freen… if a new divine force had been created… then maybe… just maybe…

Becky slowed her steps, her mind racing. Maybe there’s a connection. If she had unknowingly passed something on to Lily, then perhaps there was still a thread linking them. It was a long shot, but she had to try. Spotting a narrow alleyway, she veered off the main street, slipping into the shadows. The air was damp, the scent of rain lingering in the cracks of the brick walls. She exhaled, grounding herself as she closed her eyes.

Reaching deep into herself, she searched, not with logic, not with reason, but with something more primal. At first, there was nothing but the muffled sounds of the city and the hum of cars passing, the distant chatter of strangers, the rhythmic drip, drip, drip of water from a rusted pipe.

Then…

A heartbeat. Faint, but steady. Becky’s eyes snapped open, her breath catching in her throat. It was Lily’s heartbeat. The very same heartbeat Becky had saved all those years ago. Testing her theory, she followed the rhythm, adjusting her course with every step. The closer she got, the more clearly she could feel it like a gentle drum beating inside her own chest.

Minutes passed. The heartbeat led her down busy streets, past late-night diners and glowing storefronts. She barely noticed the people around her; they were nothing more than background noise now. And then she stopped.

There, across the street, sitting in a dimly lit bar was Lily . 

Steeling herself, Becky crossed the street and pushed open the bar door. The warmth of the room wrapped around her instantly. Conversations layered over one another, the clinking of glasses mingling with the soft strumming of a live band in the corner. Keeping to the shadows, Becky slipped onto a stool at the bar. She ordered a beer, though she had no intention of drinking it. Instead, she let her senses sharpen, focusing on Lily’s voice amidst the noise. It wasn’t difficult. Being a vampire had its perks.

Becky sat there, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her untouched beer as she observed Lily from across the room. Lily was no longer the fragile child Becky had carried in her arms years ago. She was a grown woman now, confident in her demeanor, with a presence that drew people in. But it wasn’t just the change in her stature or the maturity in her expressions that unsettled Becky. It was her smile.

That smile sent a sharp pang through Becky’s chest, a pain she hadn’t prepared herself for.

It was too familiar.

The way the corners of Lily’s lips curved, the way her eyes crinkled slightly when she laughed and it was almost the same as Freen’s. Almost, but not quite. Freen’s smile had always held something deeper, something knowing, something mischievous yet warm. Lily’s, however, had a hint of exhaustion, as if she was holding onto happiness by sheer force of will, afraid it might slip away if she let go.

Becky tore her gaze away, swallowing hard. Not now. She couldn’t let herself fall into old ghosts. She was here for one reason and that was to protect Lily.

Tuning out the rest of the bar, Becky focused her heightened senses on Lily’s conversation, listening in as effortlessly as if she were seated right next to her.

"…I swear, if I have to pull another 14-hour shift this week, I’m going to lose my mind."

Her friend chuckled. "Welcome to the glamorous life of a med student. You’re almost there, though. Just a little longer."

A med student. Becky wasn’t surprised. If anyone would dedicate their life to saving others, it would be the girl who had once been saved herself.

Lily sighed, rubbing her temples. "I know. It’s just… it’s a lot. I barely have time to breathe. And he’s–" She hesitated, swirling the drink in her glass before taking a sip. "He’s starting to notice."

Becky stiffened. Her fingers curled slightly around her glass, her grip tightening.

The friend’s teasing smirk softened. "Have you two talked about it?"

"We’re trying," Lily admitted. "We even started couple’s therapy. Our therapist says it’s about finding balance, but how do you balance something when you barely have time to exist?"

Couple’s therapy. Becky felt something cold crawl up her spine. The girl she saved had a whole life with a love, a future, struggles that had nothing to do with vampires, angels, or divine creations. Becky had spent so much time worrying about what dangers might come for Lily that she never considered the life she had already built for herself.

"Our therapist is great, though," Lily continued, lifting her drink again. "Dr. Freen really helped me see things differently."

The moment the name left Lily’s lips, Becky’s body reacted before her mind could catch up. Her grip slackened. The beer glass slipped from her fingers, tumbling onto the wooden counter before crashing to the floor, the sharp shattering sound cutting through the lively atmosphere.

The immediate area around her fell into stunned silence as a few patrons turned their heads toward the commotion. A bartender scurried over with a towel, muttering something about careless customers, but Becky barely registered it.

Because for the first time, Lily’s gaze found hers. Their eyes met across the room.

A flicker of something like recognition, confusion passed through Lily’s expression. Her brows knitted together slightly, as if she was trying to place where she had seen Becky before. The way her lips parted, just barely, like she was about to say something like she knows me. She remembers me. No, she couldn’t possibly…

Becky didn’t wait to find out.

Before anyone could react, before Lily could take another breath, Becky was already moving. The momentary chaos worked to her advantage, and in the blink of an eye, she was gone, vanishing into the shadows, slipping through the night like a ghost.

Becky burst out of the bar, the city lights blurred around her as she walked aimlessly, the weight of what she had just heard pressing down on her like an unbearable force.

"Freen."

The name pulsed in her mind like a drumbeat, each repetition sending another sharp pang through her chest. It couldn’t be. It had to be a coincidence. But how many people in this world were named Freen ?

Becky’s steps quickened as an unsettling thought crept into her mind. Had Freen been here the whole time? Living among humans, helping them, protecting Lily or protecting her ? Had she known Becky was suffering? Had she chosen to stay away? Anger flared inside her, fierce and uncontrollable. It clawed at her insides, mixing with a desperate need for answers.

She felt like a fool. All these years, she had clung to the uncertainty, tortured herself with the unknown, while Freen had been here . Among humans. The thought made her stomach churn. With clenched fists, Becky stormed down the street, barely noticing the curious glances from passersby. She needed answers. And she needed them now.

Humans had a way of finding information, didn’t they? That Google thing. She yanked her phone she had got last time she was here and typed with a shaky hand. Dr. Freen Chankimha.

The search results loaded almost instantly, the name glaring back at her as if mocking her. There she was. Psychologist. 

Freen. Her Freen . Becky’s grip on the phone tightened. An address. That was all she needed. In the blink of an eye, she was gone, the city around her a blur as she raced through the streets, fueled by a mixture of desperation and rage. She didn’t stop until she stood in front of the building. 

And there, engraved in bold letters on the door: Dr. Freen Chankimha, Licensed Psychologist.

Becky’s breath hitched. Her mind screamed at her to barge in, to demand answers. But her body refused to move. Instead, she stood there, frozen, staring at the name like it was some cruel trick of fate. A million emotions warred inside her.

Anger.

Longing.

Betrayal.

Love.

God, she hated how much she still loved her. She wasn’t ready for this. Not like this. She needed time to think, to breathe. Becky took a shaky step back, swallowing the lump in her throat. Maybe she should just–

The door creaked open.

Becky turned sharply, and then–

The world stopped . There, standing in the doorway, was Freen. The same woman who had once been her entire universe. The same woman who had haunted her every dream. Becky’s breath caught as she took her in.

Freen looked effortlessly stunning, dressed in tailored slacks and a crisp white button-up, the top few buttons undone, revealing just a hint of her collarbone. Her glasses sat neatly on the bridge of her nose, her dark hair pulled up into a loose, messy bun.

She looked different. More composed. More human. And yet, to Becky, she was still the same Freen. For a brief, impossible moment, Becky thought Freen might recognize her. That their eyes would meet, and everything would come rushing back.

But instead…

"Hi, can I help you?" Her voice was warm. Professional.

Unfamiliar.

Like Becky was nothing more than a stranger in the night. The words cut through Becky like a knife. No flicker of recognition. No hesitation.

Nothing.

Becky felt her heart shatter all over again. Her throat tightened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She wanted to scream. She wanted to demand, How could you forget me?

But she couldn’t. Because Freen’s eyes held nothing.

No warmth.

No love.

No memory .

Becky swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. She shook her head quickly, trying to keep herself from breaking right there in front of her. And then, before she could do something reckless. Before she could let the pain swallow her whole, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Fast. As fast as she could without running. Because if she stayed any longer, she might do something she’d regret.

Because if she looked back, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from falling apart.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4 - Foreseen

Earth - present day 

Before she could do something reckless—before she could let the pain swallow her whole—she turned on her heel and walked away.

Becky didn’t know where her feet were taking her. She couldn’t think. Her mind was a tangled storm of grief and rage plus disbelief. She just needed to move. To breathe. To escape .

Once she was out of sight, hidden from the city and its lively people, she vanished with a rush of supernatural speed, the night air burning against her skin. She didn’t stop until the world turned quiet again, until all she could hear was the gentle roar of waves crashing onto the shore.

The beach stretched endlessly before her, a silver ribbon under the moonlight. She stood there for a long moment, the salt in the air stinging her nose, the wind tangling her hair almost roughly. Her boots sunk slightly into the wet sand, grounding her, barely .

Then the weight of it all came crashing down.

Becky dropped to her knees as if the pain physically dragged her down, her body folding in on itself. The tide reached her slowly, cold foamy water gathering at her legs, as if the ocean itself was trying to comfort her. But it couldn’t .

The cold of the sea was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the icy numbness settling into her chest. The cold that had bloomed the moment Freen’s eyes met hers—and there was no spark of recognition. No flicker of memory. No love. It was as if she had never existed at all.

Becky let out a shaky breath, and it shattered into a sob. The kind she hadn’t allowed herself to cry in centuries. A sound ripped from a part of her that hadn’t healed, hadn’t moved on. She pressed her trembling hands into the wet sand, clutching at it like it could hold her together, then flung it forward with a scream. The grains scattered in the wind before landing uselessly a few feet away, doing nothing to soothe the ache in her chest.

She screamed again, quieter this time, her voice broken by the weight of heartbreak.

“Why… why don’t you remember me?” she whispered, the words barely audible over the crashing waves.

Becky curled into herself, her forehead resting against the crook of her elbow as the tears poured freely now, tracing lines down her cheeks and mixing with the salt of the ocean. She hated how much she still affected her. Hated that just seeing Freen again could undo every wall she had built to survive without her.

She had tried to bury it. To forget . To silence the memory of Freen’s touch, her smile, her voice. But then she saw her again and every part of her existence screamed. But Freen didn’t scream back. She had just smiled politely, like Becky was a stranger. Maybe she was …

“I should’ve never come back here,” she whispered, voice fraying at the edges as she stared out over the endless water. The words tasted bitter, but they weren’t true, not really. Because something had dragged her back. Not just pain, not just unfinished love. Lily. The girl who may be more powerful than anyone understood.

“You shouldn’t have…”

Becky whipped around so fast the air snapped around her, muscles tense, instincts primed to fight. And there they were, Nam and Heng, standing at the edge of the sand, wearing unreadable expressions which annoyed Becky.

“You,” Becky seethed, her voice trembling from a cocktail of rage and grief. “What do you want now? Haven’t you said enough?”

Nam's face was calm but guarded, and Heng shifted uncomfortably beside her, his lips pressed in a line. They exchanged a look before Nam's subtle shake of her head was an unspoken warning.

“Becky,” she said gently, “we didn’t want it to be this way.”

“What way is that? Me finding Freen? Or me finding her only to see her not even recognize me? ” Becky’s voice cracked on the last words, and she looked away sharply, as if that could hold the tears back. “She looked right at me like I was no one.”

Nam’s jaw tensed. “There are things at play that–”

“Don’t,” Becky snapped. “No more vague divine riddles. I deserve the truth. All of it. ”

Heng hesitated, stealing another glance at Nam, who subtly shook her head again, her expression torn between duty and guilt. But this time, he ignored the silent warning. He stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm.

“She doesn’t remember you, Becky.” Becky’s body stiffened, her breath catching in her throat as she listened to him. “Freen… her memories of anything related to you are gone.”

For a moment, the words didn’t register. They hung in the salty air, meaningless—impossible. But then, like ice cracking under pressure, they seeped into her bones, spreading cold realization throughout her body.

Nam exhaled sharply, closing her eyes as if bracing herself. “Heng…”

“She deserves to know,” Heng interrupted, turning to Nam, his tone edged with frustration. “We’ve lied enough by omission. Freen was a friend.”

Becky barely noticed their exchange. The world around her had faded, collapsing into one unbearable truth. “She… doesn’t remember me?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, raw and fragile.

