Julius Caesar

Julius had no choice.

So when he held my hand, looked in my eyes, and spoke, I pitied him because it was never his fault. He wasn't born a monster. He was reared as one. Given murder in a red ribbon as a gift from his father when he turned seventeen, he felt complied to pay for it for the rest of his life to gain his acceptance.

It was sickening, everything he told me. The scars his father gave him. The scars, that he said, humiliated him and reminded him of his 'weakness'. He said that it was his choice and that he had accepted his fate. He said that what broke him the most was his father killing his pregnant girlfriend in front of his eyes.

"And I guess I needed this break to fix so many things about myself," was how he explained it, eyes cast down, fixated on our intertwined fingers.

He said he missed his mother and hated his father for cheating on her, and thus giving him a brother that he met by mere 'coincidence'. He whispered about how much he loved him and I couldn't help but smile. He said that if anything happened to him, Augustus, he would die.

He then talked about the doc.u.ments my father 'stole' and I wasn't surprised when I believed him in a heartbeat. He was surprised, though, so I told him what I saw. I told him about the videos on Maxime's laptop and he frowned. He said it was stupid to keep such evidence. That it was quite suspicious and that he was scared for me.

He suggested I leave with him.

He told me that he'd send me to a whole new country because 'it was for the greater good'. But I refused because I didn't need him to protect me. Because I was sure Maxime wouldn't harm me and I'd leave this house in a few days anyway to return to my normal life.

His jaw twitched with all the things he wished he could say in response to my refusal, but all he managed to utter was, "You're free to do what you d.e.s.i.r.e."

And it hurt me. Ironically. It hurt, seeing him prepare himself to cut all the ties while all I did was try to accept its happening in the first place. Accept that he was leaving me. Because our beating hearts brought together were too big to fit this universe and we knew that. That the fault lied in the hands of the galaxies that cursed us by giving him a harsh father and stealing his humanity with each stab or bullet he shot.

So when I teared up at our terrible fate, he raised our intertwined hands and pressed his lips to the back of my hand while locking my eyes. He then asked me to get closer. And I did. I nestled my head next to his neck while wrapping an arm around his torso. He then sighed heavily, planted a kiss on my head, and decided to tell me a 'story'.

This story, he said, was about a very strong, blind girl. She was very beautiful, he murmured. "The only serenity in a beast's demon-damned days," he whispered, running a hand in my hair. He talked about the guilt of the beast when he constantly fed her with lies so that she wouldn't run away from him.

"He was afraid she'd ask him a question he'd fail to answer, looking in her ocean eyes. A question where he'd have to tell her the whole truth about the ugliness that stained his insides. Because beasts aren't defined by how they look, but by what they really are," Julius played with the words and I closed my eyes, tears wetting his b.a.r.e torso.

"He was afraid she'd ask him ′Who are you?'" He paused to inhale deeply. "Little did he know that it was inevitable. That he should've known better. He should've known that he had this ugliness that just can't be loved. Or accepted."

We talked about second chances. A lot. But he remained adamant to one response as he'd force out a hard, humourless laugh.

"Reality doesn't offer second chances, love." Yes. He said that.

And I remember telling him that I could; I could offer him all the chances he deserved. But then he'd shake his head and bring our intertwined hands to his c.h.e.s.t, where I could feel his heart beating outrageously.

"Then how would this-" He'd mumble, tapping our hands to his c.h.e.s.t twice. "-live with it?"

Yeah, I cried again, because he was letting go. His voice was full of resignation and I hated it. So I brought up Amanda. I told him how I'd only have Amanda to live with and that I needed something different. I needed him. And I didn't care if he killed people because I knew he was reborn and that the past was in the past.

I remember a very long pause punctuated by his occasional sighs as he shifted. I was almost hoping that he changed his mind. I even lifted myself off of him and stared in his face. His face was not comforting.

"Samara, there's something I need to tell you. About Amanda."

I naturally frowned at his tone, because what was there to tell me about her? I urged him to continue anyway.

