Getting To Know Him

Jasmine

It’s been twenty-seven days since I arrived at Ramon’s house. Twenty-seven days since I fled Ryker’s cruelty, my body bruised, my soul even more battered. But here, in this quiet sanctuary hidden deep within the woods, I feel a strange sense of safety. Something I can’t remember ever having before.

Ramon is nothing like I expected. He’s distant, yes, with his guarded glances and clipped answers, but there’s a kindness beneath the surface that keeps drawing me in. When he looks at me, it’s as though he sees every broken piece, every scar, and doesn’t flinch.

I’ve caught myself watching him too often. His movements are fluid, deliberate, like he’s mastered time itself. Sometimes, in the quiet moments when the house is still and the fire crackles softly in the hearth, I wonder about the man behind the enigma. He’s let me stay here, protected me, but I know so little about him. Tonight, I decide to change that.

The air in the sitting room is cool, the faint scent of lavender and aged wood lingering in the air. Ramon sits by the fire, his gaze fixed on the flames as though searching for answers in their flickering dance. His profile is sharp against the warm glow. High cheekbones, a strong jaw, and eyes that hold centuries of untold stories.

I take a deep breath and step closer, the old wooden floor creaking under my weight. "Ramon?" He doesn’t startle, doesn’t even look up. "Yes, Jasmine?" His voice is smooth, but there’s an edge to it, like a blade dulled by too much use.

I hesitate, unsure if I’m prying too much. "I… I just realized I don’t really know you. Not the way I’d like to." His gaze shifts to me, dark and piercing, as though he’s weighing my words. "What would you like to know?"

"Everything," I say before I can stop myself. Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I press on. "You’ve been so kind to me, and I feel safe here. Safer than I’ve ever felt. But you’re still a mystery to me."

A faint smile touches his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "Mysteries aren’t always meant to be unraveled, Jasmine. Sometimes, they’re best left untouched."

"But I want to understand you," I insist, stepping closer. "Please." For a moment, he’s silent. Then he gestures to the chair across from him. "Very well. Sit." I settle into the seat, the cushions worn but comfortable. My heart pounds in my chest, anticipation and nerves battling for control.

"I’m almost seven hundred years old," he begins, his voice low. "Though, as you’ve likely noticed, I don’t look a day over my late twenties." I blink, the weight of his words sinking in. Seven hundred years? The idea is both impossible and fascinating, yet something about the way he says it makes me believe him.

He continues, his tone calm but tinged with regret. "I’ve seen kingdoms rise and fall, cities crumble to dust. I’ve lived through plagues, wars, and revolutions. But the moment that haunts me most happened five centuries ago." The air feels heavier, as though the room itself is holding its breath. I lean forward, captivated. "What happened?"

His eyes darken, the flames in the hearth reflecting in their depths. "I found my mate. Her name was Amara. She was human. Like you, she was kind, spirited… everything I never thought I deserved."

A lump forms in my throat as I listen. There’s a tenderness in his voice that makes my chest ache. "We were inseparable," he says. "She accepted what I was, even offered her blood to strengthen our bond. I was careful, always careful. Until the night I wasn’t."

His jaw tightens, and I can see the effort it takes for him to continue. "I returned from battle, wounded and weak. Amara offered herself to me as she always had, but… I was too far gone. Desperation took over, and when I finally came back to my senses, she was..." His voice breaks, and he looks away. "She was gone. Cold. Empty."

I swallow hard, my stomach churning. The pain in his voice is palpable, raw and unrelenting. "I tried to save her," he says, his hands clenching into fists. "Tried to turn her, to give her the life I’d promised her. But it was too late. Her soul had already left her body." A chill runs down my spine. I can almost see it, the lifeless form of the woman he loved, the despair etched into his face.

"And then… the mysterious messenger came," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "A figure cloaked in black, his face hidden behind a mask of bone. He declared my punishment: no mate, no human blood. Not until I’d earned redemption through acts of virtue."

I sit in stunned silence, the weight of his story pressing down on me. The image of him, cursed and alone for centuries, burns itself into my mind.

"Do you hate me now?" he asks, his gaze meeting mine. His eyes are unguarded, vulnerable in a way I’ve never seen before. "No," I say, the word escaping before I can think. "I don’t." His brows lift, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"I can see how much you regret what happened," I say softly. "And… I’ve seen what real cruelty looks like. This isn’t it. You made a mistake in a vulnerable moment, but you’re trying to make up for it. That matters." His expression softens, and for the first time, I see something close to hope in his eyes.

The fire crackles between us, its warmth chasing away the chill in the room. I clutch the edges of my shawl, the silence stretching, heavy but not unbearable. Ramon’s story lingers in my mind, a vivid reminder of his pain and the man he’s become despite it all. As I sit here, I realize something his love, burdened and flawed as it is, feels genuine. And that’s more than I’ve ever known.