“She knows she’s an angel. She knows she’s on earth for a mission,” Heng admitted carefully. “But anything tied to you or your love and your time together…it’s been wiped clean.”

The words struck like a dagger, twisting deep. Becky’s knees nearly buckled, but she forced herself to stay upright. The pain in her chest, though, was unbearable. “What?” she choked out, her eyes wide and unblinking, sheer disbelief in every syllable. “What do you mean wiped fully?! You’re saying she doesn’t remember anything ?”

Nam looked away, her jaw clenched. But Heng, out of sympathy, pressed on. “When you and Freen…” He paused, searching for the right words. “When you gave yourselves to each other, you created something that wasn’t supposed to exist. A bond between worlds. A connection so deep it caused a shift somewhere.”

Becky’s mind spun, flashing back to that night. The way Freen had held her, the way they had whispered promises into the darkness, the way their souls had seemed to fuse together. And now, they were telling her it had been a mistake?

“Freen was never supposed to feel that deeply,” Heng continued. “Not as an angel. And you… you weren’t supposed to carry a part of her into your world, let alone the human world.”

Becky’s head shook violently, as if trying to dislodge their words from her mind. “That’s not possible. She chose me. She wanted -”

“She chose to do something forbidden,” Nam cut in, her voice tight. “And she was punished for it.”

Becky stumbled back a step, her hands tangled in her hair, her fingers shaking. Her heart was beating too fast, too erratic. “So you erased me from her mind?” she spat, her voice cracking. “Just like that?”

Nam flinched at the accusation. “We didn’t have a choice.”

Becky let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “There’s always a choice.”

“The ruling was absolute,” Nam pressed, her voice quiet but unrelenting. “She lost her wings. Her memories were stripped, and she was placed on earth to serve humanity.”

Becky looked up at them, shattered and shaking. “You took her wings? You ripped her from everything she was?” Her voice trembled, thick with rage and devastation. “For angels, you sure are cruel creatures. Maybe you all belong in my world too.”

Nam’s expression hardened. “You didn’t see her, Becky.”

Becky let out a scoff, but Nam stepped forward, her next words laced with something even she didn’t fully understand.

“Her wings weren’t white anymore.”

Becky’s breath hitched.

“They darken, almost black,” Nam whispered, “with streaks of gold. She was changing. Whatever you two did, it altered her.”

The wind howled across the beach, whipping Becky’s hair into her face as grains of sand stung her skin. But she didn’t feel it. She didn’t feel anything anymore, except for the unbearable ache inside her. She swayed slightly, staring at the dark ocean, tears blurring the horizon.

She had told herself for years that Freen had abandoned her. That she had walked away, made a choice to forget. That maybe she hadn’t been enough. But none of that was true. Freen hadn’t left her. Freen hadn’t forgotten her. Freen had been punished for loving her.

Her vision swam as silent tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the sea spray. And for the first time since stepping back into the human world, Becky didn’t feel like a vampire. She didn’t feel like a former guardian. Or a warrior. Or a monster.

She just felt human.

Hurt. Heartbroken. And utterly, devastatingly alone.

—--

Back at her office, Freen stood motionless for a moment, still facing the door that had just closed behind the stranger who had fled so abruptly. She blinked, trying to piece together what had just happened. The encounter had been brief, fleeting even, but something about it left a lingering chill under her skin. The stranger's face was unfamiliar… and yet, her eyes felt like they had once stared into Freen's soul.

There was a tension in the air when their gazes locked, something heavy and wordless that clawed at the back of her mind. Sorrow? Recognition? Loss? She couldn’t quite place it. The woman had looked at her like someone who had just seen a ghost.

Freen shook her head, trying to shrug off the strange fog that clung to her thoughts. “Get a grip,” she muttered under her breath and finally grabbed her bag. The day had been long, and this bizarre interaction was the final straw in a string of strange occurrences that had left her mentally frayed and emotionally exhausted.

Once home, Freen went through the motions of preparing for bed, brushing her teeth, changing into her cotton sleepwear, pulling her hair loose from its bun. But her mind was still racing, running loops around a stranger’s eyes that refused to be forgotten. But the moment her head hit the pillow, sleep took her fast and hard, dragging her into a dream that felt far too real.

She stood at the edge of a glowing veil, soft light rippling in waves before her, like water suspended in midair. It was quiet, peaceful even, but Freen’s stance was alert, protective. Like she was guarding something important. Beyond the veil, something stirred. A dark figure hovered at the edges of her awareness, neither threatening nor welcoming. And yet… she felt no fear. In fact, there was something achingly familiar about the shadow. Its presence didn't scare her…it grounded her. Confused, but not alarmed, Freen stood still as the wind shifted around her.

Then the dream twisted without warning.

Now she was in a dimly lit alleyway, rain slicking the pavement, the smell of oil and copper thick in the air. She saw a little girl, small, fragile, maybe six or seven cornered by a thief. The flash of a weapon. A terrified cry. A gunshot. But before Freen could react, everything went black.

She jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her heart pounding like it was trying to break free of her chest. Sweat clung to her skin, and her sheets were twisted from her sudden movement . The images from the dream clung to her mind with an unsettling clarity. Pushing the blankets aside, Freen got up, her instincts suddenly on high alert. Something about that dream just didn’t feel like a product of her imagination. It felt like a memory.

She opened her laptop and clicked through folders of research she had started compiling after her conversation with Nam. Then she saw an old article from twenty-something years ago. The headline was simple, unassuming: Unidentified Child Brought to ER After Reported Robbery. Miraculously Unharmed.

Freen’s pulse quickened and leaned closer to make sure she’s reading things correctly. A little girl had been brought to the hospital with a bloodied shirt, appearing to have a gunshot wound, except there wasn’t a scratch on her. Not a bruise, not a single mark. She had no ID, no known family. All she remembered was a robbery. And a kind woman who made her feel safe and warm and before she knew it, she woke up in the hospital with no one with her.

She had no name. No past. Just one note in the hospital file: Jane Doe. Age unknown. Memory incomplete.

Freen stared at the screen, her hand slowly rising to her lips. “This has to be her,” she whispered. “This has to be Lily.” The realization settled into her like ice and fire all at once. Something happened to Lily that night and Lily was as human as Freen was.

—--

After the crushing weight of the truth dropped onto her shoulders by the angels, Becky took off. She didn’t think. She didn’t breathe. She just ran. Her body blurred past empty intersections, through parks, across quiet streets where dawn had only just begun to stretch its golden fingers across the sky. Her supernatural speed left nothing but the whisper of wind in her wake, but inside, her mind screamed louder than any storm.

How could they take Freen’s memories? How could they erase something so sacred?

She didn’t know how long she had been running, nor did she care. The world around her was a blur, just a smear of color and sound that couldn’t touch her. It wasn’t until her legs began to shake and her breath came out in short, ragged gasps that she realized her body was forcing her to stop. She slowed, boots skidding slightly against the pavement as she came to a halt on an abandoned street. The silence around her was vast, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind brushing through alleyways and the distant chirp of waking birds.

With a heavy thud, Becky dropped to the curb, her elbows resting on her knees as she hung her head. The air was cool, crisp with the first whispers of morning, and the sky was turning shades of apricot and soft blue. The sun was rising, pushing itself above the skyline.

Once upon a time, she would’ve scrambled for cover. The sun, once her enemy, would’ve blistered her skin and drained her strength. But now she just sat in it. Let it warm her pale face.

It didn’t hurt. Just like stepping through the veil hadn’t hurt. Just like her thirst didn’t claw at her insides the way it once did. Becky lifted her face, blinking into the sunlight. Something was changing inside her. Something had already changed.

It wasn’t just Freen.

That night they had rewritten something in each other. Broken a rule not just of the angels, but of the universe itself. And for all the pain it brought, for all the consequences now trailing them like shadows… she couldn’t regret it.

Because for the first time, she had truly felt alive.

And now? Now she felt everything and nothing at all. Her fingers curled into her palms, knuckles whitening. The world felt heavier now. The weight of what she and Freen had done was no longer abstract. It lived inside her, carving space in her bones, reshaping the way she breathed, thought… existed .

“What’s happening to me…” Becky whispered, her voice barely audible over the hush of the waking city. Her eyes remained fixed on the horizon, where sunlight spilled across the concrete like liquid gold.

“It really is you.” The voice cut through the stillness like a ripple in water. Becky's head snapped up, body tensing instantly. She jumped to her feet, eyes scanning her surroundings with the sharp alertness born of years spent hiding, fighting, surviving.

And then she saw her. Lily.

Standing maybe ten feet away, dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans, the wind tugging at her loose hair. Her wide eyes weren’t afraid. They were full of wonder, confusion, and something deeper. Recognition.

“I’m sorry?” Becky replied cautiously, tightening her jaw and masking her expression into indifference. “I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

Lily took a step closer, undeterred. “I saw you last night. At the bar. And the moment our eyes met, I felt like I’d seen you before, like I knew you. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I barely slept.” She let out a shaky breath and glanced around. “I don’t know what made me come here this morning. I just… started walking. I let my feet lead me, and they brought me here.” She paused, then lifted her hand and gestured around them. “To this place. Where it all happened.”

Becky followed Lily’s gaze, her own eyes scanning the surroundings. At first, it was just a random stretch of street. Empty sidewalks. A faded mural on a nearby wall. But then something clicked. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it wasn’t all that different either. She remembered. The night it all changed. The night a little girl almost died. The night something inside her began to unravel.

Lily watched her closely, and when Becky’s expression shifted. Just slightly, just enough. Lily took another step forward.

“It was you,” she said softly, the words thick with emotion, like she was finally piecing together a puzzle that had haunted her for years.

Becky blinked rapidly and turned her body away, forcing a hollow laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think you’re confusing me with someone else.” Her voice was controlled, but it cracked ever so slightly at the end.

“No,” Lily said firmly, her brows pulling together. “I know it was you. I don’t know how, I can’t explain it but I feel it. In my bones. In my blood. The same way I feel when something’s about to go wrong, or when someone I love is in pain. It’s like my soul remembers you, even if my mind doesn’t.”

Becky’s back stiffened. Those words hit too close. Too deep. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe, trying to suppress the flood of emotion threatening to consume her. But there was no outrunning this. Not now. Not with Lily standing in front of her, heart wide open, unknowingly pulling at threads of a bond far older than either of them fully understood.

“I don’t know who you think I am,” Becky murmured, her voice low and fraying at the edges. She kept her back to Lily, unwilling and unable to look at her again. “But you should forget I was ever here.”

There was a brief pause, a beat of hesitation, and then – 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Lily said quietly, but with surprising conviction. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

The words made Becky stop mid-step. She slowly turned her head, her dark eyes meeting Lily’s…really meeting them this time. And in those brown eyes, she saw no fear. Only curiosity. Determination. And something else. Something achingly familiar .

There was an unspoken knowing in Lily’s expression, like some hidden thread inside her had already started tugging at the truth.

“You looked at me like you knew me,” Lily continued, voice softer now, almost gentle. “Last night at the bar. And now again, here. I don’t know how or why, but I felt it. I’ve experienced strange, unexplainable things ever since that night years ago. Visions, dreams and feelings that don’t make sense. I’ve stopped pretending the world is as simple as people want to believe it is.”

Becky exhaled a short, bitter laugh. “You say that now. Until you find out what’s really out there.” Her eyes narrowed, the sorrow behind them sharp as glass. “Until you learn the monsters aren’t all made up stories to scare children.”

“Then enlighten me,” Lily replied, almost daring her. “I’m standing right here, aren’t I?” She took a small step closer. “All I’m asking is for you to talk to me. Tell me the truth. And if, after that, you still want to walk away then fine. I won’t stop you.”

Becky looked at her and studied her. This young woman who had once been a helpless child in her arms. And now she stood tall, defiant in her compassion. Brave in her uncertainty. Something inside Becky trembled at that.

She wanted to run. God, she wanted to run . But instead…

She stayed.

She blinked, swallowed hard, and let herself breathe in the air between them. It was thick with unspoken truth, unanswered questions, and a connection neither of them could name yet.

 And against her better judgment, Becky nodded. “Okay,” she said. Her voice was soft. “You want the truth? I’ll tell you. But once you know it… you don’t get to go back to who you were before.”