Julius' lips then parted silently as he stared at me, weighing thoughts in his mind, before he purred, "Get closer."

I reluctantly lowered myself to his c.h.e.s.t again, eyes wide open. I knew that whatever would come out of his mouth would be bad.

"After your father's death, Amanda left to France and left you with Danielle. Your father's third wife-" Julius stated and I was going to jump out of his arms, but his arm locked me in place.

I remember frowning deeply at his words, because- what was he saying? What third wife? What Danielle? Then I remembered the day of the operation. I remembered what he said about Amanda. I remembered his discomfort. He had lied to me.

"I lied to you because you weren't ready-" was his excuse when I told him but I wasn't taking it. So Julius told me the 'whole′ story of how after my father's murder, he tried hunting down his daughter, me, for the doc.u.ments. How he found a wrong one first before he figured I was the real one.

That was why he wanted me to regain my sight, he mentioned. For my safety. He told me that if it weren't for his father's intervention and the very fact that I was their target, he wouldn't have talked to me ever again. And I thought- God, this is crazy.

He said he figured out that Amanda wasn't the real one when I showed him the framed pictures. "Danielle told you, you were permanently blind. But so did your father-" He pointed out as evidence to his words. "You can say that they both hid this from you for the opposite reasons. Danielle wanted Becky to live richly like you. So Amanda left her the responsibility only if she pretended to be her. Your mother happily sent the money every month. Your father, however, wanted you to remain blind to his dirty work."

Bianca, Caesar. Bianca.

"I got the doc.u.ments from Danielle and that was how Maxime found me. His revenge was to tell you about me- apparently, get you on his side and slowly morph you into a monster like himself. And here we are, heartbroken and too weak to figure out what's right and start doing it." He then added with a heavy sigh.

I stiffened in his hold before closing my eyes. "I was disowned by my family. They used me." I was almost surprised that no tears came.

"I know you mightn't believe-" he started but I shook my head.

"I believe you," I whispered calmly. "I do." Heavens, those people didn't mind gutting babies; they surely wouldn't mind lying to me. "But I have a question-" I changed the subject, sat up, and caged his torso. My face a few inches from his.

"You're making me anxious-" he said, flashing me a weak smile as he used a hand to push back some hair strands that fell over my eyes. He then slowly shook his head. "Will you do a dare for me if I answered?"

I frowned but not seriously. "I thought you couldn't 'do witty'."

"I cannot. Really. It was a request-" he said, raising a brow. "Motivation."

I sighed. "Okay. Why didn't you fight off my brother?"

Julius shifted carefully below me as my arms hurt from supporting my weight for so long. So I lowered my head back to his c.h.e.s.t and sighed.

"Because you love him." He said softly.

"But he hurt you-"

"Well, I would hurt you by hurting him-"

I scoffed with tears in my eyes. "You can't be that ridiculously sweet. You can't really be a murderer, Julius." I told him that. Yes. Because it was true.

He paused, then stroked my hair. "Ready for the dare?" He obviously ignored me.

"One more question, please-" I requested, tracing careful circles on his side.

"One more dare?"

"Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. "Did you really lick off people's blood when you killed them?" I cringed at the question. "I mean, you said that and it haunted-"

He then chuckled at my words, running his fingers in my hair. "Of course not-" he said. "But I did dream about it a lot. Sometimes it was too believable-" he sighed. "I mean, it isn't too far-fetched and matched my profile."

"So like you don't-" I paused. "You don't like...get p.l.e.a.s.u.r.ed by blood or excited or-"

"Turned on?" He scoffed and I turned red. "No. I am not a vampire, love."

"So how did you feel after you killed someone?" I pressed, impressed at my ability to casually interrogate a murderer about his killing style. As if it was supposed to make it any better.

"I didn't feel-" he said seriously. "I'd drink all the emotions away. I didn't give myself a chance to think. Or guilt would've killed me-"

"So you're not like those serial killers I read about?"

"Did they use to lick blood?"

"Yes."

"Feel guilty?"

"Nope."

