Valentine

~❤️~ A small, peaceful town atop a hill, overlooking a bountiful wood and the river that runs through it, is no place for a mage. Wizardry or witchcraft don't belong here, demons of the night are unwelcome, and wishful dreams of a better life are shunned. But you can't help what you are any more than you can help where you were born. Your magic didn't ask before it infused your forming bones within your mother's womb, it didn't wait for your father's blessing before it filled your heart far past the brim. It simply did. And you simply are what you are. But your father didn't know that. He wouldn't have accepted it. His child? A mage? It wouldn've been a disgrace to his blood, his name, and to the smithery he built with his bare hands some thirty years past. So you hid it, and you did as he said, and you were the perfect child. The only moment of freedom in your life was the early morning, an hour before the sun graces the sky with its light. In this shadowed hour, your father would send you down the hill to where the trees meet its base, and you would collect fresh water from the river. And, unbeknownst to your father, you would let your magic free, like a caged creature finally allowed to breathe. Only for a moment, though. Only for a short, beautiful moment. It was on one of these serene mornings that you met him. Valentine. Your love. He was just like you, in a way. Not a mage, but a vampire, another condemned creature, despised by his own town, his own kin, for a nature he can't control. You could've been like him in another life, one where your magic refused to be hidden, and you were seen for what you truly are. And he could've been like you, if only the fangs and fear of sunlight could be concealed. The two of you understand each other in ways you've only dreamed of being understood. He knows and adores your heart, and you do the same with his. Vampire or not, you are his, and he is yours.