Lily didn’t flinch. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

That was the moment Becky knew there was no undoing this path. Not anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5 - Foreshadow

Earth - present day 

“You want the truth? I’ll tell you. But once you know it… you don’t get to go back to who you were before.”

Lily didn’t flinch. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Is there… somewhere private we can go?” Becky asked, her voice quieter now, more careful as though the weight of what she was about to say needed to be contained behind closed doors. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

Lily studied her for a long second, as if trying to gauge whether this sudden openness was real or just another fleeting shadow. But she decided to trust the mysterious person before her and she gave a small nod to show her trust. “I do… yeah,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “There’s a place my family owns. I just need to go get my car and I can take us there.”

Becky’s eyes flickered slightly at the mention of being in a car with Lily. The thought of sitting next to Lily in silence after everything she's learned felt too fragile for comfort. Like she might shatter before they even reached their destination. She shook her head gently, trying to mask the flicker of unease. “Just give me the address,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “I’ll meet you there.”

Lily hesitated, and Becky saw the concern in her eyes and she heard the girl's heartbeat pick up. That worry, unspoken but so loud: Will you really show up? Or will you vanish again like you did before?

“I’ll be there,” Becky said firmly, stepping a little closer, enough that the sincerity in her gaze couldn’t be missed. “I promise.”

For a moment, they stood in the rising light of the morning, wrapped in the heavy quiet of a history only one of them remembered. Then Lily gave a small nod and reached into her bag, scribbling the address on a slip of paper she managed to find. She handed it to Becky, their fingers brushing briefly but the surge they both felt at the simple touch couldn’t be ignored.

“I’ll see you there…” Lily said softly.

Becky gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile, more out of habit than anything else. She folded the slip of paper with the address and tucked it carefully into the inner pocket of her coat and didn’t say another word.

Lily lingered for a heartbeat longer, watching her, unsure if she should say something more. But Becky’s gaze had already turned elsewhere, distant and unreadable. So Lily turned down the sidewalk, her footsteps echoing softly in the early morning stillness. Halfway down the block, something tugged at her and she glanced back over her shoulder but Becky was gone.

Lily took a deep breath, swallowing the strange lump rising in her throat. Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. If anything, she expected it. But this time felt different. She didn’t feel abandoned. She felt anticipation. So she quickened her pace, her boots heavy on the pavement as she made her way to her car. Her hands were cold, but her heart was racing. She didn’t know exactly what she was walking into but something inside her said she was ready. She had waited years for answers. Ever since that night at the hospital when everything changed. And now, finally, the pieces were starting to come together.

It took Lily longer than she remembered to make the drive out to the old Victorian house that was left to her on the outskirts of the city. The same house that had stood untouched by time, like a ghost clinging to the past. As her car rolled to a stop in the gravel driveway, a heavy sigh escaped her lips, fogging the windshield for a brief second. Just being here stirred something inside her. Memories long buried began to bubble to the surface. Ones filled with laughter echoing through the walls, and others… too painful to name. She sat behind the wheel for a moment longer, fingers resting on the keys, not ready to move but then her eyes caught something, or more like someone through the windshield.

A lone figure stood in the overgrown rose garden just beyond the porch. Relief washed over Lily’s face like a tide pulling her out of her thoughts. She kept her promise. With a steadying breath, Lily opened her door and stepped out, her boots crunching softly on the gravel. She approached the garden slowly, her heart hammering with anticipation and nerves.

“These are beautiful,” Becky said, her voice almost lost in the breeze. She didn’t turn right away, instead leaning slightly toward a blooming red rose, her fingers ghosting just above its petals as if touching it would shatter the moment. “It’s strange,” she added with a hint of melancholy. “Something so beautiful... and yet it grows with thorns sharp enough to make you bleed.”

She inhaled the delicate scent, and for the first time in what felt like centuries, a faint smile touched her lips, soft and sad, like the echo of a forgotten melody. But it vanished the moment she turned to face Lily. The sadness in her eyes returned. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“I do,” Lily replied softly, meeting her gaze. “But let’s go inside first.”

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and led the way toward the creaking front steps. Becky followed in silence, the scent of roses still lingering in the air behind her like a memory that refused to fade. 

Once inside, Becky paused just beyond the threshold, her eyes slowly adjusting to the dim, sepia-toned interior. It was like stepping through time. The house smelled faintly of old wood, dried flowers, and the kind of stillness that only came from places where memories outnumbered people.

She moved quietly through the foyer, her fingers brushing along the edge of a vintage console table, feeling the fine film of dust clinging to the surface. Her touch left a trail, a clean streak cutting through years of abandonment. “You don’t live here?” Becky asked, her voice echoing softly in the quiet hall.

Lily, who had just set her keys down on an armchair by the door, gave a small, sad smile. “This house was left to me by my father,” she said, her voice tinged with a sorrow that seemed older than she was. “But I haven’t been back much since he passed.”

“I’m sorry,” Becky said gently, sensing the weight those words carried.

“Thank you,” Lily murmured, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she glanced around the familiar space. “It’s… hard being here. Every corner reminds me of something. Some good… some not.”

Becky tilted her head, watching her. “Then why choose this place to talk?”

Lily paused for a beat, then looked back at her. “Because this house holds most of the things I don’t understand. The strange dreams… the flashes of memories that never made sense. This is where I remember them.” Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed a quiet yearning for answers. “It felt… right.”

Becky didn’t respond right away. Her gaze flickered to an old family portrait hanging on the wall. Lily as a child, sitting on her father’s lap, both of them smiling at something outside the frame. Something about the photo stirred up a feeling that Becky couldn’t explain but her thoughts were interrupted.

“What should I call you?” Lily asked suddenly.

Becky blinked, a little caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Lily gave a soft laugh, almost teasing. “I mean… your name? You never actually told me.”

“Oh.” Becky let out a faint breath of relief, suddenly realizing how tightly she’d been gripping her coat sleeves. “You can call me Becky.”

Lily smiled and nodded, taking a few steps toward the living room where soft golden light filtered through gauzy curtains. “Okay, Becky,” she said with a playful lilt. “I assume you already know mine?”

Becky followed, her footsteps slow. “Lily,” she said softly.

Lily paused in the doorway of the living room, the filtered light catching in her eyes as she turned back toward Becky. Her expression was thoughtful, searching. She tilted her head slightly, as if seeing her through a different lens now. “It was you that night,” Lily said softly, the words trembling. “You saved me.”

Becky didn’t respond. Not with words, anyway. But her eyes, those dark, ancient eyes held a flicker of something deep and unspoken. Guilt. Pain. Recognition. And that was all the confirmation Lily needed. Her chest rose with a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “What are you?” she asked, not unkindly, but with a bluntness born from years of unanswered questions. Her voice carried more wonder than fear. Becky met her gaze and held it, unmoving, unreadable. “I told you, I’m not afraid of you,” Lily added, her voice softening as she took a step closer. “I ask because… you look like you’re my age, but it’s been over twenty years since that night. And I remember your face.”

A faint, almost wistful smile touched Becky’s lips, then vanished as quickly as it came. She looked away, her jaw tightening. “Are you sure you really want to know?” she asked quietly. “Once I say it, you can’t unknow it. We can still walk away. Forget this. Forget me.”

But Lily didn’t flinch. She stepped further into the room, the air between them charged with invisible threads pulling tight. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she said, without hesitation. “I’ve been waiting for answers most of my life. And something tells me you’re the only one who can give them to me.”

Becky looked at her again and for the first time since stepping into the house, she let down her guard, if only slightly. Her shoulders eased, the tension that held her upright started to fall. “Okay,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper.

The room fell into a hush. Even the air seemed to still. “There’s more out there than what you’ve grown to know, Lily,” Becky began, her eyes not meeting the younger girl’s at first. “So much more. There’s a veil,  an invisible curtain that separates different worlds. It exists for a reason. Your world, the one you're familiar with, is the human world. The ordinary one. The one protected by ignorance.”

Lily’s brow furrowed, but not with skepticism but only an intense, focused curiosity. “And on the other side of that veil?” she asked, her voice almost reverent.

Becky finally looked at her. “We call it the Creature World,” she said, the words laced with both pride and pain.

Lily didn’t flinch. Her eyes searched Becky’s face for more, her body leaning ever so slightly forward as if chasing after the truth. “Is that where you’re from?” she asked, though her voice already carried the weight of knowing.

“Yes,” Becky said simply, but her tone was heavy with the unspoken.

There was a moment of stillness between them, stretched thin by silence and implication. Lily took a breath, her eyes soft but unwavering. “What kind of creatures are we talking about?” she asked gently, though her voice didn’t hide the thrill of finally stepping closer to the answers she’d long wondered about.

Becky hesitated. Her lips parted, but the words didn’t come right away. She glanced toward the dusty window where daylight streamed in, where the ordinary world still waited just outside. Could Lily really handle what was on the other side of the curtain? But then she remembered the night she saved her. The connection they shared. The inexplicable pull that had drawn them back together. Because of her… Lily was already part of that world. Whether she liked it or not. 

“Creatures humans have whispered about in stories, painted in myths and nightmares, dressed up in books and films,” she said slowly. “Vampires. Werewolves. Witches. Demons. And others that don’t even have names in your world.”

Lily’s eyes went wide but not from fear. From recognition. From relief. It wasn’t shock she wore, but the quiet joy of someone who had spent their whole life wondering if the impossible might be real… and just learned it always was.

“I knew it,” she said softly, half to herself. Becky gave her a slight smile at how interested the girl seemed to be. 

“And before you ask again…” Becky began, her voice quiet but steady. She drew in a breath, preparing for the weight of the truth. “I’m a vampire.”

The word lingered in the air like smoke, dense and charged with centuries of myth and danger. Becky watched Lily closely, bracing for fear, or at least disbelief.

But Lily’s reaction caught her off guard. Her eyes lit up. She practically bounced to her feet, hands clasped in front of her chest like a child who just solved the final piece of a long-unsolvable puzzle. “It all makes sense now!” she exclaimed. “That’s how you saved me that night! Does that mean I’m a vampire too?” Her eyes sparkled with a mix of awe and excitement.

Becky held her gaze for a moment, the girl’s enthusiasm like a knife twisting in her own chest. “No,” she said gently, “you’re not.”

Lily’s face fell. A flicker of disappointment passed over her features. “Oh… then what am I?” she asked, her voice quieter, almost hesitant.

“I’m not sure…” Becky admitted.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Lily’s confusion deepened, her brows knitting together. “Didn’t you turn me that night? Isn’t that how it works?”

Becky slowly shook her head. “Not exactly. I saved you… yes. But I didn’t go through the full turning ritual. I gave you my blood to heal you, not to change you. There’s a process, and I never completed it. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Then… how do you explain what’s happened to me?” Lily pressed, her voice rising with urgency. “I can’t be fully human. I’ve healed from things that should’ve left scars. I can feel people’s emotions. Like actually feel them, sometimes before they even speak. And once… I swear I brought a dead bird back to life just by holding it.”

Becky’s expression darkened slightly, not with fear, but with concern. “We honestly don’t know what you are,” she said quietly.

Lily blinked. “‘We’? Who’s ‘we’?” Her curiosity sharpened again, cutting through the silence.

Becky hesitated, just for a moment. Then: “The angels. They’ve been watching you… ever since that night.”

Lily tilted her head, her eyes wide with wonder. “Angels? Of course angels exist…” she breathed, as if something she always believed but never dared to say had just been confirmed. But the awe in her voice quickly gave way to something more focused, more serious. Her gaze sharpened, catching the subtle shift in Becky’s posture and the hesitation. “There’s more to all this, isn’t there?” Becky gave a small nod, but said nothing more. Lily stepped closer, her voice quieter now. “Why are the angels watching me?”

Becky hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. She could feel the question carving into old wounds she hadn’t let breathe. Still, they were here. Lily deserved the truth. Even if it wasn't the whole truth, not yet.

“Before that night… before I saved you,” Becky began, her voice low and careful, “I did something that changed me. Altered something inside me permanently. So when I gave you my blood… I passed that change on to you.”

She left it at that. No names. No explanations of what the change was. Just a shadow of the truth. But Lily’s gift, whatever it truly was, cut through it with ease.

“You’re not giving me everything,” she said gently. “I can feel it. You’re holding something back. There’s pain… and guilt. It’s heavy.” Becky’s eyes flicked up in surprise, then turned away again, her jaw tightening. The ache in her chest at the mention of pain wasn't just from guilt. It was from memory. From Freen . Lily took a step back, her tone softening. “You don’t have to tell me. Not now. Not if it hurts that much.”