"Then, no," he breathed, a hint of a smile, lacing his voice. "Now ready for the dares?"

"Wait, I got one more question," I said shyly. "For a dare of course."

He chuckled lightly. "Yes, sure. Go ahead."

"Do you love me?"

"Damn, Mara, two dares for that-" I could still hear the smile in his voice.

"Is it that difficult?"

"Well, it is-" he breathed heavily. "You just reminded me of why we're doing this in the first place. That this hold-" he wrapped his arm tightly around me. "-it's temporary."

"So-?"

"I don't tell people about my emotions, Mara-" he said and I frowned, heart in mouth as I lifted myself off of him and sat up, staring down into his playful eyes. He then grinned at my displeased expression. "-I show them."

And, ah, that was so s.e.xy the way he said it. I thought I needed to slap myself to clear my thoughts. To worsen it, Julius sat up too, the blanket falling to his l.a.p.s, exposing his b.a.r.e c.h.e.s.t and muscular, cigarette-scarred arms.

My breathing fastened as I watched his eyes flicker from my shirt to my lips. "Okay," he lifted an eyebrow devilishly. "I dare you to take off your shirt."

I looked at him in the dim light, tilted my head, my brain a haze as I peeled off my shirt with shaky hands and without second thoughts. Julius' eyes widened as I looked down at my black bra, and wondered- what am I doing? I've never done this before. This is so, so stupid.

"God's heavens, Mara-" he breathed, devouring me with his eyes as I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself. Well, my body wasn't perfect, a bit of a belly, stretch marks, and oh moles. Oh, I got lots of those. I was starting to regret this.

"What are you doing?" he frowned a bit, inching closer to me, his head a few inches away from mine. "Give me your hands."

I tightened the hold around myself.

"Don't be like this. You're so ridiculously perfect-" he said huskily, scooting even closer and reaching for my arms. His body's heat sent tingles down my spine, forcing me to look up. He locked my eyes and smiled reassuringly. I s.u.c.k.e.d my belly and gave him my hands, feeling slightly embarrassed. His warm hands c.a.r.e.s.sed mine before he pulled me closer, cupped my face in his sturdy hands and grinned.

"You're beautiful-" He whispered, furrowing his eyebrows, tracing my lips with his thumb, and parting them, while my head was like- oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. And then he pecked my lips once, lingered, before backing away, shaking his head.

"We shouldn't be doing this. I'll end up m.a.k.i.n.g. .l.o.v.e to you when I really can't," he panted out and I almost hyperventilated from the effort it took to keep my heart in my c.h.e.s.t.

But, oh, Julius, I wasn't taking it. So I slowly got closer and straddled him smoothly. He looked down at my cleavage, then back up again with shut eyes.

"You're killing me," he murmured as I leaned in till our foreheads touched.

"I want it to be memorable. Killing you," I said playfully, raising my eyebrows and he smiled lopsidedly.

"Didn't know you had this in you too," he said, his eyes fl.i.c.k.i.n.g down to my lips as his cold hands found their way to my h.i.p.s and up my spine. I shivered.

"We'd make a perfect couple," I joked with a sad undertone as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"In a parallel universe."

"Where Maxime doesn't exist."

"And my father isn't a bitch."

"And I was never blind."

"And I hadn't killed."

"And I met you earlier."

"And I kissed you earlier."

"And I made you love music."

"And I made love to you every two hours."

"That's a lot!" I scrunched my nose and laughed.

"You don't know me when it comes to this." He winked with a grin and I slapped his face playfully, laughing.

Julius then pulled me toward him so I straddled him closer. He planted a kiss on my nose before his lips found my ears. "In a parallel universe, Samara, I'd marry you."

I stopped laughing at the sincerity in his voice and looked down at him. At his glistening emeralds and slightly parted lips.

"And I'd have five kids with you," I blurted in his beautiful face. He was so handsome right there, in my arms, with his hair lazily swept to the back, his tired eyes and pink neck.

"And I'd be the best father and husband ever."

Tears already filled my eyes. "And I'd literally repeat history with you."

