8: Love Interest

Calderon has stayed in the library until seven in the evening.

If he has patiently waited for over a millennium, a few hours more until Macey is free didn't feel so long.

The time has run rather too quickly, though. He waited busily scanning shelves after shelves, picking covers that picks his interest, reading introductions if he likes them, and sitting back down at his table after having a stack in his arms.

It has gone like that. He reads books while forcing himself to stay sane despite Macey's lingering scent and his rising thirst. While Macey welcomes visitors and instructs people, gives them library cards for borrowing, registers their names and contacts, and so on.

When Macey has called Calderon's attention with a “Hey, we can leave now,” the man has stood up energetically and ran hastily to put the books back on their respective shelves.

Calderon has to stop his breath again, so he wouldn't fall into the guilty pleasure of inhaling the pleasing aroma.

Too near, he thought. He didn't know if he could stay this close to the girl without losing his sh*t. But he has to, he needed to, and he wanted to.

“You seem too excited, weren't you?”

“Course, I indeed am—” Calderon cleared his throat when Macey faced him after locking the library's main entrance. “Anyway, aren't you hungry?

“I am.”

And he also is.

If Macey ever asks to go to a restaurant, he would be damned.

Calderon, after he was turned, never liked the taste of human food. That one time he has tried to forcefully swallow a steak decades ago, he threw up, he felt sick for a month.

By then, he has never dared to eat again.

Right, it was a millennium ago, and he could barely remember how they taste. He would be lying if he says he didn't miss some delicious homemade dishes and delicacies, though.

It was a shame that his taste buds are now neglecting every tasty food he has enjoyed back when he was still a human.

“Where do you want to go?” Calderon asked.

“Home, actually,” Macey replied in a matter-of-fact tone, shrugging afterward and walking past Calderon to lead the way towards the parking lot on the library's back.

“Oh, sorry? Was I interrupting your supposed time alone for rest?”

“No, home is my first choice. I just answered your question with full honesty, I hate liars, I hate lies,” Macey let out a playful giggle. “I would be glad to go anywhere, though. If it's your treat, then I'll be your guest.”

“We can go home to yours?”

“How will you make that work?”

“I'll cook you something? Let's get ingredients in the supermarket.”

“You can cook?”

“Yeah? What do you think of me? A rich man with countless maids and chefs at home?” A chuckle. He was lying. He can't even taste food, so how could he cook an edible meal? “I don't usually blend in with people, I don't even hire a person to clean my house.”

Calderon could only hope for the best. A dinner with Macey while he keeps himself sane under the girl's watching gaze, warmth, and invading scent.

A stay with Macey whom he loves with all his heart while he is thirsty for he wasn't able to have a decent sip of blood in a while now.

This will be a huge battle of yes and no, an internal fight for what's right and wrong. Calderon knew he was seeking trouble, and he is only a few steps ahead from that— he is gladly stepping forward anyway.

“Yeah? A house, or do you mean a mansion? You are so down to earth. You call a Bugatti 'just' a Bugatti, you call a billion-dollar 'just' a few dollars. The house you are referring to must be a palace.”

“Not really,” Calderon grinned. He then unlocked his car's door and motioned Macey to step inside before he walks around to sit on the driver's side.

“Wouldn't this be too much kindness for a stranger, Calderon?”

“How about you? Do you easily trust a stranger to drive you around and even invade your house for this night? I might be a serial killer, a criminal, or someone who does bad things. Don't you fear me?”

“I don't know. You are comfortable to be with. I rarely feel safe with a man, but you are an exception, I guess? You won't do me wrong, would you?”

“I can't do such.”

Aside from drinking on human's blood, he can't do such in situations that don't require violence.

“Anyway, back to my initial question. Wouldn't this be too much care for someone you just met a day ago? Weren't you a busy person?”

Calderon smiled. One simple reason had his mood soar up. A day ago? Heck, they met one millennium ago— although he was the only one who's aware.

“No? I don't have anything to do aside from spending this day with you anyway. I've made myself free,” Calderon scratched his nape while admitting how he has cleared all his schedules for this day.

“You are unbelievable...”

“It's because I am confident that you are a great person. And as I've said earlier, I feel great around you. I must keep the presence for as long as I can before I get dumped— if ever you plan to.”

“What do you mean? Don't tell me you were you interested in me, like, a love interest?” Macey's jaw dropped. “Oh, God...”

“Uh... maybe? Yes.”

“Calderon, you are too rich to be giving me attention, too hot to settle with a low-class—”

“And so?”

“God, if you are heaven, I'd be the earth. Come on, are you being serious now?”

“I am.”

“What did you even see in me—? I mean, I am just a librarian, a regular girl, and you can fetch a rich heiress, a model, or an actress, even a princess too—”

“You are just... different, unique. Your eyes, your heart, your soul... Macey, I see everything. They are not special, but you are. And... you are familiar.”

“Familiar?”

“I...” Calderon blinked a few times. He needed yet another lie. “I've actually... seen you somewhere else before. I can't remember the exact place or the exact time, but I sure did recall your face. I'm sure that it was you.”

“Oh...?”

“I've made up my mind as soon as yesterday and I knew it's been a while since I've started to look forward to seeing and meeting you again. May it be on the city's streets, or any place where destiny would like us to meet.”

Calderon, if he would be honest, he was near to scolding himself in front of a mirror (if only he has a reflection), he was near to smacking his head or banging it on the wall.

Why is he this shy over confessing to a girl he likes? The girl in question is Macey, Macey Schmidt from a millennium ago, his lover in the past, his girlfriend, his wife, his soulmate, his destiny, his fate.

Was he always this lame? He convinced himself that, no, he is better than this.

After a brief weighing of the matter, he cleared his throat once more, then added, “I don't know how to say this without sounding weird and odd to your liking... but, Macey, you are attractive, pretty, kind, a girl any man would dream about, and I... it was unbelievable and unexpected, but I came to like you.”