But Becky shook her head slowly. “No,” she said. “You deserve to know. Because everything that’s happening…it all started with that moment. That choice.”

She inhaled deeply, bracing herself. “I did something forbidden. Something I wasn’t supposed to feel, let alone act on. I broke the laws of both my world and the divine one. And that… changed everything. It created something new. Something that’s never existed before. A ripple, a mutation in the balance of the realms.”

Becky looked at Lily now, directly, her eyes fierce with a quiet storm. “And I just found out… that ripple, that unknown force? That’s you.”

Lily blinked, stunned. “Me?”

“We don’t know what you are yet. What you can do. But what you’ve described…healing, sensing emotions, resurrecting life? That’s not human, and it’s not vampire. You’re something new. Which makes you…” Becky paused, her voice dropping, “a target.”

Lily's lips parted, but no words came out.

Becky continued, her tone now protective. “Every divine and every creature from my world will want to find you. Some will want to use you. Others… destroy you. That’s why I came back. I needed to protect you.”

Lily's gaze sharpened as she asked, "What was the forbidden thing you did?"

Becky hesitated for a moment, her eyes clouded with memories that seemed to pull her further into the past. When she spoke, her voice was filled with a quiet sadness, a heaviness that weighed down her words. “I fell in love with an angel.”

Lily felt it before she could even see it. The sudden shift in the room, the tension that rose like a storm on the horizon. The air thickened with an overwhelming tenderness, an ache of love so deep it almost felt eternal. But it was quickly suffused with something else. The devastation of that love, as if it had been torn away, leaving only fragments behind. It hung in the silence, raw and heavy. Lily didn’t need to ask for more details. She could feel the intensity of it, the way Becky’s heart had been both bound and broken in a single, irreversible moment. And the question that lingered in the air was no longer about what had happened but it was about what had been lost.

Lily’s voice was soft, but filled with a genuine curiosity as she asked, “Can I ask you what happened?”

Becky’s eyes darkened as she took a deep breath, a mix of sorrow and frustration bubbling to the surface. She stared ahead, as if trying to ground herself in the present before speaking. When she did, her voice was tight, the words laced with both regret and grief.

“She was punished... for loving me back.” The weight of those words seemed to hang in the air between them. “The night we... bonded, was the night everything changed. I bit her in the midst of it, and that altered her, just like it did to me. What happened that night wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s never been done before, and I’m not sure if it was because no one’s ever tried... or if something between us was destined from the start.” Becky’s voice wavered as she spoke, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. “But a good thing... is never meant to last.”

Her breath hitched, and she briefly looked away, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. The weight of the memory crushed her chest, but she pushed forward, the pain cutting deeper with each word. “She was punished. Stripped of her wings. Her memories erased... of our love.”

Becky’s throat tightened as she finished, barely able to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. She looked down, swallowing hard, trying to keep herself composed, but the grief was impossible to mask.

Lily’s voice trembled, her empathy radiating through her words. “You really loved her. I can feel all your pain...” Tears began to slip down Lily’s cheeks as she spoke, and Becky was momentarily caught off guard by the sight before her. She wasn’t used to people feeling sorry for her, especially not someone who didn’t really know her.

Becky’s heart tightened. “I still do,” she whispered, the words heavy with the truth she hadn’t been able to say out loud for so long.

For a long moment, Lily didn’t respond. She simply sat there, eyes distant, as if piecing together something far larger than she could fully comprehend. Then, with a sudden realization, her head snapped up, her eyes locking onto Becky’s with newfound understanding. “It’s her.”

Becky’s brow furrowed, confusion creeping into her features. “What?”

Lily didn’t hesitate, her voice calm but filled with certainty. “Dr. Chankimha. Freen.” Becky froze, her pulse quickening as the name hit her like a wave. Shock swept over her, leaving her momentarily speechless. “She’s your angel. She’s the one you love,” Lily added, her words slicing through the silence.

Becky blinked, struggling to process. “How’d you…?”

Lily’s gaze softened as she explained, piecing everything together with surprising clarity. “She’s mine and my husband’s therapist. I always thought it was strange that she was the only person I could be around and feel just my own feelings. I never felt any of hers. Now it makes sense. She’s an angel, so it’s likely she’s immune to my ability.”

Becky stared at Lily, still trying to make sense of the unexpected revelation. “Why would you guess it was her, though?” she asked, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and hope.

Lily took a deep breath, her eyes distant as if replaying the events in her mind. “Yesterday, after my private session with her, I hugged her... and she fainted.” She paused, the worry in her voice clear. “I’m not sure what happened to her, but when we touched, I got flashes of someone’s memory. And based on what you’ve told me, I think it could be the memories that were erased from her.”

Becky’s heart raced as the pieces fell into place. She felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly smothered by a deep worry. “She fainted?” Becky murmured, her mind racing. If Freen was experiencing some kind of memory relapse, then maybe… just maybe, Lily could help her remember.

The thought made Becky’s chest tighten with both hope and fear.

To Be Continued...

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 - Foreign

Armstong’s home - present day 

If Freen was experiencing some kind of memory relapse, then maybe… just maybe, Lily could help her remember.

“You really loved her.” Lily’s voice was soft, barely more than a breath, but it pierced through the silence. Becky turned her head, caught off guard by the raw gentleness in her tone. Lily was watching her, not with suspicion or fear, but with something that looked eerily like empathy. Maybe even sorrow.

“I don’t need to feel your emotions to know that,” Lily continued, her voice steady. “It’s written all over your face. The way your eyes still reach for her like they’re searching for something that’s been lost. There’s longing, and just beneath it… pain. A deep, echoing kind of pain.”

Becky tried to look away, but her body betrayed her. Her shoulders tensed as her hands slowly curled into fists at her sides. She had spent decades perfecting her composure. Her control. But somehow, this girl, this human , or whatever Lily had become could see right through it.

“It’s in the past,” Becky said stiffly, the words sharp and rehearsed.

“Is it?” Lily stepped forward, closing the space between them just a little. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s standing right here with you. In this room. In every word you’re afraid to say. In every pause.”

There was a moment of silence that felt like forever. Becky let out a deep sigh. This emotional fight felt suddenly exhausting.

“I saw her,” she said, her voice quieter now, stripped of pretense. “Last night. I figured out that she was here and I went looking. I didn’t know what I was really expecting.” She gave a dry, bitter laugh. “But I found her.”

Lily’s breath caught. “But she doesn’t remember you.”

Becky’s throat tightened. “No.” The word came out small. “She looked at me like I was a stranger. Like everything we were... never existed. Because to her it didn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lily said, her voice cracking with sincerity. She reached out, her hand brushing Becky’s in a quiet, instinctive attempt to offer comfort.

The moment their skin touched, something snapped in the air.

Lily gasped. A sound caught halfway between awe and terror then her body stiffened violently. Her eyes rolled back, glowing a radiant white, and she collapsed backwards.

“Lily!” Becky moved on instinct, catching her before she hit the floor and lowering her to the nearby couch. “Lily, can you hear me?” Panic laced her voice, something she hadn’t felt in ages. She gripped Lily’s shoulders gently, trying to sooth the girl somehow. “Come on, breathe…”

After a few agonizing seconds, Lily stirred. Her eyes blinked open, dazed and glassy.

“What… happened?” she whispered, trying to sit up. She looked like she’d just been pulled from the bottom of the ocean.

“You touched me, and the next thing I know, your eyes went white and you collapsed,” Becky explained, crouched beside her. “I thought…I didn’t know what happened.”

Lily pressed a hand to her head, as though trying to gather scattered pieces of herself. “It was a vision. I think,” she said, slowly regaining composure. “Like the one I had when I hugged Freen… only this one was different.”

Becky leaned in, brow furrowed. “Different how?”

Lily looked up, her eyes sharp now, lit with a strange energy. “It wasn’t like the last time. That one felt like I was seeing her memories. But this? This felt like something that hasn’t happened yet. Like I was seeing pieces of the future.”

Becky stared at her, heart thudding. Something unspoken passed between them, a realization that Lily’s connection to both her and Freen was far more profound than any of them had anticipated.

“What did you see?” Becky asked, dropping to her knees beside Lily with a frantic edge in her voice. Her hands hovered for a moment before gently gripping Lily’s shoulders, grounding her.

Lily’s eyes fluttered open, still distant, like part of her hadn’t fully returned. “It was… somewhere dark,” she said slowly, her voice dazed. “The walls were made of stone, slick with moisture. There were torches burning… it felt old. Ancient.”

Becky’s breath caught. Her eyes narrowed.

“There were vampires,” Lily continued, her voice shaking now. “A group of them. Not like you. These ones… they were cold and unforgiving. Like predators that never stopped hunting, even when they already had their prey.”

Becky’s grip tightened slightly.

“They had someone… tied to a chair. I…I couldn’t see her face. They kept her in the dark. But she was weak and scared. She might be hurt as well.” Becky’s heartbeat thundered in her ears as she listened. Lily swallowed hard. “One of the vampires stepped forward. A woman. Her presence was…commanding. Like every shadow in the room bent toward her. She looked at the others and said, ‘She has the answers we’re looking for. Do whatever you need to get it out of her.’” Lily’s voice trembled with the weight of those words.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was Becky’s ragged breath.

“No…” Becky finally whispered, backing away like the vision had physically struck her. “No, no, no… It can’t be.”

Lily sat up straighter, alarmed. “You know who they are?”

Becky’s hands were clenched into fists, her eyes burning with fear. “I do,” she said, voice low and tight. “They’re part of the old council. A hidden group of purebloods who believe in controlling anything... or anyone … to stay in power among the universe.”

Lily’s face paled. “And you think the person they have is- ”

“Freen,” Becky cut in, her voice cracking with the weight of the name. “If she regains her memories… if something in her blood is changing like mine did… they’ll want her. They’re going to use her to cross the veil like I did, which would be very bad.” She ran a hand through her hair, visibly unraveling. “And if you’re tied to this too…that you’re a creation of both me and Freen…” Her eyes locked onto Lily’s. “Then you’re not safe either.”

Lily looked at Becky before stating, “But that was a vision. Something that could happen. If we keep quiet and protect Freen we can try and prevent this vision from coming true.”

Becky didn’t answer right away. She stood abruptly, her movements sharp and restless. Her boots clicked against the hardwood floor as she paced back and forth, a storm brewing behind her eyes. The old house around them seemed to grow quieter, as if holding its breath with her. She looked like a caged animal that’s caught between fear, rage, and the heavy burden of responsibility.

Lily watched her silently, feeling all the emotions that Becky is feeling.

Finally, Becky stopped and turned. Her voice came out low and controlled, but her eyes betrayed the fear lurking beneath the surface. “You’re right. I need to protect both of you. But how can I keep Freen safe without setting off every alarm? The second she finds out what I am, what I’ve done… she’ll report it to the others. That’s her job. I’m not supposed to be in this world.”

Lily leaned forward, her fingers steepled in thought, then slowly broke into a small, knowing smile. “Well then… we do this the old-fashioned way.”

Becky narrowed her eyes, suspicion clearly on her face. “You’ve got that look. Like you already came up with something.”

“Freen’s a therapist, right? Specializes in couples, yeah but maybe, just maybe… we can convince her to take you on as a single patient. Say you’re going through some relationship trauma or, I don’t know, existential dread,” Lily said with a glint of mischief in her eye.

Becky looked utterly horrified. “Absolutely not. That is a terrible idea.”

“Why?” Lily countered, undeterred. “Think about it. You’ll have a reason to be around her consistently. You’ll get to see how she’s doing, keep an eye on her without raising suspicion.”

“I could barely look at her last night,” Becky said, her voice cracking around the edges. “You don’t understand. Being near her and knowing she doesn’t remember me… it was torture. And now you want me to sit across from her and pretend like I’m just some emotionally lost stranger?”

“You are emotionally lost,” Lily said with a shrug. “And if you want to keep her safe, you’re going to have to be strong enough to sit in that discomfort. This is the way in. Baby steps. Besides…” She stood, her tone softening. “You never know. She might fall in love with you again, even without her memories.”

Becky looked away, jaw tight. “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Too bad,” Lily said with a sudden burst of energy. “Because I’m calling her.”