"How so?" He asked with a playful frown and I brushed my nose with his.

"I'd name our first son Caesarion."

At that he tipped his head back, disconnecting our foreheads and laughed. "So you'd be my Cleopatra?"

"Yes!" I said excitedly, tears rolling down my cheeks. He was watching me cry and trying his best not to show how much it hurt him. "And we'd have him in Egypt!"

He laughed more, tears forming in his eyes. Oh, my heart.

"You'd be the king of my heart," I said, staring in his teary eyes that seemed to dive in the roots of my soul as he sighed with a sad smile.

"And you'd be the queen of my universe."

"And I'd love you so much."

"And I'd love you even more."

"Oh, Caesar," I said, bringing my forehead to his again. "I love you so much."

"I love you more. All of me loves you." He said slowly, softly, locking my eyes, all the fun gone. I sniffed and he smiled, his jade greens shimmering in an ocean of tears. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," I smiled despite the tears that freely ran down my face.

"Alright, Samara," he said quietly, sniffing and looking in my eyes. "I dare you to kiss me."

I laughed but leaned in anyway and pecked his lips with my numb ones. I couldn't even kiss him with all the silent crying I was doing. I backed away, sniffing and he shook his head, tears staining his cheeks.

"That was pathetic," he joked despite the pain of it all. "Our parallel future of five kids is under threat. I'll need more than this!"

"Dammit, Caesar, have patience! I'm crying!" I laughed and cried more as he shook his head. "I'm like shaking."

"I'm very impatient," he pouted, puckered his lips, and closed his teary eyes as if preparing himself for receiving a kiss.

I let out an uncontrollable sob, just looking at him and his eyebrows dropped low, eyes still closed. I then took deep, calming breaths, wiped my tears, brushed a few hair strands from his forehead, and cradled his face in my hands. I suppressed a sob, then c.a.r.e.s.sed his scorching lips with mine, parting them. I felt his hands travel slowly up my back where his finger hooked my bra. He then parted away with an ′oh', and I closed my eyes because that was the s.e.xiest and saddest 'oh' I'd ever heard.

It doesn't make sense but I felt what I felt.

"Scratch that," he said hoarsely, unfastening my bra. "We're having ten kids."

I tried to laugh but couldn't because it had reached a very sad point. So I settled for a smile.

"Come on," he whispered thickly, removing my bra completely. "Kiss me again." He then licked his lips, stared in my eyes. "Please."

And I did. Once, twice, a hundred times, fingers deep in his hair until I was breathless and he was panting for oxygen. We hadn't moved from our position as we sat staring at each other speechlessly.

"If it weren't for my back-" He said, resting his head on my shoulder. "I would have-" He banged his head gently on my shoulder blade. "I would've ripped you to pieces. Gently."

I chuckled, shifting on his l.a.p.s and his head shot up from my shoulder, eyes widened. I looked cautiously at him. "What?"

"You can't do that-" He whispered, neck taut.

"What?" I furrowed my eyebrows and shifted more. His hands flew to my h.i.p.s, keeping me in place.

"That, Samara-" He looked down, between us, and I almost facepalmed at my idiocy as flames slapped my cheeks.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," I gasped and he laughed. And that he'd mentioned it, I could feel it beneath me.

"Don't move-" he said and I raised my eyebrows.

"But it feels so weird!" I was exclaiming, laughing, my laughter shaking my whole body and his too.

Julius g.r.o.a.n.e.d. "It feels like ten kids, Samara. Calm down," he retorted and I slammed my head on his shoulder, hiding my face from embarrassment as I laughed helplessly.

"I love you," he then mumbled in my ear, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me closer, and hugging me.

I pulled apart and stared in his eyes with tears in mine. "Me too, Caesar. More than you can ever imagine."

And that was the last time I looked in those beautiful emeralds of his because when I woke up in the morning, he wasn't there. His arms weren't wrapped protectively around me with our fingers intertwined and my cold feet weren't warmed by his.

He was true to his words.

And the door of the bas.e.m.e.nt? It was wide,wideopen.