“Lily! Don’t you dare-” Becky snapped, whipping around, but it was too late. Lily had already dashed into the next room, pulling her phone from her pocket and dialed.

Becky followed with wide, panicked eyes. “Lily! I mean it! Hang up that phone!”

Lily grinned as the line started to ring. “Too late now. Time to schedule your first therapy session…”

Becky groaned, throwing her head back. “I’m going to regret this.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Lily said smugly. “Or you’ll punch me. Either way, it's worth it.”

—-

Freen’s Office - present day 

Freen sat at her desk in the soft glow of the afternoon light spilling in through the blinds. The scent of herbal tea lingered nearby, forgotten and cooling beside a small stack of patient files. She flipped through the notes from her last session, scribbling a quick observation in the margin. Her mind was focused, though heavy as the residual energy from earlier sessions still clung to her like static.

Then, her phone vibrated sharply on the edge of the desk. Startled, Freen glanced over. Her mind became more alert when she saw the name on the screen. Lily was calling her personal number.

She instantly dropped her pen, snatched the phone, and answered without a second thought.

“Lily? Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice tight with concern as Lily usually only calls this number when things become a little rough at home. Did her husband do something? Was she safe?

“Hi Dr. Freen! How are you?” came Lily’s voice, unusually bright.

Freen blinked, thrown off. That was… not the voice of a distressed patient.

“I’m… alright?” she said cautiously, leaning back into her chair as her brows pulled together. “And you? You sound… good?”

“I am!” Lily replied cheerily.

The reply didn’t comfort Freen and it only deepened her confusion.

“You only call this number when something’s wrong,” she said carefully, her therapist instincts kicking in. Her voice softened, but remained firm. “So tell me, Lily, what’s going on? Is everything really okay?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by a sheepish laugh.

“Yeah, no! I mean yes. It’s not bad urgent,” Lily said quickly, stumbling over her own words. “Just… kind of important urgent. But not in the emotional meltdown way. More like… life-or-death but not my life. If that makes sense.”

It didn’t. At all.

Freen’s eyes narrowed. She sat up straighter, her fingers tightening slightly around the phone. “Lily,” she said gently but firmly, “you’re being vague. Is someone in danger?”

Lily exhaled, clearly debating how much to say. “It’s... complicated. But no, not in the way you’re thinking. I just needed a favor. Kind of... professional favor.”

Freen blinked again, her therapist hat slipping just slightly in place of the confused woman underneath. “Professional?” she echoed slowly. “Lily, are you trying to book a session or…?”

“Sort of!” Lily said with an awkward chuckle. “But not for me.”

Freen pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as she tried to make sense of Lily’s strange tone. The soft sigh that escaped her was a mix of concern and confusion. “Lily,” she said gently, “please. Just tell me what’s going on. You’re really starting to confuse me.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and when Lily spoke again, her voice was quieter and less bubbly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be weird about it. It’s just… it’s about my cousin. Yeah! My cousin,” she said quickly, stumbling a little. “She really needs help. Badly.”

Freen straightened in her chair, the weight of Lily’s words settling in. “Alright,” she said slowly. “Is your cousin having issues in her relationship? If so, I’d be more than happy to help. I can have my assistant schedule something for her.”

“That’s the thing,” Lily replied, her voice dipping again. “She’s not in a relationship anymore. And it’s not exactly… relationship stuff. She’s been through something. Something really traumatic. Life-altering. And now she doesn’t trust anyone enough to talk about it.”

Freen’s brows furrowed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I told her about you,” Lily went on, rushing a bit. “About how great you are. How you helped me through so much. And eventually she agreed to talk to someone. But only if it’s you .”

Freen leaned back in her chair, a slow exhale leaving her lips. She stared at the ceiling for a beat, torn. “Lily, you know I specialize in couples and family dynamics. One-on-one trauma work isn’t usually my lane.”

“I know. I do. But she won’t talk to anyone else,” Lily pleaded. “She’s… complicated. There’s stuff going on that I can’t even explain. But I swear she’s not dangerous or anything. She’s just…hurt. And lost. You’re the only one she said yes to. Please, just meet her. One time. That’s all I’m asking.”

Freen’s mind swirled. This wasn’t how she ran her practice. She had procedures, boundaries. But something in Lily’s voice, desperation wrapped in hope that made her pause. That, and the strange sensation that had been haunting her since her last session with Lily. The vision . The memory that didn’t feel like her own. The flicker of emotion that wasn’t hers but lingered like it was.

And now this cousin? Out of nowhere? It didn’t sit right. But it also didn’t feel wrong. She glanced at the time, then rubbed her temples. “Alright,” she said finally. “I’ll make an exception. She can come by after hours, today. I should be free around six.”

Lily let out an audible breath of relief. “Thank you! Seriously, thank you so much, Dr. Freen. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I’m not promising anything,” Freen reminded her. “I’ll talk with her, that’s all. We’ll see what happens.”

“Fair enough. We’ll be there. Six sharp,” Lily chirped, her earlier nerves now replaced with gratitude.

Freen gave a small nod even though Lily couldn’t see it. “Alright. I’ve got patients arriving, but I’ll see you both later.”

“Bye!” And they both hung up.

Freen lowered her phone slowly, letting it rest on her desk as she stared at the wall, her thoughts suddenly a thousand miles away. Nothing about this felt normal. In fact, the past two days had felt anything but normal. There was something tugging at the edges of her awareness. Some unseen thread connecting moments that didn’t belong together. Even as an angel she can’t seem to make sense of it. But before she could think more about it, a soft knock at her door snapped her out of it.

She stood, straightening her jacket and putting on her usual professional calm. “Come in,” she called, pushing everything to the back of her mind . For now.

—-

Back at the Armstong’s home - present day 

“Your cousin ?” Becky questioned dryly the moment Lily hung up the phone.

Lily jumped slightly, startled to find Becky suddenly standing inches from her side like a shadow come to life. “That was the first thing that popped into my head,” she defended, clutching her phone like it could shield her from Becky’s unimpressed stare. “Why? Would you have preferred I say you're my vampire mom who needs to emotionally unload on the angel you've secretly been in love with for the last few decades because her life might be in danger?”

Becky blinked at her. “Cousin works,” she said, eyes wide, and turned to walk away. “And I’m not your vampire mother.”

Lily followed, unfazed. “It’s fitting, you know,” she said with a teasing shrug. “I don’t know my mom, and you sorta, kinda, accidentally created me into whatever I am now, so yeah it feels maternal.”

“No,” Becky shot back without missing a step.

“Would you rather be the father then?” Lily teased, grinning mischievously.

“No.” Becky’s tone was flat, final but not angry.

“You’re no fun,” Lily huffed dramatically, flopping onto the couch like an overacted stage performance.

Becky sighed and slowly took a seat across from her, tension still humming beneath the surface like a coiled wire. She was doing her best to seem calm, but the way her eyes flicked toward the clock, the way her fingers drummed against her knee, he was anything but.

“So…” Lily leaned forward, eyes glinting. “How was it hearing her voice?”

Becky flinched slightly, caught off guard. “Wh-what?”

“You know what I mean,” Lily said smugly. “Your emotions spiked when I was talking to Freen. I felt it. It was like your soul nearly clawed out of your chest. I'm assuming you have super hearing like all vampires do in the movies?”

“I wasn’t listening,” Becky lied quickly, a little too quickly.

Lily smirked. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Becky didn’t respond, just looked away, jaw tense.

“Fine,” Lily said with a shrug, pretending to drop it. “Don’t talk to me. I know you’d rather talk to Freen anyway.”

“Why are you like this?” Becky asked, not in annoyance, but with a kind of quiet desperation. She wasn’t mad pre se, she was just unraveling. The thought of sitting across from Freen, pretending to be a stranger while her whole being still ached with love… it was too much.

“Call me a hopeless romantic,” Lily replied with a smirk and a lightness in her tone that tried to ease the heaviness in Becky’s. “I like the idea of helping my vampire and angel parents fall in love again.”

“We’re not your parents,” Becky said again, firmer this time.

“Sure,” Lily said nonchalantly, giving Becky a knowing look but not pressing it further.

A beat passed in silence before Lily leaned back, stretching out across the couch like she had all the time in the world. “So,” she said with a grin, “let’s get you ready for your date.”

“It’s not a date,” Becky muttered, but this time she didn’t fight it. She just rolled her eyes, and Lily swore there was the tiniest smile tugging at the corner of Becky’s lips.

—-

Freen’s Office - present day 

Freen had wrapped up her last appointment earlier than expected. The quiet in her office felt unfamiliar, almost too still, but she welcomed the pause. She sat at her desk, carefully jotting down notes from the previous session, pretending this was just another ordinary day. Routine helped ground her, even when nothing about the past few days had felt routine.

Her pen slowed as her mind drifted. The vision she had after hugging Lily was still gone and she couldn’t make sense of it, couldn’t explain the overwhelming feeling of having them but before she could lose herself in that spiral again, her eyes flicked to the clock.

5:55 PM.

Her pulse quickened. Lily and her cousin would be arriving any minute.

Sliding back her chair, Freen stood and moved briskly around the office, double-checking that everything was in order. Her notes were stacked, her calendar cleared, and she tucked away the last of her patient files into the locked cabinet. Confidentiality always came first, no matter how strange or off-script things felt.

Just as she turned the key in the filing cabinet, a sharp knock echoed through the quiet room. She jumped slightly, her heart skipping not sure why this meeting was keeping her on edge. Quickly straightening her button-down blouse, she smoothed her hands over the front and moved to the door. For a brief second, she paused, uncertain why she felt nervous. She wasn’t easily rattled, but something about this whole situation felt…

She unlocked the door and pulled it open. Two figures stood before her. One was Lily, her expression hopeful and bright. But the other…

“You!” Freen blurted, the word slipping out before she could reel it back in.

The same woman who had appeared at her doorstep the night before. Mysterious, intense, and gone before Freen could ask who she was or why she'd been there. She was now standing calmly beside Lily, her eyes unreadable.

Freen's breath caught in her throat as the two stared at each other, tension crackling in the air between them.

To be continued…

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - Formally

Freen’s Office - present day 

“You!” Freen blurted, the word slipping out before she could reel it back in. The same woman who had appeared at her doorstep the night before. 

“Hi, Dr. Freen!” Lily jumped in brightly, cutting through the heavy silence like a spotlight. Her voice carried a touch of forced cheer, clearly trying to steer the moment in a more manageable direction. “This is my cousin, Becky,” she added, gesturing to the woman beside her.

Becky, however, didn’t move or speak. She stood frozen, staring at Freen with an intensity that made the moment feel suspended in time. Her eyes were locked and wide, almost haunted. It was as if she was trying to memorize every detail of Freen’s face, or maybe convince herself this wasn’t just another dream.

Lily elbowed her sharply in the ribs.

Becky blinked. “Oh - right. Hi,” she mumbled, the single syllable barely above a whisper. Her voice cracked slightly, betraying the effort it took to even speak.

“As you can see, she’s not much of a talker,” Lily chimed in, laughing a little awkwardly as she stepped between them like a human buffer. “Introvert,” she added, giving Becky a not-so-subtle nudge of encouragement.

Freen’s brows furrowed slightly as her gaze shifted between them. “You were here last night,” she said softly. “You came to my door…and then left.”

Becky opened her mouth but no words came. Her tongue felt heavy, her throat tight. Being this close to Freen again was overwhelming but everything about her felt the same, from the calm warmth in her voice to the way her eyes seemed to cut through layers without even trying. Becky looked away, struggling for air and words all at once. “I…I didn’t mean to…” she tried, but the sentence went nowhere.

Lily jumped in again, her voice quick and light, trying to patch over the unraveling moment. “She told me she wanted to talk to someone, and of course I told her about you. I guess she tried to be brave last night and come on her own, but…” Lily trailed off with a shrug. “Didn’t go quite as planned. So here we are. Take two.”

Freen gave Lily a lingering look, clearly not buying the whole story, but choosing not to press. “Okay,” she said slowly, her expression unreadable. “Well…come in.”

She stepped aside, holding the door open.

Becky gave a stiff nod and lowered her gaze as she stepped past Freen, doing her best to hide the sudden flush creeping up her neck. The subtle fragrance of Freen’s perfume, something soft and earthy with a hint of jasmine, washed over her. It was faint, but unmistakable. Familiar in a way that made Becky’s chest tighten. The scent lingered just long enough to make her falter mid-step, her breath catching for a second too long.

Freen watched her closely, her brows pulling together ever so slightly. There was something about this woman. Something tugging at the edge of her mind. She couldn’t place it, but the feeling rooted itself deep in her chest.

Once inside, the silence thickened between the three of them. Becky and Lily stood like mismatched bookends, awkward and out of place in the warm, softly lit office. Freen took a steadying breath, smoothing the tension with her practiced professionalism as she moved toward her desk.

“Alright,” she began, voice calm and clear. “I can speak with Becky for an hour to get a better understanding of what’s going on. After that, we’ll figure out if it makes sense to continue.” She reached for her notepad and pen, the click of the pen breaking the quiet like a starter pistol.

“That sounds great. Thank you again for doing this, Dr. Freen,” Lily chimed in quickly. “You can go ahead and add her session to my account, if that’s alright.”

Freen gave a small shake of her head. “Consider this a free consultation. We can talk about payment if we decide to schedule more sessions.” Her words were neutral, but the calm authority behind them sent a strange ripple through Becky, something between admiration and longing.

“You’re an angel,” Lily said, her tone light and meant as a casual compliment but the moment the word left her mouth, the room shifted.

Freen’s eyes widened just slightly, blinking as though the phrase had struck her nerve. Becky, standing beside Lily, stiffened like she’d been doused with cold water. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward but rather deafening with something unspoken.

Lily noticed immediately. Too much , she realized. She had said too much.

With a sheepish laugh and an exaggerated stretch, she began backing toward the door. “Aaaand on that note, I’ll give you two some privacy. I’ll be back in an hour to pick up my incredibly talkative cousin.” She gave Becky a wink and Freen a bright, innocent smile. “Have fun, you two!” she added before slipping out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Freen stared at the closed door for a second longer than necessary, a puzzled frown forming on her lips. Lily had been animated, almost bubbly. Nothing like the emotionally heavy feelings the girl from yesterday had while talking about her marriage. Something was strange.

Freen turned back to Becky, her brows slightly furrowed and her gaze intent. “You two are… close,” she said, her tone more curious than accusatory. It was more of an observation made from the slight ease between them, the way Lily had spoken for Becky so comfortably.

Becky didn’t respond right away. Her heart was pounding so loud it felt like it echoed in her ears. She wasn’t used to being this exposed. Not with Freen just a few feet away. She opened her mouth before she could stop herself. “Like blood,” she blurted.

Freen tilted her head slightly, intrigued. “So… not cousins by blood?”

“Oh, no, we are,” Becky rushed to correct herself, stumbling over the words. “Definitely by blood. Very… bloody.” Her awkward chuckle fell flat, and she winced internally. What am I even saying? Freen still had that effect on her.

Freen gave her a long look, something thoughtful flickering in her eyes. The response hadn’t exactly cleared anything up, but she chose not to press further. There was already enough oddness in the air. She shifted gears with a quiet breath and a gentle, professional tone. “Alright. Let’s get started. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She gestured toward the couch as she moved to the armchair opposite, already picking up her notepad and pen. Becky nodded stiffly and walked over like she was heading into battle. She perched herself on the couch, dead center, hands clasped tightly in her lap, her back unnaturally straight. Comfort clearly wasn’t in the cards.

Freen observed her in silence for a moment, her pen hovering just above the paper. Even in Becky’s awkward posture, there was something striking about her. Her face was heart-shaped with a sharp, defined jawline and a slender nose that made her features look almost sculpted. Freen’s eyes lingered a bit too long on the curve of her lips…full, slightly parted, as if she were holding something back.

The silence stretched, and when Freen finally looked up, she found Becky already staring back at her.

And those eyes…

They were unlike anything Freen had ever seen. Hazel, but flecked with gold, like sunlit amber trapped in autumn leaves. Beautiful, yes, but what truly caught her off guard was the weight they carried. There was sorrow in them like the grief of someone who had lost more than they could speak of. Freen felt something twist in her chest slightly which felt strange. An emotion she didn’t quite understand. She blinked, trying to shake it off, and cleared her throat quietly before speaking.

“Why don’t we start with something easy,” Freen said gently, her voice taking on that calm, measured tone she’d perfected over the years. “Just tell me how you’re feeling right now. No pressure.”

Becky’s jaw tightened. Her eyes flicked toward Freen, then quickly away, like the answer might be hiding somewhere in the grain of the floorboards. But she said nothing. The silence stretched between them, thick and restless.

“I know it can be difficult to talk about our emotions,” Freen added, her tone softer now, more coaxing than clinical. “Especially when they’ve left scars. So let’s keep it simple. Just give me a word. One word that describes how you feel in this moment.”

Becky sat perfectly still, except for the faint clench of her fingers. She stared at Freen for a long second, something flickering behind her eyes. Then she looked away, her voice barely audible when she finally said, “Lost.”

Freen gave a quiet nod and jotted the word into her notepad. It was a start, small, but honest. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “That’s a good place to start.”

She glanced back at Becky, watching how the woman’s shoulders remained stiff, her posture rigid despite the couch’s soft cushions. Time to shift the focus, just enough to loosen the tension. “How about another word,” Freen said, her pen still poised. “Tell me how you feel about Lily.”

Becky’s brows pulled together, clearly thrown by the question. “Annoyed,” she said after a pause, her tone flat.

Freen couldn’t help the small smile that graced her lips. It was quick, barely there, but Becky noticed and for just a moment, something in her softened.

“You’re annoyed because she talked you into therapy?” Freen asked, her voice tinged with light amusement.

“Yes.” Becky’s answer came immediately, deadpan.

Freen tilted her head, chuckling under her breath. “I see we’re sticking to the one-word format. I can work with that.” She gave a playful glance before adding, “Alright then, a word that explains why Lily thinks you need therapy.”

Becky dropped her gaze to her hands, her fingers now fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. There was a long pause before she finally whispered, “Love.”

The word hung in the air, delicate and heavy all at once.

Freen’s smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful stillness. “Is this love the reason you feel lost? Or… is it because you lost it?”

That question seemed to knock something loose in Becky. She shifted, uncomfortable now, like her seat had suddenly become too small. Her fingers picked at the hem of her shirt, her eyes locked on a spot on the carpet.

“Both,” she said, voice strained. Honest.

Freen nodded slowly. She could see the tension etched in every line of Becky’s body, but also the vulnerability creeping through the cracks. “Thank you for trusting me with that,” she said quietly. “Now, if you’re ready, I’d like to hear more about this love. Just one memory, a happy one. Just something that meant something to you.”

She closed her notebook for a moment, as if to show Becky this wasn’t about documentation but more wanting to learn and help. “You can share as much or as little as you like.”

Becky didn’t respond right away. Her lips parted, then closed again. A war was happening behind her eyes. But somewhere deep in her chest, a memory stirred and for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to reach for it.

Becky drew in a breath, slow and steady, like she was pulling the memory from somewhere buried deep beneath the years. Her fingers stilled and her gaze softened. “It was a night like any other,” she began quietly, her voice gaining shape with each word. “I needed to clear my head, so I went for a walk.”

Even that simple start came wrapped in nostalgia, like her mind was already slipping back into another time.

Freen remained quiet, pen still resting in her lap, but her therapist’s eye stayed on Becky. On the way her shoulders eased just slightly, on the faraway glow that came into her eyes. She’d been watching for anxiety, for tension, for grief. But what she saw now was something else. The warmth, wonder and the ghost of joy returning to someone who hadn’t smiled much at all.

“And that’s when I saw her,” Becky continued, her voice almost lighter now, almost smiling. Her gaze lifted, locking directly onto Freen’s, and it felt like the air between them shifted. “She was just… there. Like she belonged in that moment, like I had wandered into something sacred.”

Freen’s throat felt dry. “Your… love?” she asked gently, even though the answer was obvious.

Becky didn’t hesitate. “She was so much more than that.” Her words came wrapped in awe. “She was the definition of divine.” The phrase hung in the room. “She was sitting on this old wooden bench, tucked beneath a tree that had started to bloom early that year. She had a book in her hands. Something thick and worn but she was flipping each page like she was uncovering secrets meant just for her. Her expression would change with every chapter, like she was living the words written. I stood there longer than I should’ve, just… watching her read.”

Freen didn’t interrupt. Couldn’t . Her heart was beating too fast, and she wasn’t entirely sure why.

“She smiled,” Becky went on, her voice softer now, more fragile. “Not at me but at the book. It was the kind of smile that could light up the dark places in people. In me . And when she finally noticed me… when she looked up and said hello…” Becky exhaled, like the memory itself had winded her. “Her voice…it was like music I’d waited my whole life to hear. And I knew at that moment I could spend the rest of eternity just listening to her.”

It didn’t sound like fantasy. It sounded like grief masked in gold.

Freen’s fingers curled slightly against her notepad. She realized she’d been holding her breath. “She must be… something,” she said, her voice a quiet tremor.

Becky looked down for a moment, as if the memory hurt more now that it had air. “She was everything,” she whispered, then added in a near-broken breath, “To me, anyway.”

And Freen didn’t know why her heart clenched so suddenly in her chest. She had witnessed centuries of devotion, heard prayers whispered in desperation, seen love bloom and fade in the lives of mortals like seasons passing but something about the way Becky spoke was different. It wasn’t just the words; it was the ache behind them, the way her voice trembled like she was holding something sacred in her hands and afraid it might break if she said too much.

Even as an angel, Freen felt something stir deep within her. Becky’s memory had been painted in hues too vivid to ignore: the flicker of spring blossoms, the softness of a smile meant for no one, the music of a voice spoken like a prayer. It wasn’t just beautiful… it was raw, real. And undeniably familiar in a way that made something inside Freen feel unsteady.

It felt like a passage from one of those worn, romantic novels she sometimes picked up late at night. Ones where love shone bright and brilliant, only to be shadowed by the weight of loss. Freen could feel the shadow in Becky’s voice now. This wasn’t just a memory being shared. It was a love story that had fractured somewhere along the line.

And that fracture, that quiet devastation beneath all the beauty, that was why Becky was here. That was the wound Freen was meant to help heal. Even if she didn’t yet understand why it hurt her, too.

“That was beautiful,” was all Freen could manage, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with something she couldn’t describe. She hadn’t expected to be so moved, hadn’t expected the tenderness behind Becky’s words to unravel her so much.

Becky didn’t speak in return. Instead, she simply looked up and for the first time that evening, offered a smile that wasn’t forced or guarded. It was soft, almost shy, and it carried the unspoken weight of gratitude. A thank you just for listening.

Their eyes met, and the space between them shifted like something electric and undeniably real passed in that silence. For a moment, Freen forgot her role as therapist, as angel, as observer of mortal pain. All she could feel was this strange, magnetic pull toward the woman sitting across from her. There was something about Becky. Something honest and aching and full of a quiet strength that stirred Freen’s very soul.

She didn’t understand it yet, but she knew one thing for certain: she wanted to help Becky feel whole again. Needed to. And not because it was her job but because something inside her was calling her to it. Urging her forward like destiny had gently placed this moment in her hands.

Then Becky’s voice, quiet and sorrowful, sliced through the air.

“But nothing that good lasts forever…”

Freen blinked, returning to herself, though her heart remained tethered to the emotion in Becky’s words. “Do you want to tell me about it?” she asked gently, her professional tone sliding back into place like muscle memory though her gaze remained soft, open.

Becky’s lips parted, then hesitated. “More than you know,” she murmured, a confession she hadn’t meant to say aloud. There was so much buried inside her. So much she longed to reveal but too many truths she couldn’t speak because of the danger it brings.

Freen leaned in slightly, her posture calm and inviting. “Then tell me only what you can. What your heart allows.”

Becky took a breath. It shook slightly, but she found her voice. “I made a mistake,” she claimed, her eyes dropping to her clasped hands. “I wanted something I shouldn’t have reached for. I thought… maybe, just maybe, it could be mine. But I was wrong. If I hadn’t been so selfish or if I had just stayed in the shadows where I belonged then maybe things wouldn’t have fallen apart.” She paused, jaw tightening as her voice grew heavier with pain. “She wasn’t meant for someone like me.”

Freen felt that sentence in her chest like a punch. The weight of regret in Becky’s tone, the way her shoulders curled inward like she was trying to disappear. It made Freen want to reach across the space between them and just… hold her .

But she only sat in stillness, listening, heart aching in ways she didn’t fully understand.

For the remainder of the session, Becky drifted back into the safety of one-word answers, her earlier vulnerability now tucked tightly behind an emotional wall. Freen didn’t press. She could sense the internal war waging behind those honey-hazel eyes. The ache of someone who wanted to say more but couldn’t quite pull the words from the tangle of sorrow in her chest.

Besides, Freen herself was far from composed. The gentle way Becky had spoken about her past, about her love, had stirred something inside Freen. She needed time to sort through her own thoughts. So when she glanced at her phone and saw the hour was nearly up, it was a quiet mercy.

“Alright,” Freen said softly, her voice more fragile than she intended, “our time is almost up.”

“Oh.” Becky’s reply was barely audible, but heavy like the word itself had lost hope. Like it was goodbye.

Freen tilted her head slightly, offering a warm, reassuring smile. “I would love to continue working with you. To help you through more of what’s weighing on you. Would that be okay Becky?”

Becky’s eyes flicked to Freen, startled. Like she’s hearing her name spoken so gently had caught her off guard. She swallowed. “Yes,” she said. 

“Good,” Freen said, her smile softening. “You did really well today. I know how hard it can be to talk about things we’ve spent so long trying to bury. But letting even a little of it out…that’s how healing starts.”

Before Becky could reply, a sudden knock echoed through the room. Freen quickly stood, a bit too quickly, and in her haste, her foot caught on the leg of the coffee table. “Oh—!” she gasped as she stumbled forward. But she never hit the ground.

Strong arms caught her mid-fall, one wrapping around her waist, the other steadying her shoulder. Her body collided softly into another, and in the blink of a moment, she found herself pressed against Becky’s chest. Freen froze. Her hands instinctively gripped Becky’s sleeves as she realized just how close they were. Becky, still holding her, didn’t move or more like she couldn’t move. Her vampire reflexes had kicked in before she’d even thought about it, but now that she had Freen in her arms, it was something entirely different that kept her from letting go.

Heat bloomed under Freen’s skin, her angelic essence humming like a struck tuning fork. It was too much and not enough all at once. Another knock rang out, louder this time, snapping them both from the moment. Freen jumped slightly, hands now pressed against Becky’s chest, steadying herself before she stepped back. They locked eyes, flushed and very aware of the lingering tension in the air.

Freen turned quickly toward the door with her cheeks burning from the contact.

“Hi, Dr. Freen!” came Lily’s chipper voice from the hallway.

Freen opened the door, doing her best to sound composed. “Lily! Perfect timing, we just wrapped each…wrapped up the session,” she corrected, flustered.

Lily blinked, caught the stumble, and arched an amused brow as her gaze shifted to Becky, who still stood near the couch looking like she’d been struck by lightning. A slow, knowing smirk curved Lily’s lips. “Great! I hope you’ll be able to keep helping her,” she said innocently.

“Yes- uh yes, I’d be happy to,” Freen said, smoothing her blouse and trying not to look at Becky again. “We can set up a weekly session.”

“Perfect,” Lily replied, but her eyes never left Becky’s stunned face. She could feel the surge of emotions coming from Becky and can’t wait to dive into that conversation.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Foretell

“Perfect,” Lily replied, but her eyes never left Becky’s stunned face. She could feel the surge of emotions coming from Becky and can’t wait to dive into that conversation. 

Lily and Becky slid into the car and without a word, Lily started the engine. They pulled away from the curb, entering the slow-moving flow of traffic. The silence inside the car stretched, thick and heavy, almost like fog. Becky sat rigid in the passenger seat, her eyes locked on the blurred scenery outside, watching the world move past as if she wasn’t a part of it.

Lily gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, feeling the tangled storm of emotions radiating off Becky. It crashed against Lily’s empathic senses like waves and she struggled to hold herself steady. She didn’t want to force Becky to talk, but if she didn’t find a way to get her to open up soon, she wasn’t sure she could take much more of this.

After several minutes of nothing but the hum of the car’s tires against the pavement, Lily ventured, “So... how was it?”

Her voice broke the silence like a pebble tossed into still water, creating ripples neither of them could ignore. She didn’t sugarcoat it with gentle leading questions or even a coaxing smile. Just straight to the point. She needed Becky to say something, anything, before the emotional pressure inside the car crushed them both.

Becky didn’t respond immediately. She seemed to wrestle with herself, her lips tightening into a thin line. Finally, she turned her head ever so slightly toward Lily and muttered, “Fine.”

It was a lie so transparent it practically echoed. Lily flicked her eyes to Becky, not even bothering to hide her disbelief. “You do realize I can feel your emotions, right? And right now? They’re all over the place.”

Before Lily could say anything else, she felt it…the sudden drop, like the air had been sucked out of the car. Coldness flooded the space between them. Lily’s chest tightened as she glanced quickly at Becky.

Becky’s face had shifted into something unrecognizable. Her golden eyes glowed eerily against her unnaturally calm expression, and her body sat unnaturally still, rigid as stone. She had flipped the switch. She shutted everything off.

Lily’s heart stumbled. So this is what she meant.

Trying not to let fear creep into her voice, Lily turned back to the road but kept speaking, pushing through the strange chill settling over her. “Okay… how about this? Let’s make a deal. I won’t tap into your emotions if you just... talk to me. Honestly. Even just a little. Deal?”

For a long, tense moment, Becky simply stared at her, her gold eyes unreadable. Then, just as suddenly as the cold had come, it lifted. Becky blinked slowly, and when her eyes opened again, the gold had softened back to its usual warm honey-hazel. The storm of emotions returned too, swirling and raw but it was hers again.

“Deal,” Becky said quietly, her voice scratchy, like it hadn’t been used in years.

Lily breathed out a laugh of relief but quickly sobered. “Fair warning, though,” she said, glancing at Becky, “sometimes I can’t help it. Some people’s emotions are so strong it’s like… they bleed into me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Yours are kind of... loud right now.” She offered a small, apologetic smile. “But I promise I won’t use it against you.”

Becky’s expression shifted, the hard lines softening into something almost gentle. Her head tilted slightly, studying Lily in a way that made Lily feel seen in a way she hadn’t expected.

“Does it hurt you?” Becky asked after a beat. Her voice was quieter now, careful. “Feeling everyone like that?”

Lily hesitated, the question catching her off guard. She kept her eyes on the road, but her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel.

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “It can drain me. Like carrying a hundred different emotions that don’t belong to me... but still feel real.” She paused, then added, voice smaller, “Sometimes it gets so loud, I can’t tell where my feelings end and someone else’s begins. It can get... messy.”

Becky’s gaze didn’t leave her, and Lily could feel something shift in the car again but not heavy this time, but careful. Compassion. Maybe even understanding.

“It’s part of why I have trouble with people,” Lily said, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “It’s hard to build a relationship when half the time you’re not even sure if the feelings are real... or just borrowed.”

For a moment, neither spoke. But something unspoken passed between them. A quiet truce, fragile but genuine. Becky turned her gaze back to the window, but her posture was a little less stiff now, her presence a little more open. And for the first time since they left Freen’s office, the silence between them didn’t feel so suffocating.

“When I talk to Dr. Freen, it’s the only time I’m sure my feelings are mine, ” Lily said, her voice softer now, almost vulnerable. She turned her head to glance at Becky, hoping the comment would steer the conversation back toward Freen. To her quiet delight, she caught the faintest flicker of a smile playing at Becky’s lips. It was small, almost shy, but unmistakably there.

“She’s always had this... way about her,” Becky murmured, her voice like a whisper being carried away by the wind. “She makes the world feel a little quieter. A little calmer.”

Lily’s mouth moved before her brain could stop it. “Calm is definitely not what you’re feeling right now.”

Becky turned sharply toward her, eyebrows arching, and Lily winced, throwing up a hand in apology. “Sorry! I’m stopping now. No reading emotions, promise.” She gave an awkward, guilty laugh. “But really… how did it go?”

“You’re so nosey,” Becky said with a huff of amusement, the edge of a real smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“I’m trying to help you keep her safe, you know,” Lily shot back, her tone mock defensive.

Becky’s teasing expression faded into something far more serious. “I’ll keep her safe,” she said, voice low and certain. “Both of you.”

Lily opened her mouth to respond, but Becky pressed on, her words rushing out before the moment could shift again. “The conversation with Freen was... surprisingly nice. Hard, but nice. It hurt, seeing her and knowing she didn’t remember anything. But even without the memories, she still found a way to comfort me, without even realizing it.” Her voice cracked slightly on that last word, and she cleared her throat, looking back out the window as if afraid of saying too much.

“We didn’t talk a whole lot,” Becky continued, quieter now. “But it was a start. And honestly... I’d rather know this version of her, even if it’s different, than lose her completely again.”

Lily felt her heart twist at the raw honesty in Becky’s words. “That’s... heartbreakingly sweet,” she said, blinking fast and refocusing on the road. A mischievous glint sparked in Lily’s eyes after a moment of silence. She couldn’t resist. “So... why were you two so flustered when I got there, huh?” she asked, her tone light and teasing.

“Nothing.” Becky answered a little too quickly, turning her face away slightly but not fast enough to hide the soft smile blooming on her lips as a memory flashed in her mind: the warmth of Freen’s arms, the closeness, the way the world had narrowed down to just the two of them for a few heartbeats.

“Sure... nothing,” Lily said, dragging out the word with a knowing smirk but deciding not to push further.

The blush of shy happiness pulsing from Becky’s emotions was more than enough proof for Lily and honestly, it was kind of adorable. 

Lily kept her hands steady on the wheel, a small smile tugging at her lips as she drove. The atmosphere in the car had shifted. Gone was the heavy, uncomfortable silence from earlier and in its place was something lighter, warmer. It was an unspoken understanding settling between them. She could feel Becky’s emotions easing from an overwhelming storm into a gentle current. It let Lily breathe a little easier too, the tension she hadn’t even realized she was carrying slowly melting away.

Stealing a quick glance at Becky, who was now staring thoughtfully out the window, Lily felt a quiet sense of relief. She was glad that somehow, she’d helped Becky take a step back toward Freen, toward something that felt like hope. And maybe, just maybe, this strange and tangled new adventure would lead Lily somewhere she could finally belong. Somewhere she could finally be seen for who she truly is and Freen and Becky was her answer.

—-

Freen’s Home - present day 

Later that night, Freen finally made it home, the emotional weight of her session with Becky lingering like an invisible cloak she couldn’t shake off. Normally, the stories her clients shared stayed neatly tucked away in the office. Any concerns, heartaches, fractured relationships were all handled with a calm detachment. Her smooth words could usually soothe the sharpest edges, guide couples back to each other or help them find a peaceful parting. It was what she did. It never followed her home.

But Becky was different.

Maybe it was because this wasn’t a couple she was mediating. Maybe it was because Becky’s pain wasn’t just sadness. It was love, raw and unfiltered, laid bare in a way that felt almost sacred. The way Becky spoke about her love and the aching tenderness…it had rooted itself deep inside Freen before she even realized it.

Letting out a slow, exhausted sigh, Freen moved through her apartment to her bathroom and turned on the taps for a hot bath, hoping to soak away the emotions clinging stubbornly to her skin. She undressed and quickly slid into the steaming water, letting the heat wrap around her body like a heavy blanket. She closed her eyes, forcing her mind to go blank, to find the silence she usually had no trouble summoning.

But within seconds, images of Becky flooded her mind.

The memory of being caught in Becky's strong arms. The way their bodies had pressed together for that brief, electric moment. The way Becky had looked at her like she was something precious. Freen’s eyes snapped open, her breath catching in her throat. Her entire body felt suddenly hotter than the water she was in. Her heart raced as if she were still standing in Becky’s arms.

"What is happening to me?" she whispered into the empty room, her voice barely louder than the gentle ripple of the water around her.

It was becoming clear that a bath wasn't going to wash away the turmoil happening inside her. With a frustrated sigh, Freen sat up, letting the water cascade off her skin as she reached for a towel. She abandoned the idea of relaxing altogether, stepping into a quick, bracing shower instead, hoping the cooler spray might snap her out of whatever spell she seemed to be under.

Minutes later, she slipped into her pajamas, the familiar routine of getting ready for bed offering a small sense of normalcy. But even as she lay under the covers, her mind refused to quiet. Images of hazel and honey-colored eyes and the echo of Becky's soft voice clung to her like a second skin, no matter how tightly she closed her eyes.

After what felt like endless tossing and turning, Freen finally drifted into a restless sleep, her body surrendering even as her mind still hummed faintly with unanswered questions and unspoken emotions. Sleep pulled her under like a tide until the line between reality and dream blurred.

And then… she was no longer in her bed.

She was dreaming. In her dream, Freen found herself standing in the middle of a quiet, moonlit garden, the air heavy with the scent of blooming jasmine. Everything felt unnervingly vivid like the coolness of the grass under her bare feet, the softness of the breeze against her skin. She turned, and there stood Becky, dressed in a simple black dress that clung delicately to her figure, her hair loose and wild in the gentle wind.

Their eyes met, and without a word, Becky moved closer, each step slow and deliberate, as if the moment itself might shatter if rushed. Freen couldn’t move. She didn’t want to. When Becky finally reached her, she raised a hand, tracing a feather-light touch along Freen’s cheek, down her jaw, and to the hollow of her throat. Freen’s breath caught at the touch, her heart thudding so loudly she was sure Becky could hear it.

The space between them vanished as Becky leaned in, brushing her lips tentatively against Freen’s. Without hesitation, Freen answered by deepening the kiss. Freen’s hands found Becky’s waist, pulling her close until there was no space left between them. Everything about the kiss was tender but charged, like a long-awaited storm finally breaking. Freen could feel Becky’s heartbeat through the thin fabric of her dress and the trembling of her own hands as they roamed up Becky’s back, memorizing its shape.

Becky’s lips moved from Freen’s mouth to the curve of her jaw and along her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Freen tilted her head back, surrendering completely to the sensations overwhelming her. There was a desperate need in the way they touched, like they were rediscovering something they’d been starved of for too long.

It was blissful, dizzying —

—and then the morning sunlight stabbed through her window, pulling Freen harshly back into the waking world.

She jolted upright in bed, her heart hammering against her ribs, her body tangled in the sheets. She was breathless, disoriented, and far too aware of how vivid the dream had been. For a moment, she just sat there, trying to collect herself, but the lingering heat on her skin and the ghost of Becky’s touch refused to fade.

Dragging a hand through her hair, Freen let out a shaky laugh, though there was nothing funny about the ache that settled deep in her chest. "What the hell is happening to me?" she muttered again, this time with a little more desperation.

Because what rattled her the most wasn’t just the vividness of the dream but the burning, undeniable truth at the center of it. She felt something no angel was ever supposed to feel. Something forbidden. Something dangerously human.

Lust.

It coiled low in her belly even now, a slow, smoldering fire that refused to be put out. It wasn’t the pure, detached affection she was taught to offer. It wasn't the kind that heals, guides, and uplifts without entanglement. No, this was raw. Desperate. A craving for more. More touch, more closeness, more of Becky.

Freen pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to will the feelings away, but the memory of Becky’s body against hers, the taste of her lips, the hunger of their dream-selves clung stubbornly to her mind. It was as if her very soul had been marked by the experience, leaving her terrified at its potential meaning. 

—-

One week later

After the night of her vivid dream, life had seemingly smoothed back into its usual rhythm for Freen. The images of Becky, the feel of her skin and the feel of her lips had not returned in her sleep. Freen buried herself in work and errands, determined to keep her mind busy, and for a while, it worked. It almost felt like the dream was nothing more than a weird anomaly or a fluke of an overactive mind.

On this particular morning, the weather was unusually pleasant, the sun filtering through the city streets in soft gold ribbons. Freen strolled toward her office, a steaming cup of tea in one hand, idly chatting with Mrs. Vong, an elderly neighbor who always had a story to share. She smiled politely, half-listening, basking in the normalcy of it all. And then it happened…she stepped off the curb without thinking, mid-laugh, right into the path of an oncoming bicycle.

Before she could even register the danger, strong arms wrapped around her waist, yanking her back onto the safety of the sidewalk. The impact of the sudden pull sent a shiver through her entire body, not from fear, but from recognition. Freen didn’t need to look. She knew who it was. She felt it.

The warmth, the strength, the scent. It was everything she had spent a week trying to forget. And now it flooded her senses all over again. She slowly tilted her head up and locked eyes with the very lips she dreamt about. The ones she had felt trail down her neck so eagerly. The image hit her so hard that for a moment she forgot how to breathe.

"You should watch where you’re going, doc," Becky said, voice low and protective.

The sound of her voice snapped Freen back to reality. She stumbled away slightly, cheeks burning with a fierce blush. “Becky!” Her voice cracked embarrassingly. She coughed into her hand to cover it. “Thank—thank you. What are you doing here?”

Becky, still holding her casually by the forearm like she might bolt into danger again, tilted her head with a small smile. “I’m on my way to see you.”

Freen blinked, confused. “Wait, what? Why?”

Becky raised her eyebrow in confusion herself. “We have an appointment?”

Realization dawned on Freen. “Right! Yes, of course. God, sorry. It’s been... a busy week.”

“No problem... Dr. Chankimha,” Becky said, voice dipping slightly in mock-formality that sent an unexpected thrill through Freen.

“You can call me Freen,” she said before she could think better of it.

Becky’s face lit up with the most genuine, breathtaking smile. It was so bright it felt like it could knock the air from Freen’s lungs. Involuntarily, Freen smiled back, heart skipping like a stone across a pond. Stop it…Freen thought to herself.

“Can I walk with you... Freen?” Becky asked, almost shyly, scratching the back of her neck.

The way her voice curled around her name made Freen’s stomach flutter uncontrollably. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like a fool and nodded, motioning for Becky to fall in step beside her. 

The walk to Freen’s office felt both painfully short and agonizingly long. Neither of them spoke much but the air between them was heavy with an invisible charge that neither could ignore. Every so often, Freen would glance sideways at Becky, catching the way sunlight danced through strands of her dark hair, how her expression was focused yet soft.

She’s beautiful, Freen thought before quickly scolding herself. An angel should not be thinking like this. An angel should not feel this. And yet... here she was. Her heart betrayed her, beating out a rhythm of want she had no idea how to tame.

When they reached her office building, Freen hurried to open the door, if only to distract herself. She pushed it wide and gestured for Becky to step in first. Becky gave her a small, grateful nod and walked through, the faintest brush of her shoulder against Freen’s chest making her breath hitch.

Pull yourself together, Freen cursed silently.

Once they made it into her office, Freen felt the familiar comfort of her space settle around her... but it didn’t help. Not with Becky standing there, close enough to touch, close enough to smell the faint hint of vanilla clinging to her clothes. Freen cleared her throat and forced a professional smile onto her lips. “Have a seat. Let me put my things down real quick and we can get started?” she offered, trying desperately to sound casual.

Becky gave a little half-smile and took a seat on the loveseat, the same place she had sat before. But this time, something was different. There was an openness to her posture, an ease that hadn’t been there during their first session.

Freen finally sat down across from her, setting her notepad in her lap, pretending to jot something down just to keep her hands busy. “So,” Freen began, her voice a little steadier now, “how have you been feeling this past week?”

Becky tilted her head thoughtfully, a slow smile curving her lips. “Better,” she said simply. “Seeing you again... kind of helps.” she added boldly.

Freen’s heart slammed hard against her ribs.

She quickly looked down at her notepad to hide her face and the warmth she knew was rising in her cheeks. Focus. Focus on being her therapist, not her admirer, she told herself sternly. But no matter how many rules she tried to wrap herself in, sitting across from Becky and feeling her gaze, remembering the dream, remembering how Becky’s arms had felt around her that morning just made her feel more human than angel. And buried deep in the pit of her stomach, Freen could feel it stirring again the very thing no angel was ever supposed to feel. Desire.

"I'm glad you feel more comfortable now, ready to talk things out," Freen said, her voice calm for now. She adjusted her posture in the chair, straightening herself a bit in a vain attempt to anchor herself back into her professional role. Becky smiled at her and Freen felt the air around them shift and grew warmer.

"I had a long chat with Lily," Becky began, "and I realized I can’t change what happened... but I can decide what happens next."

Freen nodded, clasping her hands lightly on her notepad to stop herself from fidgeting. "That's a very healthy way to look at it," she said with a smile, relieved that the session was at least heading into familiar territory. "For today, would you feel comfortable sharing a bit about what happened with your... ex-partner?" The word felt heavy as it left her mouth.

Becky's expression shifted and a flash of vulnerability softened her features but she nodded. "I can try," she said. Then, almost shyly, she added, "Would it be alright if I walk around while I talk? It helps me think."

"You can do anything that makes you comfortable," Freen assured her, offering a warm, encouraging smile. 

Becky returned it before moving across the room. She drifted to a bookshelf and reached out, letting her fingertips graze the edge of a small, smooth sculpture. Freen's gaze unwillingly followed the motion, mesmerized by the delicate trail Becky’s fingers left. A vivid, forbidden memory struck her. It was a flash of Becky’s fingers brushing along the edge of her own jaw. She gulped and forced her eyes downward, grounding herself back to the moment.

Then Becky spoke, her voice low and raw that it pulled Freen away from her reckless thoughts. "She left me," Becky said, her hand falling away from the sculpture. The sheer heartbreak in her tone made Freen’s throat tighten.

"After a night of love," Becky continued, slowly moving toward a nearby table, "I thought we'd be together forever. I thought we were unbreakable. But then... she was gone. No explanation. No goodbye. Just… vanished."

Freen stayed silent for a breath, letting the weight of Becky's words settle before she gently asked, "How did that make you feel?"

Becky turned to face her, her expression unreadable at first. It was just a long, piercing stare that made Freen want to crumble. Then Becky turned away, exhaling. "Abandoned," she said simply. "Like I was nothing. Like everything we had... meant nothing."

Freen had to look away, unable to bear the desolate look in Becky’s eyes. She stared down at the notepad, pretending to take notes, but her hand barely moved.

"But," Becky added after a moment, her voice quieter, "I found out something recently."

Freen lifted her gaze again, "And what’s that?"

Becky traced her fingers over the edge of the table absentmindedly before answering. "I learned that something happened to her. An accident," Becky said, her voice thick with the effort to not reveal too much. "She lost her memories. And for her own safety... her family sent her away."

Freen's heart clenched painfully in her chest. "I'm... really sorry to hear that, Becky," she said softly, meaning it more than she had ever meant anything in her life.

Becky met her eyes again, and this time, Freen couldn't look away even if she wanted to. "I can’t even be angry at her," Becky whispered, blinking rapidly against the tears building at the corners of her eyes. "How can you hate someone who doesn't even remember you?"

Freen sat there, helpless against the tidal wave of emotion surging in the room, and in her.

"Would it help if you allowed yourself to be angry at her?" she asked carefully, gently probing.

"I... I don't know," Becky admitted, voice cracking just slightly. "Maybe. Maybe not." She inhaled shakily, her gaze slipping to the floor, shoulders curling inward just a little. "I just..." Becky began, and then paused, swallowing hard. "I just miss her."

The silence that followed wasn't heavy but it was sacred, tender, aching. Freen wanted to cross the space between them. Wanted to wrap Becky up in her arms, shield her from the loneliness radiating from every part of her. The urge was so strong and she didn’t know why. But she stayed where she was because angels were supposed to heal without getting tangled in the wounds they mended.

"Pretend I'm her," Freen said suddenly, almost trembling with something she couldn't name. "What would you want to say to her?" she asked.

Becky's head snapped toward her so fast it made the air between them shift. For a heartbeat, Freen thought Becky might say nothing. But instead, Becky just looked at her. Freen couldn't read her expression. Then Becky whispered, voice barely a breath, "Just that I still love her."

The world stilled. The confession hung there, suspended between them, delicate and devastating all at once. Their eyes locked and in that fragile moment it felt like everything else in the world had fallen away. Freen could feel the weight of those words but didn’t know why it was so heavy. Her lips parted but not to speak. She simply forgot how to breathe.

But before either of them could move, could act on the gravity pulling them closer, a sharp knock shattered the moment. "Freen? Are you there? It's Heng," a voice called from outside the door.

Both Freen and Becky stiffened, frozen like statues at the sound. More accurately, the name.